If you drive far enough east from downtown Spokane on Sprague Avenue — about 8 miles, give or take — you'll be greeted by an ill-timed sign.
"Happy Father's Day!" it says in black letters on the marquee.
Underneath it, also in black letters, is a typical passer-by's reaction.
"What the pho?"
It's the sign outside Hot Pot & Pho (pronounced "fuh"), one of Spokane Valley's newest restaurants. The building sat empty and unattended for a while, which is why the Father's Day greeting was never taken down. But now it's a joke between owner Thuy Pham, her business partner Brian Naccarato, and the internet.
"One day a year it's gonna be exactly right," Naccarato says. "Everyone on social media is talking about it. I think when we're done with the grand opening I'll put Mother's Day on the other side."
It's not just the self-aware sarcasm that sets the new lunch and dinner spot apart. Pham's new restaurant offers traditional Vietnamese soups like pho, but it's also the first dedicated hot pot restaurant to open in the Spokane area. Hot pot is a traditional meal centered on a pot of boiling broth that each person gets to add to and cook the food they want.
In Vietnam, the hot pot might be a big pot over a bonfire or a bowl over a hot plate in the middle of the dining table. At Hot Pot & Pho, there are high-tech hot pot tables, each with inset, heated basins for the broth so the top of the pot is level with the top of the table. Diners get to choose a combo of broth, meat, veggies, noodles or tofu to cook at the table. Big plates of ingredients and pots of broth are brought out by a rolling, singing robot. It's an immersive experience that Spokanites have already been flocking to.
The restaurant has been quietly open since December, serving customers who found out about the opening by word of mouth. The operators were still putting finishing touches on the building and service into the beginning of 2024. But on Feb. 11, the start of the Lunar New Year, Pham and Naccarato held their grand opening. Hot Pot & Pho is officially open and ready for business.
Behind two carved wooden doors, the dining room at Hot Pot & Pho is soft gray-blue with dark wooden accents. Faux floral arrangements over the archways and gilded gold ceiling tiles add the perfect touch of kitsch.
Pham is in the kitchen, overseeing the broths that take 16 hours to make, or prepping hot pot ingredients like meat and fresh veggies. Naccarato is in the front room, helping guests, training servers, solving problems on the fly. He does most of the talking for the establishment because Pham is self-conscious about her English. But she's fluent enough to initiate a lot of joking around.
There are plenty of typical tables for regular menu items. Bowls of pho come with tofu, chicken or beef, in both small and large portions ($14.95-$17.95). Spring rolls and egg rolls (both $6.95 for two) are popular appetizers, and Pham's bun bo Hue, ($18, and pronounced "boon bah Hway") is a traditional Vietnamese soup from the nation's ancient capital that's popular with spice lovers.
Ten of the tables are designated hot pot tables ($28.95 per person). Some are family-style with a big pot in the middle, others are individual with little pots for each seat. There are three broths to choose from, and the family-style pot can be split in half to include two different kinds.
"Most people are picking the clear or the sweet and sour," Naccarato says. "There is a spicy option that people can do — up to level nine or 10 — which has a habanero ghost pepper and jalapeño mix. You'll remember it for weeks."
The whole hot pot experience starts with a robot. It has shelves for a torso, a high-pitched voice, and big, blinking, digital eyes. Each hot pot requires lots of heavy ingredients, and carrying all that weight can take a toll on human servers working long hours, Naccarato says. The robot can roll through the dining room and deliver ingredients to a table, which are then unloaded and set out by an accompanying server. The humans stay fresh, and the restaurant gets an unofficial mascot.
"[Pham] had to get the robot because she thought it was the cutest thing ever," Naccarato says. "It just makes her giggle. It's her baby. The robot's name is Brian. No relation."
Pham seems like the perfect person to introduce an ancient tradition with futuristic technology, since she's a cross between two worlds, too. She came to the U.S. in 2001 from Vietnam as part of an exchange program. She thought her English would be good enough to work, but after arriving, she quickly realized it wasn't. People spoke too fast. She was too nervous to answer the phone. So she took a job at a manufacturing company and then became a janitor at Mongolian BBQ, also on Sprague Avenue.
It was there that Pham started dreaming of owning her own restaurant. She worked, saved, learned about business and finally opened her own restaurant, Vien Dong Far East Asia, with the help of her former employers. She only operated Vien Dong on East Sprague for about a year, selling it in 2005 when the Mongolian BBQ went up for sale. In loyalty and love, Pham bought the barbecue from the owners who supported her through so much.
Pham opened another Mongolian BBQ in Airway Heights in 2010. Both Mongolian spots were doing well, but the desire to cook Vietnamese food never left. In 2019, Pham started making plans to open a Vietnamese restaurant in Airway Heights. Plans fell apart in 2020, the ultimate restaurant wreckage year. She shared her struggles with a regular at the Mongolian spot.
"I would go there probably once a week," Naccarato says. "It was just a routine I had. But Thuy was also a reason to go there. Everybody loves Thuy. And Thuy loves everybody. She's really amazing."
Naccarato has been in the Air Force, in real estate, in finance and consulting. The savvy, sleek businessman had a different job lined up when he heard about Pham's dream. He offered to help Pham build her Vietnamese restaurant in Spokane Valley instead of starting his new job.
"I think a lot of people would follow her to the ends of the earth just because of how sweet she is," he says. "Literally this thing was built on heart, sweat and tears."
The two joke that they're still janitors at the restaurant, fixing broken plumbing and cleaning up after the rest of the staff has gone home. But they pass the time and stress by making fun of each other and making up more pho puns. More than anything, Pham is relieved to be making her favorite Vietnamese dishes again.
"Every time I check in with the customer and ask, 'Oh, how is it?' [and they say,] 'So good!' it makes me [feel] so, so good," Pham says. "It's not just about money. [I want] people to enjoy the food. It makes me happy." ♦
Hot Pot & Pho • 11110 E Sprague Ave., Spokane Valley • Open Wed-Sun 11 am-8 pm (Fri-Sat until 9 pm) • 509-862-4944