It’s no secret that I’m an omnivore. I’ve also made it clear (in many columns) that I want you to reach outside your culinary comfort zone. Both of these thoughts pop in my mind when a colleague suggests that CL send me to review Lotus Vegetarian Restaurant. It’s one of several places that give Pinellas Park its “little Saigon” moniker.
I am aware, as the father of a vegan daughter, that great strides have been made with fake meat. How this will translate fills me with anticipation, but I’m in a Buddhist state of mind ... “om”ing along with NPR as I approach the Lotus parking lot. Suddenly, I wonder if I’m in the right place. Two tall waving orange banners catch my eye. Is this a used car lot? No, it seems that in this clash of cultures, full-blown American commercial razzmatazz has trumped calm tranquility. Lotus, it seems, is the place for L-U-N-C-H — according to the unmissable banners that welcome patrons and assault passersby. And at $5.99 for specials including a spring roll, veggie soup and rice, who can argue?
However, I’ve come in the evening with some veg-head dining companions in tow, and for us, dinner commences with some spring rolls. Actually, Lotus offers rolls in translucent rice wrappers for all four seasons, plus a fresh roll with a tasty peanut sauce. The real surprise is the fall roll filled with lettuce, crisp veggie “hamburger,” and ripe pineapple. With a sesame-based sauce filled with tiny apple bits, it makes your palate stand up and take notice. It’s as delicious as it is unexpected. Score one for the fake meat and sweet fruit combo; try this and you’ll never again ask, “Where’s the beef?”
The wonton soup seems like a good choice to explore the vegan world. What can possibly make the broth taste savory? As it turns out, the answer is cumin. The soup is full of depth and crunchy veggies. The deep-fried wontons are served on the side. I toss two of them in the liquid, but save the third to nibble alone. They’re very different from the usual pork-filled soft noodles, but are yummy nonetheless. As we wait for our entrees, there have been no compromises on taste.
As with most Vietnamese establishments, entree choices are built around stir-fry, noodles, and rice. Lotus also has a hot pot (for 2) where you can cook your own tofu or veggie variations, swirling tasty tidbits until they are done to your liking. We hop on bún bò huê’, a rice vermicelli and lemon grass soup that has Yelpers swooning. One taste of the complex broth and you can see why. Miraculously, without meat, the spicy soup still conjures layers of flavor. Slices of fake beef and crisp tofu combine with veggies and a plate of “add-your-own-fresh-sprouts-to-taste” to make for a delicious meal. Come hungry, because the bowl is huge.
The vegetarian noodle stir-fry (mì xào thâp câ´m) is also ample and enchanting. Particularly if you’re a fan of bell peppers, you’ll like this one. Chunks of red and green glisten among the crisp broccoli, mushrooms, snow peas, carrots and onion. It’s a melange of textures and flavors where adding meat seems superfluous.
Among the rice dishes, I just can’t contain myself waiting to see what arrives when I order the soy-pork chop. Much to my surprise, it's reminiscent of my first CL dining experience, when I was introduced to lechon kawali, a Filipino deep-fried pork. Small nuggets of crisp “fat” trick your tongue; are you sure this isn’t pork? Nope, it’s an unexplained culinary doppelgänger. There’s not quite the same chew or luscious mouth feel, but I’m still dumbfounded.
Lotus is a true Mom-and-Pop operation, with Mom as cook and server, so don’t expect quick service. Pop did a good job of keeping our water glasses full, though, especially after I quickly disposed of my fresh and delicious lemonade.
The owners also harness technology by surveying all their customers and posting a series of 15 colorful bar graphs on their website. Each section of the menu is rated on a continuum: “must-have,” “please cook,” “I’ll try it,” “I am curious,” “do not have.” As for me, I’m still an omnivore, but Lotus has made me a believer, and I’m ready to return for L-U-N-C-H.
