I have written at length over the years about the trials and tribulations of finding a consistently good bowl of Pho in Oslo.

Pho Mai used to be good, Sea Sushi is the best at the moment but even they have been prone to a couple of watered-down moments, Far East has decent Pho but is expensive and the portion is far too large. And then comes Da Lat. 

I enjoyed a bowl of "Nordic Ramen" at Hrimnir in the summer of 2020, leaving with a sense that they were half way to accomplishing something great. Some of the foundations were in place, but the small nuances that elevate a dish from good to great had not been utilised. 

I'm not known for my vegan food hunts, but I spent the last three summers living with a vegetarian/vegan and therefore had to completely change the way I cooked.

I even got to a stage where I did five different vegan pizza's and honestly didn't miss the cheese or meat aspect. 

Thai food is incredibly difficult to get in Oslo. Authentic Thai, I should clarify. Generally the consensus is to make food that reminds Norwegians of their 2 weeks in Phuket, and therefore has absolutely nothing to do with real food the way Thai people eat it. They have been duped into thinking the green curry they had at "Ting Tong Bar" was the real deal. I hate to break it to you, it wasn't.

I must admit, it's been over 15 years since I had two successive lunches in the space of an hour. That bashful memory is shrouded in the endurance of stomach cramps for going on two hours after foolishly thinking eating another steak moments after finishing the first one was smart. It wasn't.

Based on the name alone I should have given this a hard, hard pass, but I was floating around town meeting up with old friends and certain decisions were not of my making. I reluctantly agreed, wanting to appease rather than to kick up the dust of stubborn routines. I walked the streets knowingly walking into a lions den that would rob me of money and leave me feeling wanton and lost.

It's impressive when a chef can put multiple ingredients on a dish and render it tasteless. Such was my experience of Breddos today but I will return at a later date as I have heard on good authority that consistency is their kryptonite. ​

Åneby, a tiny town of 1500 people, 40 minutes from Oslo is hardly the sort of place you'd imagine finding a Filipino take-away. However, a gang of four sisters from outside Manila took over an empty storefront by the main road and opened an Asian supermarket and a small take-away housed in an old trailer. 

If this wasn't the saddest burger on earth, I don't want to meet it's nemesis. Wrapped in the swanky air of a burger shop that "cares", with long lists of where they procure their beef, the aging process, trendy signs all meant to lure you into a false sense of security, and encourage you to open your wallet strings wider. I call bullshit.

I am fully aware that I show favouritism towards asian cuisine on this blog, but I'm not going to apologise for it. I grew up in Asia, have spent half my adult life there, and crave fruits from her bounty every waking minute of existence. Having said all that, it can be problematic fawning over authentic Asian food and living in a city like Oslo. Choices are plentiful, good choices are slim.

The demons of broth-shakes awoke, propelling me into an uneasy wakeful state where the mind and the body felt a deep disconnection. I wandered around in a half-daze plying myself with coffee, to no avail. As the fractured compartments of life fell into place like an awkward game of Tetris, I sought an answer to his suffering.

​The answer? Pho.

Let's face it, it's near impossible to get an epic burger in Oslo. Sure some people swear by Illegal, crave Munchies or crowd around Døgnvill,  but none of them manage to successfully produce a well prepared patty kissed by two buns and a variety of condiments or toppings. 

Run of the mill Indian food is a dime a dozen in Oslo. There are literally hundreds of restaurants charging a premium for rather ordinary food under the guise that Indian cuisine is somehow worth the jump in price. Personally if i'm dying for a fill, I inevitably head for Lahore Dera in Grønland where the food is cheap, tasty and always consistent. However, sometimes you deserve a little tablecloth service, and then the food should reflect the cost.

Having purposefully walked past this place a million times, peering in and convincing myself that no serious Vietnamese place would call themselves Miss Gin, today I finally decided to try it. Struggling to find a Banh Mi in Oslo that I would return to, I whipped in, ordered the pork and sat waiting whilst assembly and wrapping was completed in the microscopic kitchen.

They put the dry in "dry-aged". My last meal at The Vandelay was a triumph of great flavours, good service and decent prices for the quality of the ingredients rendered. I had been meaning to try the much talked about burger for months, but never quite got around to it. Freshly returned to the city with a brimfull of optimism, I called a friend and we headed down to barcode to finally sink our teeth into what we expected would be the best burger in town. 

Encountering a friendly, enthusiastic person behind a counter is not something I'm used to in Norway. Apart from the occasional kind face (usually a foreigner), the state of customer service in this country is lacking.

Within the realms of grab-as-you-go food, there can surely be nothing better than a proper Banh Mi? Standing in line in perpetual sweat torrents in Ho Chi Minh watching the furious movements of well routined ladies packing fresh baguettes with paté, meat, coriander, cucumbers, carrots and their sauce of choice as the line seems to swell larger than they could ever extinguish. ​