My soon dubu crawl

I love soon dubu. I can't get enough of it because the experience is so eclectic—boiling bowl of tofu in glowing red broth, rice in metal bowl, optional raw egg, post-dubu belly bloat.

Right now my favorite place is Myung Dong Tofu Cabin in Santa Clara. There’s something about The Cabin that keeps pulling me back, and it’s not the ambiance (fluorescent lights give it a classroom feeling). There's something in the broth that gives it an extra kick, and I'm not sure what it is. That's why I drive the extra few miles into the bowels of strip mall Santa Clara for a Cabin fix.

But since this is a blog about fobby gems, I'm going to venture from my security blanket in search of a better bowl. I’m going on a dubu crawl around the Bay Area in hopes of discovering a bowl that rivals The Cabin. Here are my rules:

1. It must cost less than $10 before tax
2. Will only order kimchee and/or beef soon dubu. No seafood.
3. Will request spicy. Not mild, not medium, not medium spicy… I'll just say "spiiiicy" and nod to the server.

For all you spicy tofu fans, stay tuned. If you know of a place in the Bay Area that deserves my attention, by all means post a comment below!

Pho Clement: Huge portions, crazy décor

Map: 239 Clement St., San Francisco, CA

Pho Clement is a visual collision of ideas and intentions— drab fluorescent lighting, pink walls, a waterfall portrait that lights up, a 42” sparkling flat screen monitor hovering over the kitchen, a cumquat tree with Chinese red envelopes hanging off its branches.

That’s why I love the place. Oh, and the food rocks.

I still believe the South Bay has the best pho joints in the Bay Area, but Pho Clement challenges that notion. When I ate there a few months ago I thought the pho tai (my standard order) was top notch: light broth, raw strips of beef on the side, three bowl sizes, firm noodles.

This time I decided to try something different so I ordered a rice plate with an egg roll, chicken wings and pork. I didn’t expect much. What I got was a mountain of meat, rice and raw veggies from the stocky, elderly waiter wearing a Yankees cap. The fried chicken wings were big and juicy, and the two pork chops were well seasoned. Writing this four hours later I’m still burping up that meal, which I hope isn’t a foreboding sign.

My eating companion Leigh also raved about the bun noodles.

“The veggies were fresh, and the fish sauce was tasty, and the rice noodles were cooked perfectly - not too soggy. The pork was plentiful portion wise and pretty lean with little fat. I would go there again. I want to try the pho,” she later wrote me.

Don’t trust us? Then Yelp it.

Maru Ichi: Greasy spoon ramen delight

Map:368 Castro St, Mountain View, CA 94043

It’s a good sign when a ramen place makes its noodles in plain sight. It’s a better sign when they play surf videos.

Ok, I admit I’m a sucker for Maru Ichi because it’s the only place that lets me experience two of my passions in one sitting. But I love this place for its common man diner ambiance (vinyl cushioned booths and plastic canteen glasses included), and its affordable prices.

Like any good fobby joint, the menu is simple and no-frills. There are a dozen noodle choices, mostly ramen with a couple soba options and an udon. The ramen bowls come with thin slices of pork, a clump of bamboo shoots, half of a marinated egg, and a strip of seaweed. Some varieties, such as the black-inked kuro ramen, come with bean sprouts. The noodles are made fresh, thanks to the machine churning out long strands into plastic bins for all of Castro St. to watch.

I usually order the soy sauce (shoyu) ramen combination B, which includes 3 pieces of California roll and 3 greasy dumplings (gyoza) for under $10. Top that off with a glass of Kirin and you’re ready to take a nap under your desk. On cold days or when I’m feeling under the weather, the nabeyake udon rocks my world. It looks and tastes healthy, with its tempura shrimp, shitake mushrooms and piping hot chicken broth.

I boldly declare Maru Ichi as the best ramen place in Mountain View. Take that, you Riowa apologists!

Don’t trust me? Then Yelp it!

Lime Tree: Southeast Asia's greatest hits for under $10

Map: 450A Irving Street San Francisco, CA 94122

Let me start off by saying it's worth the table hovering.

The first time I ate at Lime Tree I was hungry and bitter from having to fight over a table with another famished couple. I was turned off by the techno-green colored walls and the lack of process for seating (since it’s a first-come, first-serve café style). This time, in a more emotionally stable mood, I had enough sense to relish Lime Tree’s fobbiness.

This place screams value. The entrees were less than $8, and with rice included the dishes were pretty filling. The beef rendang came as tender cubes in a gravy had hints of coconut, garlic and spicy oil. The glass noodles had bits of spinach and mushrooms, with a half dozen fresh, buttery shrimp buried underneath. I loved the yogurt chicken because the dark meat was falling off the bone, and because I’m a sucker for stewed chicken over rice.

My fiancée Ellen and I couldn’t figure out what kind of food we ate, so we asked the head chef and part owner Ming, who described the origins as a mix of “Malaysian, Singaporean, Indonesian, Philippino and some Thai.” Somehow Ming, who’s from Indonesia, found a way to make everyone get along through the elegance and simplicity of his cooking. We left satisfied, more educated about Southeast Asian cuisine, not as broke, and convinced that Bali would be an ideal honeymoon spot thanks to Ming's cajoling.

Don't trust me? Then Yelp it.

Seoul on Wheels: Loosen your jaw before eating

Seoul on Wheels has the makings of a brilliant business. Nappy-headed dot-com refugee Julia Yoon and her shadow prep crew cruise around SOMA selling Korean box lunches out of their food van. The menu will make any Korean food nut drool: rice bowls with your choice of meat toppings like gal bee, bool go gee. Or you can skip the flesh and get kimchee fried rice or a big plate of chap chae noodles. Half the fun is figuring out where the bus will be that day by checking the schedule on the Website. It’s like tracking the ice cream man. Or Santa Claus.

It’s gimmicky, smart and fun until you take a bite. The food looks delicious, but so does lacquered sushi. The chap chae is slimy and it tastes like my mom’s lo mein. The rice is crunchy like it was cooked the night before and then microwaved. Here comes the sad part: you get a mound of what seems like beautiful Korean gal bee, but my batch was on the fast track to becoming jerky. By the time I was done, my jaw was sore from chewing so much tendon.

I wanted to fall in love with Seoul on Wheels. Hints of a long-term romance were there: funky name, meat lover’s menu, Korean woman with an afro. But it’s cruel to tempt someone with fobby excellence, only to hand them a plate of yesterday’s lunch meat.

One thing to note: It seems The Man has whittled down the van's route due to licensing issues. You can get live updates on its lunchtime whereabouts on its Super Big Ass Twitter Page.

Don't trust me? Then Yelp it.

Pho Vi Hoa... PVH in da house

Map: 4546 El Camino Real # 12, Los Altos, CA 94022

I've eaten so many times in this place that Hoa the owner confirms my order before I sit down. It's always "P1 large"... the pho tai in a bowl that's bigger than your head. Call me a creature of habit, but when I want the pure stuff, P1 is the order to get. The soup is darker and the noodles more dough-ey than what you'd find in the streets of Hanoi. But the flavor is rich and hearty to warm up the darkest days of winter. Couple that with a turnaround time of less than 5 minutes for the food to come out (yes, I've timed it many times), and PVH becomes a highway to gratification.

For other options I like the rice vermicelli dishes. There's a grilled shrimp, chicken and spring roll combo that's a favorite especially in the summer time when eating P1 large is unbearable. Like most Vietnamese food the bowls are light and fresh with a variety of veggies to complement the heavy meats. If you want something warmer, give the rice dishes a shot. Same combos as the vermicelli, but with rice. Go figure.

Why do I keep coming back? Besides feeling like Norm from Cheers when I walk in, the place is clean and spacious. And unlike many other pho joints, the bowls look like they've been washed.

Don't trust me? Then Yelp it.

A&J Restaurant... Altar of the Noodle Soup Gods

Map: Cupertino Village, 10893 N Wolfe Rd, Cupertino CA

The wait staff scowls at you. The waft of stinky tofu makes your eyes water. Cash only. No English. Ah, that's A&J.

A&J Cafe offers a wide variety of authentic Taiwanese small plates (xiao chi) that, in aggregate, make up a hearty meal. There's an English menu that seems like a foil for all the yummy stuff. If you don't speak or read Chinese, go with someone who does. Service is faster because they hand you a self-serve menu like in sushi restaurants. Mark what you want, wave the sheet in front of a waitress's face and order her to take it away. The ruder the better.

On a fobby scale this place is an 11. I would wager this place makes the best beef noodle soup (hong shao niu ro mien) in the South Bay, although Milpitas purists would probably challenge me. The beef is tender, fatty and melts in your mouth. The noodles are made fresh by the Mexican kitchen staff in back, and you can choose between thin noodles (xi mien) or thick (chu mien). The broth brings back memories of my grandfather's secret recipe: dark from the soy sauce base and a sweet aftertaste from generous portions of star anise. When you burp 30 minutes later you'll realize just how much garlic is in the concoction. The bowls are big, but not pho huge... probably around 6" wide. Each bowl is topped with a couple leaves of Chinese spinach to ease your guilt. I usually pair my niu ro mien with an order of scallion pancakes (cong you bing), which in my opinion A&J makes the best in the South Bay. The pancakes are flaky, salty and not too greasy (but also not too dry). Try dipping a wedge into the niu ro mien broth. I know it sounds ghetto, but it's so good.

There are a ton of options to please your palate at A&J. Their entree-sized dishes are decent, but the good stuff is on that checklist. Just be careful. One mis-translated word, and you're getting intestines in your broth.

Don't trust me? Then Yelp it.