Since the early 1900s, America has often been referred to as a great “melting pot.” The idea is that cultures and ideals from around the world have all been poured together into one big mixing pot and melted into a new culture containing shadows and influences of the cultures that came before it. Here, a blended culture called “American” emerges, where everyone belongs and can find a place to fit in. At least, that’s how I’ve understood it.
The problem with this theory is that it requires us to shed our cultural and ethnic identities in favor of a new, more muted one. It demands a level of assimilation that doesn’t leave room for people to retain their cultural practices and the traditions that bind them together. Some of these traditions are ethnic, some are geographical, but all are meaningful practices that keep us grounded in who we are and where we came from. Rather than being a melting pot, where our differences are expected to melt and merge together, maybe we should be more like a bowl of soup, simmering side by side and adding flavor, texture, variety, and spice to one beautiful human race.
Perhaps the analogy is an oversimplification of hundreds—or thousands—of years of human development and the perceived threats that something different might present. Politics probably doesn’t have much place in a food column, but a deep appreciation for variety, spice, and nuance of flavor certainly does. And if you’re lucky, you’ll find just that in a good bowl of phở.
Phở is a Vietnamese soup, pronounced as “fuh.” I take a lot of pride in accuracy in nuance—pronouncing and spelling people’s names correctly and being precise with language. My very limited understanding of Vietnamese is that the language has 12 vowels instead of English’s five—and a “sometimes” sixth—which means various accent marks, or diacritics, are added to the Latin alphabet to distinguish vowel sounds. In the case of phở, the letter “o” is notated with what Wikipedia describes as “a horn and a hook above.” My deepest apologies to our Vietnamese friends if I get this wrong or miss the mark—diacritics are like marks, get it?—in honoring this delicious contribution to cuisine. But what is it?
Generally speaking, phở is a brothy noodle soup—a sort of “beef stew.” Specific recipes will vary from place to place, but you’ll frequently find slow-cooked beef bones, rice noodles, and toppings such as Thai basil, jalapeños, and bean sprouts added to taste. There are other variations, of course, including vegan phở with tofu.
Thankfully, there are several places to find what many would consider authentic phở here in the Northland, including two standouts: Lucky’s Restaurant in Thunder Bay and Phởholic in Duluth.
Lucky’s Restaurant, Thunder Bay
Thunder Bay boasts a variety of ethnic restaurants that provide residents with plenty of options for a good meal, but Lucky’s Restaurant appears to have won the hearts—and stomachs—of many locals for its phở, specifically its broth.
The phở at Lucky’s is described as lean beef in a rice noodle soup garnished with bean sprouts, cilantro, and lime. Nothing too fancy, but the reviews suggest Lucky’s phở is worth writing home about. Options include lean beef and beef balls, but Lucky’s offers much more as well, including spring rolls, vermicelli noodles, and other favorites.
Lucky’s extensive menu also includes Cantonese dishes such as lo mein with shrimp, barbecue pork, chicken, mixed greens, and egg noodles, along with egg rolls and egg foo young. Their online menu is divided by cuisine, with sections for Chinese, Vietnamese, and Thai dishes, thus making it easier to find exactly what you’re craving. For larger gatherings, Lucky’s Restaurant also offers family dinner packages that accommodate parties of up to six and include a variety of signature dishes, appetizers, and fried rice.
Phởholic, Duluth
Phởholic achieved enough success in Duluth that it opened a second location in 2025 facing Lake Superior on London Road. The original storefront continues to thrive farther up the hill on Central Entrance. Built on hard work and family values, each location has a slightly different menu. This maintains individuality between stores, but rest assured that phở is a prominent menu item at both places.
True to its name, Phởholic serves phở at both locations with rich beef broth, rice noodles, and a generous plate of bean sprouts, thinly sliced jalapeños, basil, and cilantro on the side. Their phở soup options include sliced beef, chicken, oxtail, and vegetable varieties, to name a few. The Special Combination phở features sliced beef brisket, tripe, and meatballs.
In addition to phở, both locations offer Vietnamese sandwiches, spring rolls, and ramen. Phởholic even grows some of its own herbs in-store, so their toppings are fresh and delicious. If you’re in the mood for a boba smoothie, you might try mango, strawberry, or coconut flavors, with or without a generous amount of chewy tapioca pearls.
Even if you don’t regularly wax poetic about soup or find metaphors in simple dishes, I think you should give phở a try if you haven’t already. Like humanity, society, and our own communities, phở is vibrant, full of flavor, and open to a fair amount of interpretation. There aren’t strict rules when it comes to phở. Add the ingredients you love—the crunch of bean sprouts, the spice of jalapeño, or the complexity of a Thai basil leaf—and leave the rest behind.
When those ingredients come together, they create a rich and flavorful meal you won’t soon forget.