One of the best things about our fixation with stuffing out faces is how affordable it has become.

It’s hard to fathom the grim reality just a few years ago when cheap usually meant awful. Without dwelling too much on the horrors of soggy broccoli quiche or Chinese style chicken baguettes, there’s been a collective leap forward. Eaters demand quality and variety, and restaurants realise treating customers like mugs is not a viable long-term business plan.

For all its gimmickry the street food scene has a lot to be thanked for, bringing a world market’s worth of variety to our city centres. Falafel, thalis, ramen and BBQ are all commonplace know, but they all add up to embarrassment of riches every time we get that grumbling feeling.

Another national dish which has become something of a world wide hit is pho - Vietnamese noodle soup - which can be found in the casual surrounds of Milk No Sugar.

As an artisan coffee shop it does have one or two rivals vying for attention in the North Laine area, though its credentials are strong going by the AeroPress behind the counter.

Vietnamese coffee has its own French colonial influence, iced coffee made with sweet condensed mile and ice giving a triple mainline of caffeine, sugar and refreshment. Tempting though that sounds, it’s not coffee we come to Milk and Sugar for, but the pho.

And while there are no doubt grander verisons around, Milk No Sugar’s pho has lots to love.

A lot of the greatness of the dish is its modesty – simply a bowl of noodles, broth, meat and vegetables.

But behind it all is fantastic delicacy. The gently humming, clarified beef broth feels teeming with nutrients and goodness from the bones that made it. Glassy rice noodles sway in the liquid like pond reeds. Tears of chicken breast made soft in the simmering sponge up the complex flavours. Inside flecks of spring onion, bean sprouts, red chilli and coriander, a squirt of fresh lime juice tarting the whole thing up. It’s a fragrant bowl of comforting goodness that walks between subtlety and punch.

The Gourmand isn’t one to get all giddy and whitter on about the latest health faddery, but it’s hard to think of a single thing in the bowl which is unhealthy. There’s nay a drop of noticeable oil or fat, it’s not over-seasoned, and the meat is kept to a minimum – a contributing ingredient rather than a dominant. It all feels incredibly light, fresh and clean. One could devour a bulbous bowlful - and the do come in extra large - and cheerily go about an afternoon's errands.

There is also Vietnamese salad on the menu, a rainbow burst of julienne cut vegetables bathed in a hot, sweet and sour peanut dressing - a tropical mouth party to loosen up the most winter worn spirits. The summer rolls had more of the same mountain waterfall freshness, with shredded veg delicately wrapped and bound round fresh prawns - just about as rejuvenating as you can fathom on a dreary January evening.

It’s fair to say not a lot of investment has gone into the interior, which is basically fitted, the ceiling literally a block pattern of bare industrial concrete. The tables and chairs are straightforward and the café is not exactly cosy. But it is hardly pretending to be, and it is more than made up for by the warming qualities of the pho. Though cool in temperature, it's also cool in atmosphere, house music playing, and iPad glaring hipsters dotted about. And the staff and young Vietnamese man running the place are incredibly genial and helpful in explaining the menu.

There’s no alcohol on sale, but you can BYOB, with the beer drinkers’ emporium Trafalgar Wines very nearby.

With a bowl of pho starting below a fiver, you might start to seriously question the economics of ever cooking at home again.