Mi Mi Café
I'd almost like to keep this to myself in the interest of selfishness, but I'd like to see Mi Mi café succeed and stay around for a long time, so I guess I'll let you in: I have found the best Vietnamese sandwich in Columbus. In an unassuming strip mall with a bowling alley and no fewer than 3 Asian restaurants on Columbus' Northeast side sits Mi Mi Café. I thought at first it was a coffee shop, but after reading about it somewhere, I knew I had to try it out, being a huge fan of the Vietnamese sandwich, and all things Vietnamese. Except cilantro, but my love of Vietnamese food must overpower my cilantro aversion every once in awhile, and, when properly used (as a foil to spice), I don't loathe it as much as I do when it's sprinkled on everything like it were something nice, like basil. But I digress.
Mi Mi Café is clean and filled with natural light; some effort has been made to make it more attractive than the typical Asian quick-service joint, and there is a long bar where one can sit and watch the food being prepared. Don't expect a large menu: on our visit, 3 dishes were being offered, and we took all three. The menu contains 6 items in all, but 3 are usually reserved for the weekends, when the owners wife comes in to join him in the kitchen.
The first thing I will say about Mi Mi is the service was earnest and quick - the owner served us and cooked our lunch, and he was the sweetest man, even complimenting our knowledge of chopstick usage and constantly asking if we were happy. He charmingly set everything down on the table saying things like "you will eat my sandwich first, it is very good."
It was a little early for lunch when we arrived, and we started things off with Vietnamese Iced Coffee, an addictive blend of strong but mellowly roasted drip coffee stirred with ice and sweetened condensed milk. Not necessarily the healthiest way to start the day, but good if you have to drink your morning coffee on an empty stomach.
The Banh Mi arrived first, and was served on a wonderfully crusty (but not dense and chewy) French bread which was generously smeared with mayo and a true, liver-y tasting liver Vietnamese pate. Piled on top were pork slice, cilantro, pickled cucumbers, carrots and jalapeno. The sandwich was a perfect blend of rich, sour, savory and spicy - generous amounts of black pepper made the pate intriguingly hot without going overboard.
Next up, Banh Canh, a bowl of rich, slightly spicy, meat broth loaded with soft, udon-like noodles and filled with meats of all sorts. It was kind of like a Vietnamese version of Nabeyaki Udon with spice and a heavier broth. It contained dried shrimp, bits of real crab, fried fish patties, tender little black mushrooms, and a chunk of pork neck. I sighed at our white bread American inability to pick through the savory bits of goodness (and cartilage, bone and skin) on the pork hunk, but I'm just not Asian enough for negotiating scary bits. One day. One day I'll even order the beef tendon at General Tso's restaurant on the Northwest side, I promise. I had a college roommate who was Chinese, spoke 5 languages and taught me to love sticky rice (before that I thought rice should come from a box, and that every long grain should be perfectly separated, and covered in butter) and the beauty of the rice cooker which ensured no matter how terrible the cafeteria food was, we would always have rice in our dorm. She tried to teach me the ability to place an entire piece of bone-in meat in one's mouth and extract the bone only, crunching through connective tissue, scraping the end caps of the bone for their meaty goodness, "It's the best part!" she would say. One day.
The Banh Canh, with its rich broth and chewy noodles, would be the perfect prescription for a cold, rainy or snowy day. We have a lot of those coming up here in Central Ohio, so I foresee eating a few more bowls of it before Spring arrives. Again here, the broth was heavily seasoned with black pepper - common in traditional Vietnamese cooking, but sometimes lost in American interpretations. 
Our last dish was Banh Cuon, a pounded rice crepe which is steamed (similar to the banh xeo I had at Ha Long Bay, minus the turmeric coloring and steamed instead of fried) and filled with ground pork. The crepes are sliced and topped with pork patties, bean sprouts, cucumbers, basil and fried onions and garlic, with "fish vinaigrette" (aka Nuoc Cham, a sour blend of vinegar and fish sauce, this one with chilies), which the owner stated "you have to put the sauce over. This is fish sauce, everyone here is Vietnamese. We love this sauce. It's our favorite sauce. You'll like it. It is very good." I loved his assertion as he gave us dish after dish that everything was very good. It was. The Banh Cuon was rich without being overwhelming. The texture of the crepe, slightly chewy, might take some getting used to for some folks, and even I have to admit I like the fried version a little better (what isn't better fried), but this was wholesome, savory, a little hot and sour with the addition of the fish sauce, and with a lovely hit of toasty garlic from the fried garlic chips which decorated the dish. Besides all of that, it was filled with pork, which is always nice.
Mi Mi café is a really great meal. I will have to venture out for the wife's cooking some weekend, when Bo Kho - beef stew with french bread and Hu Tie Ga - Chicken broth with noodles and shredded chicken, are offered. Also on the menu is a large assortment of bubble tea, including taro and cappuccino flavors. I think I could eat the sandwiches 2-3 times a week without tiring of them, and this isn't to say that I have lost my love for the Vietnamese sandwiches at Lac Viet - I haven't, it's just that the sandwiches at Mi Mi are different, and I love that their pate is strong with livery goodness. Lunch tab for 2 coffees and the 3 dishes was $22.
Info: Mi Mi Café 5858 Columbus Square, in the Columbus Square Shopping Center (yes, where the Bowling Palace is located) at the corner of Cleveland Ave and E. Dublin-Granville Rd. 614.899.9202.
Of related interest: To read about Lac Viet, click here. To read about Ha Long Bay, click here and here.
