“But doesn’t it just pass right through you?”
No question has haunted my career more than that one.
Hi. I’m Ahmnam Nahmnom, professional after-death dining critic. Just as troubled human souls live on here on Earth, so do those of restaurants whose lives ended in a bit of a dramatic flavor.
In the living world, I was an aspiring dining critic when I died, tragically, while I was out doing what I loved—eating and reviewing a new restaurant. The end came when a piece of (undercooked and underseasoned, with no real flavor profile to speak of) chicken breast lodged in my throat.
I was devastated that my career—and my life—was cut short. You can only imagine my delight when I saw my first spectral eatery. Sure, Scratch French Café was a little more see-through than I remembered, the pastries even lighter. But it was all there. I knew I could fight on for my dream job in the afterlife!
Surprised by all this? Yeah, bet you never thought to ask spirits about the after-death dining scene. It’s fine — no, really. Just keep it up with the “What’s your name?” and “How’d you die?” questions on your little Ouija board.
No, I’m not bitter. Why would you say that? Ugh. Let’s just get on with it.
Bonjour Vietnam
Think that icy, goosebumps-inducing chill you feel whenever you accidentally pass too close to a ghost is rough? Try feeling that cold inside all the time. Hands down the worst part of being a tormented soul doomed to walk the earth. That’s why I was so giddy to see the astral lights inside Bonjour Vietnam start flickering on our side of the void.
With all flavors more dull in the afterlife, Pho is great way to warm up and still taste some spice. A large Dead Biet ($10) pho, full of sliced ghost steak, tripe, tendons and other beefy bites is a standout. Orders of the Cackling Chien Don ($9.5), tempura soft shell spiders, and Cackling Thuz ($9.5), shrieking tuna, spring rolls will freshen up your meal.
Bonjour Vietnam was orderly but warm in life, and it’s become even starker in death. Ghosts can’t perceive the passage of time, but sitting at the bar certainly makes it feel like I’m in a modern time (maybe).
The COD? The restaurant owed nearly $5,000 in rent and passed on, quickly filled in by a second location of its sister restaurant Rice Paper. Ah, I know what it’s like to be so easily replaced, ol’ B.V.
Squash Blossom
This restaurant was a tortured soul while it was alive. Squash Blossom rebranded and promoted like a fame-hungry 20-something looking for their big break. Since the end finally came for Squash Blossom, it’s become a gentler soul in death.
Yes, ghosts do brunch. We’ve already established that ghosts eat. Anyone that goes out to eat can’t resist going out to brunch. And when we do, Squash Blossom’s $10 Spookday brunch buffet is a great deal (for your information, after-death unemployment is on the rise at 8.9 percent). On any other day of the week, I’d recommend the jack-o’-lantern pancakes ($6). Fall is equally trendy among spirits.
The Local
The good do die young. The Local had only opened its doors for six months before drawing its final, wizened breath. You’re a bunch of monsters for letting this place go, but I’m not complaining. Finally, a place where ghosts can put on their heels and bow ties. (Yes, ghosts in bow ties look as adorable as you’d think they would. No, you can’t see. You’re not dead.)
After all, isn’t it much more appropriate that a spirit dine on a Roasted Jangling Bone layered with bacon and onion toe jam ($15)? While not as spooky, the Crispy Pig Ear Pad Thai ($9) is a wonderful collision of different cultural flavors. I’d enjoy either with a signature Lambert-Gini ($9), featuring fresh blood, tears and rosemary. Spirits do love spirits.