Service at Mai’s is like a circus: loud, fast, and argumentative (you might just be charged extra for a lemon wedge). Otherwise, it’s largely non-descript and blandly lit. Given that it’s open until 3am, however, it draws in an energetic restaurant-industry and post-bar crowd.

Late night virtues aside, Mai’s is solidly Vietnamese 101; the place you go when you don’t know much about the cuisine and want a simple introduction. Once you get the hang of it, you’ll move on to bigger, better, and more authentic places just down the road (literally). Here you’ll find all the basics, but they’re lifeless, dumbed-down versions. Seasoned pros need not apply.

Their biggest success is also the most basic: shrimp spring rolls. Generous portions of shrimp, mint, and vermicelli are tightly wrapped in pliant, thin rice paper and served with a concentrated peanut sauce. Bo luc lac is inconsistent—sometimes great, but sometimes dry and overcooked. Grilled pork is tasty. Huge portions of pho come with a watery, flavorless broth; if you must get it here, order it with fatty brisket to help flavor it up. Curries, like those with well-prepared shrimp or tofu, have a beautifully creamy texture to them, but no punch. Rice plates include an exceptionally dry pork chop, flavorless “Vietnamese quiche,” and need extra amounts of nuoc cham to save them. Noodle dishes are more acceptable, despite the tasteless sauce.

The one thing we’re really excited about is also the one thing we’re forbidden: in order to get the elusive #12 on the menu—chao huyet, a rice porridge with coagulated pig’s blood, the only one of the 177 menu items at Mai’s that’s not translated into English—you or your dining companion must be Vietnamese. In the past, apparently, too many non-Vietnamese people have sent it back, so now, they’re playing it safe. If you’re not Vietnamese, don’t even bother groveling, threatening a 14th-amendment lawsuit, or posing as an experienced huyet-lover. It won’t work. Instead, call up a Vietnamese friend and take him or her out to dinner.

Mai’s also caters to the guests who believe that every Asian restaurant is a Chinese restaurant, offering classic Chinese-American food like General Tso’s chicken and beef with broccoli. Happily, though, they spike some of it up a bit—the spicy beef and garlic is pretty tasty, with whole cloves of garlic roasted in their shells, so you can squeeze the cells of hot, nutty paste into your mouth one by one. Just don’t plan to get romantic later.