Tan Tan is a family-owned business that precedes the establishment of Beaverton’s “restaurant row,” having operated off of Southwest Broadway for more than 20 years. The menu dives into a range of Vietnamese foods hard to find at many Portland restaurants, from ca ri, a yellow curry with rice, noodles, or French bread to the hot-and-sour soup canh chua. Tan Tan plays it simple but intentional with its pho offerings, serving a reliably stuffed pho dac biet containing just about every common pho beef cut imaginable. Those seeking something simpler can choose from two meats for their pho, or even more minimalist with just broth and rice noodles.

For carnivores who judge a bowl of pho based on the amount of meat it contains, Nguyen delivers the beefy goods. Even so, the rich, no-need-for-condiments broth would make this Raleigh Hills restaurant a top contender if there were a Portland pho contest. While the pho doesn’t need extra seasoning, a spoonful of chile oil doesn’t hurt, either.

Northwest’s Fish Sauce is a slightly upscale option for Vietnamese beef noodle soup, and its biggest draw might be its complementary cocktails — things like mules with house-made ginger beer. The pho features prime cuts like filet mignon, bolstered by springy meatballs instead of extras like tendons and tripe.

Eastside Portlanders flock to Friendship Kitchen for its welcoming nightlife atmosphere and spacious patio, which stays toasty even through the winter months. Diners can choose from an array of shaken meats and banh mi amid the backdrop of buzzy neon signs and brightly patterned lanterns, alongside drinks with playful names like Ho Chi Mama (lychee puree, simple syrup, lemon, Chambord, and vodka) and Way 2 Sexy (spicy tequila, tamarind, Tajín). The pho broth simmers for 10 hours, resulting in a bright and well-seasoned bowl with a modest portion of tenderloin and brisket. The vegan option features a broth flavored with traditional pho spices — star anise, coriander seeds, fennel — as well as a heaping of vegetables and “thiccc” cuts of tofu.

Thom’s tiny interior and ultra-pared down menu may be reminiscent of restaurants owned by first-generation Vietnamese immigrants in American cities like San Jose and Westminster, California. Similar to these businesses, which typically specialize in one or two dishes at a time, Thom prides itself on perfecting just four items, and pho consists of half those offerings. A smaller but stuffed bowl of pho bo holds a hearty serving of both beef and chicken meatballs, tenderloin, and brisket, while the popular vegan pho chay is topped with bok choy, mushrooms, and tofu. A shelf of takeaway Asian pantry goods complements the micro offerings, with treats like Thai varieties of Lays, cooking sauces, and fruit chews.

In a former fast food spot with an unmistakable hat-shaped roof, Pho An is a favorite Sandy Blvd Vietnamese pit stop. The pho dac biet, which is only available in the restaurant’s largest portion, comes filled with slices of fatty brisket, round steak, a few tangles of tripe, meatballs, and a generous portion of gelatinous tendons that comes out of the kitchen mere minutes after placing an order. 

Thanks to Nong of khao man gai fame, many head to Mekha for the dry Phnom Penh noodles, but the pho, a little sweet and finished with a few grinds of black pepper, is also worth ordering. If there were a prize for most varied condiments, Mekha might win: The minimalist and modern restaurant offers more than just the usual Sriracha and hoisin, and also stocks house-made garlic paste, chile-infused vinegar, chile oil, and chile paste.

This banquet-ready institution is a well-oiled machine. From tai (flank steak only) to the dac biet (multiple cuts of beef, plus meatballs, tendon, and tripe), the menu has more than 20 different variations of pho to choose from. All bowls of pho, fragrant with star anise and clove, come out of the kitchen quicker than seems humanly possible.

This Jade District restaurant known for its namesake spicy soup recently added a beef pho to its selection. Rather than being treated as an afterthought, the beef pho feels special, with a pristine broth, heaps of green onion, and springy meatballs. The move here is to come with a friend, get both the pho and the BBH, and split them.

Run by Buddhist nuns and their disciples, Van Hanh is a godsend for vegetarians and vegans who also want to enjoy Vietnamese dishes, including noodle soups. The crab-free bun rieu might be the most popular soup served, but the vegetable broth-based pho is no slouch. It comes with mock beef, tofu, and all of the traditional accompaniments. 

Anyone who finds themselves at Clackamas Town Center and isn’t in the mood for Cinnabon will appreciate Pho Sen, a nearby Vietnamese restaurant. Diners can choose from the Special Beef Soup, which includes everything a pho dac biet can (round steak, flank, beef meatballs, well-done brisket, tripe, and tendon), to versions made with white meat chicken, tofu and vegetables. The newer short rib pho comes with a whole beef short rib, for drama and flavor.