Locations in Mills 50: Menu

It's not like throwing tofu in stir-fries or over noodles is exactly ground-breaking in these parts. Asian restaurants abound in soy offerings, and one of the tastiest tofu dishes in town comes from the long-standing Anh Hong, at the crossroads of Mills Avenue and Colonial Drive. (Parking is around back, so don't be thrown off by the busy intersection.) Just say, "No. 146," to jump into "fried tofu stir fried with lemongrass and chili" ($7.95). The peppery batter flavors up the curd and makes for a satisfying bite once you spear a chunk amidst the lemongrass, red chilis, celery, onions and snow peas, all mixed in a sesame-oil-tinged sauce.

The thing that'll take the longest is making your way through the eight-panel takeout menu, which offers the subheadings "squid" and "family dishes." Good news for vegetarians: There are 21 choices under "vegetables" ($7.95-$9.95) making use of noodles, vegetables, rice cakes, rice crepes and eggs.

Subs ($2.50-$5.50) are another cheap staple, with crisp cucumbers, carrots and cilantro added to Vietnamese deli-style meats (bologna and ham), beef stew, grilled pork, beef, chicken or tofu loaded on "French sub" bread. My recent snacking on a bologna sub found the meat to be a bit of a mystery but OK when crunched along with the greenery and the fresh roll.

Smoothies ($3) are another sure bet at Anh Hong. Mango, strawberry and banana are familiar flavors, along with the more exotic jackfruit, sour sop, sapota and durian (the super-stinky tropical fruit). Experiment if you feel daring, but some fruits, like durian, are an acquired (blech) taste. Add an order of summer rolls (two for $2.50) for a fast takeout lunch.

The real mystery is what's in the refrigerator case. Neon-colorful cups of gelatins mixed with unrecognizable fruits mingle with strange plastic-wrapped sandwiches and rice blobs; the baffling descriptions on the labels render the contents lost in translation – sample if you dare.

Mamak brings a semblance of Malaysia’s food-stall culture to Mills 50 with plenty of pan-Asian noodle soups, wok-fired delicacies and small plates. From beef bulgogi and seasoned cod in black bean sauce to char kway teow and kari mee, the dishes here are exemplary and thoroughly gratifying. Get a plate of stir-fried green beans to nosh on throughout your meal. To end, sweet ice kacang is a cold comfort.

If you've ever seen the movie "Tampopo," you're familiar with the delicate balance among flavors, textures and ingredients that makes up a good bowl of noodles. We don't have a traditional Japanese noodle shop in Orlando (excuse me a moment while I weep), but amid the crowd of Vietnam-ese eateries in town, we now have Phó 88, which calls itself a "noodle soup restaurant."

The phone is answered as "Beef Noodle 88," so take that as a hint; the specialty is various cuts of meat in soup, from very rare eye round and brisket to tendon and tripe. Nothing is wasted here. The restaurant is enormous, and it is made even more so by the great expanses of mirrors lining the walls, reminiscent of an exercise studio. The servings are large enough that you might need a workout.

The wrapper on the chopsticks proclaims in Vietnamese, "Enjoy your meal." I have yet to find out the significance of "88." I asked our waiter, who asked the owner and came back to say, "It's a lucky number ... isn't it?" The number 8 is considered lucky to Vietnamese, and there are a few (unrelated) Phó 88s around the country, but just as many Phó 89s, 75s, 79s and 777s. So, it's hard to say where luck lies.

While "phó" usually refers to beef soup, it literally means "your own bowl," as it's a meal that's not meant to be shared. You might want to share, though.

As with Japanese noodles, clarity of broth is a sign of good phó (pronounced "fuh," not "faux"). The masses of very thin rice noodles come submerged in clear, delicately seasoned broth, either beef- or chicken-based. The chicken broth is particularly good, lightly seasoned with ginger and scallion. It's a shame that the chicken meat (I ordered a combo of light and dark on two different occasions) was kind of tough. Soups come in three sizes ($3.95 to $5.95), and the extra-large could easily cradle your head.

Not to say that you can't stuff your head with other dishes. Shrimp, pork and crabmeat (which unfortunately is "faux") can be combined with egg or rice noodles ($5.25 to $7.75). Items that appear on most Vietnamese menus, such as pork and spring rolls on rice vermicelli ($4.95), are here as well -- along with "exotics" like shrimp paste on sugar cane, beef stew and various fried rice dishes.

I advise eating in rather than ordering to go. The noodles tend to become a unified lump if not submerged immediately, and the portions of meat are not as large in takeout.

Noodle shops are the fast-food joints of the Far East, and with Phó 88 in town, why settle for a burger?

20% off for hospitality/medical workers on the front line.

Thai restaurants and restaurants serving Thai food are not an oddity in Orlando, and everyone seems to have their favorite. I must admit that I never counted Thai House on East Colonial as one of mine. But by moving two doors down, they've reinvented themselves and given me an excuse to take another look, and another taste.

In its new digs next to Wendy's (a better example of yin and yang you won't find), the owners of Thai House have done a fine remodeling job, with varying shades and textures of woods surrounding the room, along with tables and several platform booths that give you the feeling of sitting on the floor without having to crouch down. Service is fast and attentive, and people are courteous and smile, even to the diner at another table who was (briefly) bellowing into his cell phone when I was there.

This isn't some recombinant Viet-Thai, sushi-Thai, nouveau-Asian amalgam cuisine. The items on Thai House's extensive menu are authentic, from the mee krop appetizer ($5.95) -- sticky, crisp rice noodles with a sweet/spicy tamarind sauce and shrimp -- to the strong herbal iced tea with half-and-half.

My test of good Thai food is always tom kha gai, coconut chicken soup ($2.95). While Thai House's recipe was slightly too thin and not coconutty enough for my tastes, the soup had a lovely lime aroma, and the preparation probably saved me a few unneeded grams of fat.

Some names on the menu could be rethought, like "shipwrecked" ($12.95), a spicy baked dish of squid, shrimp and crab with bean threads. One dish from the "house special" page had the unfortunate name of "Smokey and the Bandit" ($11.95), which caused me to pause. Nonetheless, I was smart enough to overlook the name and order it; it's a small tureen of smoked shrimp with thin glass noodles, cross-sections of carrot and broccoli and a fish-sauce base, with so much chili and ginger that the aftertaste actually feels cold in your mouth. It's a perfect match with the ubiquitous sticky rice; ask for extra.

Familiar dishes are well represented, like a decent green curry of chicken, beef or pork ($8.95), and a truly wonderful phad thai ($7.95), stir-fried noodles and either chicken or shrimp, all tangy with lime juice and lemon leaves.

Standard entrees won't cost you more than $12.95, with certain "market-priced" fish dishes, such as a whole steamed red snapper, that can be slightly higher. But the servings are generous enough that any order is a bargain.