There might be an eerie sense of déjà vu when you step into Mama Quach’s Kitchen in West Long Beach—and rightfully so. The Quach family is no stranger to the space: They previously ran the underrated Chinese gem that was Lucky Chopsticks, which closed earlier this year.
Now, they want to focus on their Vietnamese roots and, with it, offer Long Beach some of its best phở.
Mama Quach’s Kitchen brings Long Beach some of its finest phở.
With the downgrading of Pho Hong Phat in Zaferia with its new owners and a general it’s-fine-ness to the overall status of phở quality in Long Beach outside of Sesame Dinette, Mama Quach’s is a warm, warm welcome, especially for the Westside. (If phở is ever brought up in my food group, people are often told to just make the trek to Westminster.)
It’s a wonderfully rich broth for being so clean, and I deeply suggest tasting it before adding the standard sauces (including a wonderful, in-house chili oil). After all, we’re talking a recipe that has now been handed down to three generations of Vietnamese women, from mother to Hang Quach and now onto her daugher, Linn.
“Now it’s my turn to carry on that tradition and preserve the flavors that have been part of our family for generations,” Linn said. “At this point in her life, my mom should already be enjoying her retirement. But instead, she’s still standing beside me, working hard and supporting my dream.”
And yes, there some other options: a solid shaken beef, fried rice, even cheese fries for the kids… The phở is truly where the heart and soul of the space sits.
The reason behind the name of Mama Quach’s Kitchen…
There’s a joke you’ll often hear Mama Quach tell in Vietnamese: “Mẹ là người làm việc không lương nhưng cũng không bao giờ có đơn thôi việc.” It is roughly translated as: “I’m the employee who never gets paid, but somehow, I never get to submit my resignation either.”
While humorous, Linn is never one to dismiss her mother’s hard work. After all, that is precise why the space is named after her.
“Yes, the name represents our Quach family,” Linn said. “But more importantly, it represents the woman who has spent her whole life taking care of us. My mom is one of the hardest-working people I know. She truly loves cooking, and for her, food has always been an act of love. She puts her heart, patience, and care into everything she makes.”
Like many Vietnamese families, phở was never just a bowl of noodles for the Quachs; it was and remains a familial connector, a heritage-drawn anchor that bridged America and “back home.” And like a bowl of noodles from Phnom Penh Noodle Shack, a bowl of phở in the United States is a bowl of resilience, political divide, and the courage to take on a new home even when you didn’t want to leave the place you were born.
Phở becomes the anchor for a family trying to reestablish its connection to Long Beach…
“That’s why I chose her face as the logo of Mama Quach’s Kitchen,” Linn said. “I didn’t want just a beautiful logo or a design that would look good on a restaurant sign. I wanted people to see the real woman behind our food… Mama Quach’s Kitchen isn’t just a restaurant to me. It’s my way of saying thank you to my mom while sharing a piece of our family’s story with the Long Beach community.”
The space will be celebrating with a grand opening come Sunday, Oct. 25, from 1PM to 9PM. The first 100 guests can expect gifts and, most of all, to introduce themselves as patrons to a space worthy of having them.
“When people come to us, we don’t promise to serve the best phở in the world,” Linn humbly said. “We simply promise to prepare every bowl with care and love, just as my mom has always done for our family. Because what we truly want to share is something simple, and also our slogan: ‘A bowl of phở, a taste of home.”
Why Vietnamese spaces like Mama Quach’s Kitchen matter in Long Beach—or anywhere.
There is something wildly true about Vietnamese food in the United States: It remains remarkably stuck in the 1970s, clinging to a nostalgia for a no-longer-existing Saigon that refugees held onto after the Vietnam War. Surely, the shrinking world connections—flying to and from foreign countries has never been easier—have begun to alter that slightly, but, for the most part, Vietnamese food is really a quilt of myriad memories from refugees and immigrants who have passed it onto their children.
Mama Quach’s Kitchen is no less of an exception. After all, the wave of discrimination people of Asian descent faced in the U.S.—whether it was the first wave of Chinese immigrants during the turn of the 20th century, the internment of Japanese and Japanese-Americans during World War II (including right here in Long Beach), or toward later waves of Cambodian, Thai, and Vietnamese refugees—often forced these newly minted residents into the restaurant world in order to survive.
And for working-class Americans—immigrants and non-immigrants alike—these spaces provided hearty meals at a price point they could actually afford, often cheaper than cooking at home. Since the mid-20th century, these spaces have been stitched into the urban fabric of American life, especially in lower-income neighborhoods. They filled a unique niche: food that was fast, hot, and plentiful, but also flavored with spices and techniques that felt distinct from the blandness of mainstream American fare at the time. While fine dining was reserved for the wealthy, Asian restaurants democratized dining out. They made it possible for a factory worker, a single parent, or a group of students to gather around a table, order family-style dishes, and share in a communal experience that was both affordable and satisfying.
Mama Quach’s Kitchen is located at 1320 W. Willow St. They will host their grand opening on Sunday, Oct. 25, from 1PM to 9PM.
