Hidden gem: Truc Lam
Near the northwest corner of Grand and Gravois sits Truc Lam, a small, barely noticeable Vietnamese restaurant with a generic dark green awning and a neon sign in the window. Inside, floor-to-ceiling dark wood paneling creates a time warp back to the seventies. Décor is sparse: a plastic clock, a few paintings, and cheaply framed posters grace the walls, while green and orange bamboo paintings on the light panels of the institutional drop ceiling don’t add much charm. All of these elements make the restaurant seem almost dingy, but everything, even the floors, is spotlessly clean. To be sure, this is not a first date restaurant, but what Truc Lam lacks in ambiance, it makes up for in generous portions, rich flavors, and prices as low as the decorating budget.
Truc Lam’s 181-item menu seems overwhelming but is really just many variations on a few basic dishes. Almost every item can be classified as a noodle soup, noodle bowl, or rice plate. The largely Vietnamese clientele and minimally (very minimally) English-speaking staff are good indicators of the menu’s authenticity.
Not starting a meal with Truc Lam’s barbecued pork spring rolls, or goi thit cuon, would be a mistake. Both healthier and more flavorful than their fried counterparts, these uncooked rolls are stuffed with warm meat, cool vegetables, chewy vermicelli, and fresh herbs. Springy, translucent rice paper holds everything together and a thick, peanuty dipping sauce pushes this intensely flavored appetizer into another realm. It is more common to find plain shrimp, tofu, or pork skin in a spring roll (Truc Lam also offers these variations); barbecued pork with fresh mint leaves is a revelation (and costs just $2.80 for a plate of two rolls).
In any Vietnamese restaurant, diners hover over gigantic, stunningly inexpensive bowls of soup that look like they could easily feed four people. The most popular, pho, is a beef noodle soup with thin, white rice noodles and some combination of rare beef (which gets cooked by the broth), beef tendon, beef balls, beef tripe, and beef shank. The soups come with heaping plates of fresh bean spouts, basil, mint, and lime wedges to add to the dish. Perhaps more palatable to Midwesterners, though, is mu hoanh thanh, egg noodle soup with wontons and barbecued pork. Chewy crimped egg noodles (not unlike Japanese ramen) swish through broth that becomes richer with each satisfying slurp. This is umami, the so-called fifth flavor, a savory sensation that enhances the taste of everything around it. Flat, wide, slippery wonton noodles give way to little balls of scrumptious pork filling, and chopped scallions add color and a slightly acidic bite. Small slices of pork edged in muted magenta aren’t exactly lean, but have loads more flavor than we’ve come to expect from “the other white meat.”
The one aberration from this restaurant’s otherwise excellent offerings seems to be the tofu dishes. Com dau hu xao xa ot, sautéed spicy tofu with lemongrass, contains a throat-scratching amount of the citrusy, woody herb. The tofu is sour and soggy, and the accompanying rice is dry. Com dau hu xao curry, sautéed tofu with curry sauce, bathes equally unpleasant tofu in a bland golden curry sauce.
For dessert, try one of the many shakes (called “fruit blended” on the menu). The avocado shake (sinh to bo) isn’t as unusual as it sounds: avocado’s mellow flavor morphs effortlessly into a sweet, creamy dessert that has only subtle notes of the fruit it’s made from. In fact, it nearly resembles a sumptuous vanilla shake. Dense and filling, this drink is almost a meal in itself. The less adventurous can savor the aptly named ca phe, a delectable coffee shake with an intense roasted coffee flavor that puts the Starbucks Frappuccino to shame.
As in Europe, the best and perhaps only way to get the check at the end of the meal is to ask for it. The service is friendly enough, but not noteworthy. Those who speak Vietnamese may have a better experience in this regard.
The restaurant has a parking lot in back as well as street parking. Non-smokers might prefer takeout, since most of the restaurant’s patrons seem to smoke like chimneys and the restaurant is too small to have any meaningful nonsmoking section. While Truc Lam may not have the most enchanting atmosphere, most of the food is so inexpensive and delicious that the surroundings hardly matter.
Amy Fontinelle is the editor of the website Seeing St. Louis, www.seeingstlouis.com. You can e-mail her at seeingstlouis@gmail.com.
