A head-to-head comparison of the ultimate beef extravaganza
Bò 7 món (literally 7 courses of beef) doesn’t come up often in Vietnamese menus. It’s a splurge and it takes a lot of kitchen prep work. I only know of 5 specialists in Toronto in the last decade. Only 2 remain today: Bo 7 Mon Restaurant and Phở Cửu Long Miền Tây. If there are other good ones, please let me know!
Since there are so few contenders, it’s easy to do a head-to-head battle to determine who makes the best bò 7 món.
What goes in a bò 7 món
Bò 7 món is associated with Southern Vietnam, which is more affluent than the rest of the country. In fact, the oldest specialist in Vietnam, Au Pagolac, is located in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City). There isn’t a prescription about what the 7 courses are, but there is usually one sausage dish, a beef hot pot (bò nhúng dấm), and beef congee (cháo bò).
The contenders
Bo 7 Mon Restaurant
The name says it all. It’s a weird name if you think about it, like a burger restaurant naming themselves “Burger Restaurant”. Although they can’t trademark the name, it does make it clear what they sell.
This restaurant is in a plaza dominated by Vietnamese restaurants. They’re all better than average and have carved out their own niche to avoid direct competition. Although Bo 7 Mon Restaurant’s specialty is obvious, they also have regular noodles and rice meals for those who want something simpler.
Phở Cửu Long Miền Tây
This restaurant sits at a junction that has a cluster of Vietnamese restaurants. Đà Nẵng Restaurant is a few minutes walk away and also has bò 7 món, though they are better known for their Central Vietnamese dishes.
There are less than five Dominican (the republic, not Dominica) restaurants I know of in Toronto. Sazón Latino has the best atmosphere for a sit-down meal. It even has Salvadoran food for variety too.
Mofongo to go
Don’t tell Puerto Rico, but the Dominican Republic (DR) also has good mofongos. It’s a simple but labourious dish to make. Plantains are deep-fried, then mashed into a paste with lard. It’s served with an assertive and tangy garlic sauce. A good mofongo should be smooth like mashed potatoes and the sauce should cut through the fattiness.
Updated on 2021-10-19 to include Las San Sivar and Pupuseria Delicias Costa del Sol. Rankings have changed.
I tried (almost) all the pupuserias in Toronto so you don’t have to
Ever since Emporium Latino burned down in October 2020, it left a pupusa-shaped hole in my heart. It was where I had pupusas for the first time and I still have fond memories of their comforting masa and spicy curtido. I’ve struggled to find a comparable replacement. When it seemed like Emporium Latino was not destined to re-open, it was time to journey across Toronto for a worthy successor.
Ode to pupusas
Pupusas are emblematic of El Salvador cuisine. In fact, I visited the country solely to eat pupusas. Pupusas are corn flour pancakes stuffed with various ingredients and then toasted on a griddle. The corn flour used is invariably Maseca.
Traditional fillings don’t have a lot of range. It’s any combination of:
Frijoles refritos: mashed and fried beans
Queso: cheese; either mozzarella or queso fresco
Chicharrón: finely-ground pork, fried with tomatoes, onions, and other aromatics
Zucchini
Loroco: flower bud with a grassy taste, unique to El Salvador and some parts of Guatemala
The popular combination of frijoles, queso, and chicharrón has its own name: pupusa revuelta. Also known as pupusa con todo (with everything).
Pupusas are usually accompanied by curtido and salsa de tomate. Curtido is a lightly fermented cabbage and carrot slaw, seasoned with oregano and doused with vinegar. Salsa de tomate translates to tomato sauce, but really, it’s a tomato soup.
Places that sell pupusas are called pupuserias.
What makes a perfect pupusa
For the pupusa itself, it’s form, ingredients, and flavour.
The best pupusas are perfectly round and of uniform thickness. Surfaces are flat with minimal finger indentations. It should be toasted golden with some brown splotches. The dough shouldn’t be too thick like a gordita. But if chefs make it too thin, they run the risk of the filling bursting out of the shell when heated. While some may like the caramelization and burnt bits from leaked fillings, I prefer an intact pupusa. It demonstrates the skill of the chef. Almost all pupusas in this test failed on this front.
The choice of ingredients also reflect a premium pupusa. Queso fresco is more expensive than mozzarella and has a more crumbly texture and stronger taste. Loroco is not a common ingredient in Toronto and some chefs may be stingy with it. For chicharrón, chefs have latitude in the pork cuts and aromatics used. Ingredients should be well-mixed and distributed evenly within the pupusa.
Finally, flavour matters the most. The masa (corn dough) should have a warm corn fragrance. The pupusa should not be shining in oil. For pupusas de queso y loroco (cheese and loroco), the herb should meld with the cheese and add pleasant crunch. For pupusas revueltas, the ratio of meat, beans, and cheese is key. All three should be discernible but also harmonize.
I don’t put much weight to the curtido and salsa de tomate. They play second fiddle and are not something people would buy on their own. Personally, I like a mildly fermented and acidic curtido. The knife skills of the chef will be evident from the consistency and thinness of the chopped vegetables. For salsa de tomate, the best ones are fresh, filled with pulp, and have moderately complex flavours from herbs like onions and bell peppers. Bad ones are one-dimensional and taste like canned tomato soup.
Taste test method
Two pupusas were used for comparison: pupusa revuelta and pupusa de queso y loroco. They are the two most iconic pupusas and require the most skill to balance flavours.
All pupusas were takeout orders and tasted 2 to 6 hours after preparation. Texture suffers when they are not eaten fresh, so I don’t score them on this aspect.
Consistency in shape of the two pupusas were noted.
Pupusas were tasted again the next day after re-heating.
100% Salvadoreño
Cien por ciento Salvadoreño is a modest restaurant nestled in a quiet residential area. You can tell it’s family-run with children playing behind the counter.
The pupusas had a moderate aroma. They were crisp and mottled black.