Behind a deceptively industrial garage door, the younger set of the Village frequently crowds this lively, contemporary Vietnamese choice in a diner-like setting with an open kitchen. House-recipe cocktails, whiskys, and comfort food are served in a single boisterous room not much bigger than a storefront (reserve ahead if you can, or cross you fingers to snag a spot for dinner at the bar). The menu, which could be interpreted as tapas-style if you have a group, leans away from pho soups and toward hearty, well-cooked meats such as beef carpaccio, spice-braised pork ribs, cherrystone-sautéed coconut-and-turmeric clams, and (for the intrepid and indefatigably authentic), aged balut eggs. It's one of those places where the simple descriptions on the menu ("green papaya salad—beef jerky"—a highlight, incidentally) give little sense of the rich and addictive flavors contained therein, and where the casual quarters belie the sophistication of the cooking.