When My and Tami Trinh opened Pho Grand (3195 South Grand Boulevard, 314-664-7435) in 1989, the South Grand commercial district looked much different from the vibrant, international culinary landscape that exists there today. That was intentional.
"Back when we opened, this was a special heritage district, and there were no Asian restaurants," Tami recalls. "I had to go to a woman who managed South Grand Boulevard and then to three different meetings to go over our vision of the business. They told me it was OK to open but that they really only wanted one Asian restaurant on South Grand. Now, when I go in to renew our licenses, people always thank us. They tell us that between us and the King and I, we brought this area back to life. It's come a long way."
Those heaps of praise Tami receives at City Hall are not merely polite banter, as the Trinh family's undeniable impact on the St. Louis dining scene extends far beyond South Grand and into the area's dining community as a whole. Their impact has crystalized in the minds of area diners since the Trinhs announced last month that they would be closing their beloved Vietnamese mainstay on Monday, June 13.
It was a decision the family did not make lightly but one that became clearer to them as they continued to weather the hardships that the COVID-19 pandemic has heaped upon the hospitality industry. From staffing issues to product availability to food costs, the Trinhs, like most of their fellow restaurant owners, have found themselves unable to achieve a decent quality of life in the fraught restaurant landscape. After dedicating themselves to the industry for over three decades, My and Tami concluded they need to let go of the life they've embraced all these years.
It was not an easy decision. For 33 years, the Trinhs have been lovingly serving their acclaimed Vietnamese cuisine — something that today's diners take for granted. When Pho Grand opened, there were few ways to enjoy Vietnamese food in the area, and launching a restaurant dedicated solely to the cuisine was seen as such a risk that even Tami's mom tried to talk her out of it.
"When we first envisioned Pho Grand, there wasn't a Vietnamese restaurant in St. Louis," Tami says. "Back in the '80s, Chinese restaurants were popular. My mom was so old-fashioned. I told my mother, and she said that American people didn't know what to think of Vietnamese food. But we eat beef and pork, and our food is so vibrant that we wanted to share it."
While Tami brought to the table a knack for hospitality and front-of-house operations, My was the brains of the kitchen. A talented cook with a mind that intuitively understood flavor profiles, My learned traditional Vietnamese recipes from his mother and honed his craft over years cooking for his family. When he and Tami moved to the U.S., they fell into the restaurant business when My's sister needed help at her Chinese restaurant. After helping her out, they realized they had the know-how and the courage to strike out on their own.
The Trinhs opened Pho Grand with a simple, handwritten menu and the modest goal of making $300 a day. It was slow-to-steadygoing at first, but a review from then-St. Louis Post-Dispatch restaurant critic Joe Pollack completely transformed their business a few months after they opened. Known as a kingmaker, Pollack could make or break a spot with the stroke of his pen.
"He came in to eat, and one of our regulars said, 'That's the famous critic for the Post-Dispatch,' but I didn't know who it was," Tami says. "She told us that if he gave us a good review, our business would skyrocket, but by the time I knew he was there, it was too late. I gave him no special treatment. A week later, he came back and told me to look for the newspaper tomorrow, which was Thursday, and said to be prepared for Friday, because we would have a line out the door. That night, I couldn't sleep. I went out and got the newspaper the next morning and couldn't believe it. This was our first time opening something and to get that recognition — it just took off after that."
Business became so robust for the Trinhs that they needed a larger location. The family moved the restaurant a couple of doors down to its current home in 2000. They credit that loyal customer base with helping them weather the pandemic and have been heartened by the outpouring of support they've received. As Tami says, the restaurant is busier than it has ever been, and it breaks her heart to close because she knows how much it means to their regulars. Still, she and her husband know they are making the right decision.
"COVID hit, and it made you prioritize your life," Tami says. "We know so many people who have gotten sick and have passed. When this started, we told our staff that when they are going through a rough time, we are all going to go through the rough time together. We were able to keep all of our employees working in the kitchen, and once people found out we were open, it was crazy busy. Now that we've reopened the dining room, it is still busy, but we are tired. This has been in the back of our minds for a while, but after one long and exhausting day, we finally talked about it and both came to the same conclusion."
Tami says that the goal was always to get their children through college and reevaluate their business, and this year, that finally happened with their daughter completing her PhD program. Their son, Andrew, has been helping out with the restaurant for as far back as he can remember and has a passion for the industry. Still, he hopes to branch out on his own and thinks that, even if he wanted to take over the restaurant from his parents, the current climate has made owning a restaurant a more difficult endeavor than ever.
"I enjoy it; I grew up in it, but when COVID hit it made something that was sustainable and made sense in 1989 no longer make sense now," Andrew says. "We've thought about what we can do to change it, but we don't want to change it overnight. People know my mom. They know the food. It's not my baby, and it's not mine to change, but it's not sustainable."
Tami echoes this sentiment and notes that, though there have been a few offers to buy Pho Grand, she would never put the restaurant that she and her family have dedicated so much of their lives to into someone else's hands. The only option is to say goodbye — or at least see you later — no matter how bittersweet it may be.
"I love what I do and really don't want to stop — my husband, too — and if we had all the help in the world, it might be another story," Tami says. "We're not getting any younger, and we want to travel. This might not be the end; we might travel for the year and come back and do something small. You never know. It's hard to let go, but you have to learn to do so. We love this place, but it is time."
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