A couple of years ago, I was blown away by Pho, the Vietnamese national dish. We were in Hanoi, and I had heard a lot about this fabled beef broth. Hundreds of street stalls in Hanoi sell this simple, cheap noodle soup that millions eat at breakfast. But this description does not cover its depth of flavour and complexity.

I came across an exemplary Pho place here in Walnut Creek, a small town near San Francisco, where my wife and I are staying with my son Shakir and his family. They moved here recently, although Shakir will be commuting between Karachi and California, perhaps the longest commute in the world. I was very pleased to learn that Danyaal, my eight-year-old grandson, loves the local Pho joint, and we went there on our first day here.

The restaurant was large and airy, and as it takes no reservations, we had to wait a bit for a table. The menu offers multiple choices around the Pho theme: different cuts and kinds of meat, as well as seafood. For starters we had prawn dumplings served with a peanut sauce; these were quickly followed by bowls of steaming Pho. I had ordered a medium-sized serving with thinly sliced beef, but even this was huge. Helpings in most American restaurants tend to be more than generous, and I will keep this in mind when I next go out for a meal.

This week enjoy a Vietnamese dish that’s not too difficult to prepare

In Vietnam, we spent a week in Hoi An, a picturesque colonial coastal town, and went to the Red Bridge restaurant that specialises in Pho. Here, we were given a lesson on how to make the dish by the chef, and then sample our handiwork. Here’s his recipe:

Cook a kilo of large beef bones on a dry pan for five minutes, then add them to a large pot of boiling water. Sautee a piece of ginger, two sticks of cinnamon, a cardamom, two pieces of star anise, a whole white onion, two shallots (use another onion if you can’t find shallots) and two teaspoons of sugar for two minutes, and add all these ingredients to the boiling water.

While this broth is simmering, slice some steak very thin. To accompany the Pho, dice some spring onion, chop some fresh coriander and mint leaves, quarter a couple of limes or lemons, chop some celery and grab some bean sprouts. After the broth has simmered for at least an hour, but preferably longer, add the sliced beef and some rice noodles and allow them to cook until done in around five minutes. Serve in bowls.

I became acquainted with Napoleon, as the king size barbecue was called. Made of stainless steel, it was four feet wide, nearly three feet deep, and had three separate gas burners with individual controls.

As I wrote recently, summer in North America is all about barbecuing in the back garden, and I have been doing lots of that on this trip. At our borrowed house in St Andrews, I became acquainted with Napoleon, as the king size barbecue was called. Made of stainless steel, it was four feet wide, nearly three feet deep, and had three separate gas burners with individual controls.

While I have sneered at gas-fired barbecues in the past, the fact is that they are very convenient and you can work up a fierce heat in no time at all. The Napoleon had a temperature gauge on the lid that indicated a maximum of 370 degree, which can sear a steak in a couple of minutes. With the lid closed, I watched as the needle swung towards the maximum very quickly.

As my old friend Naseer Fancy from Karachi was in our bit of Canada for a family wedding, we invited him over for lunch, with four of his relatives. A few days ago, we had gone to St George, a small town with an excellent butcher. Terry is an Australian, and really knows his meat. Among other things, we bought a leg of lamb that I deboned at home.

I marinated it with yoghurt, cumin powder, red chilli flakes, freshly ground pepper, a couple of onions, three garlic cloves, and an inch of fresh ginger. These ingredients plus some olive oil went into a blender and whizzed for two minutes into a paste. This went all over the lamb which was then covered with cling film and placed in the fridge overnight.

A couple of hours before lunchtime, I took out the meat to bring it to room temperature. The barbecue was turned on to full; this allowed me to scrape off the bits of old cooked food from the grill as it turned into ash at this heat. As soon as our guests arrived, I slapped the meat on the hot grill, and let it sizzle for a couple of minutes before flipping it.

Given the weight and thickness of the meat, the choice was between cooking it on a low heat for at least an hour or so, or blasting it at full strength for around 15 minutes so the inside was pink and juicy while the outside was slightly charred. I went for the latter option as our guests had driven the whole morning, and were hungry. The result was most satisfactory, and the lamb served with baby potatoes I had parboiled and popped in the oven with olive oil and fresh rosemary. Napoleon had clearly triumphed.

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, August 24th, 2014