If you want “authentic” nachos, Chili’s attempts an approximation. Triangles covered in cheese and then topped with jalapeno. Not the sports bar kind of nachos that’s just a pile of chips drenched in stuff.
They also serve fish and chips, but I don’t know how good/authentic they are, since I don’t like fish and chips.
This place does serve phở, and they did offer translations of all the dishes under the Vietnamese names. What confused me was that my dish - shrimp over noodles with shredded veggies - came with a bowl of a clear liquid. I had to ask the server what it was and I think he said fish oil and that it was to be poured over the bowl of food. His accent was pretty thick, so I may have misunderstood.
Oh, and on the receipt, it told me our server was Bart Simpson Thao. 
There is a Chinese restaurant in the foodcourt at the Mall that really fucks up their “Almond Chicken”. It has none of the grey, gelatinous gravy, the chicken is not encrusted with stale bread, and, worst of all, it has almonds in it. Might as well call it a stir-fry.
Fish oil is typically used as a dipping sauce in Vietnamese cuisine, but I can’t imagine that pouring it over your dinner would hurt it.
It’s not fish OIL, it’s fish sauce, “Nuoc mam pha”. It’s a mixture of fish sauce (fermented fish extract), lime juice, sugar, and often fresh chiles. it is insanely good and yes, you are supposed to pour it over your noodle dishes.
Bahn mi sandwiches are one of the two good things to come out of French colonialism in Vietnam (the other is cafe sua da - vietnamese dark-roast coffee, french dripped over sweetened condensed milk and ice) . A proper bahn mi should be on a french baguette roll, and contain at minimum a spread of pate, pickled carrots and daikon, and thinly sliced pork.
I had my first try of NZ fush & chups in Christchurch - all of the chippies their are run by Asians - and the selection of different fish you could choose from was something I’d not seen before. I also had white bait in Hokitika (delicious), $5 f&c in Nelson, and visited a burger place in Queenstown where you had to queue for 45 minutes (worth it, just about). We toured the South Island in a ute for three weeks - would love to go again.
The stuff I was served was clear, maybe with a slight yellow cast, and definitely no chiles in it. I probably committed a horrible culinary error, but I used a sweet sauce that was in a bottle on the table. I have no idea what it was, but it was tasty.
That seems to be a somewhat widespread, but regional, name for sloppy joes. We just call 'em Sloppy Joes up here, but I’m familiar with the term “barbecue sandwich” being used for sloppy joes, though I can’t remember exactly where. It must be somewhere here in the Midwest. (Also, “hot tamales” for Sloppy Joes. I think that one is from Sheboygan, Wisconsin.)
It was probably just plain fish sauce/nam pla/nuoc nam.
A few years ago a “Cajun food” place opened near us, and we tried it out for lunch.
It was a deal where you picked up your order at the counter, and a subtle hint as to authenticity came when the preparer dutifully shook a bunch of red chili pepper flakes over each order before giving them to us.
That there is how a spicy Cajun dish is prepared. :dubious:
*the order-taker instantly endeared himself to Mrs. J. by warning her (but not me) that the food was really spicy. The glare she gave him would have instantly transformed gumbo into a black, smoking dust.
Just to expand on that…
You need a Vietnamese coffee maker. et at least two. Put espresso-grind dark-roasted coffee in the maker. Put the filter thing on and screw it just until you feel resistance. (In reality, some Vietnamese places I’ve been to don’t bother screwing the thing on.) Put some sweetened condensed milk in a cup. Put the maker on top of the cup. Fill the maker with boiling water and put on the lid. Wait. Now wait some more. No, longer than that. It should take at least 10 minutes. When all of the water has dripped out of the maker and the grounds have given up all they’re going to, remove the lid and set it upside-down on the table. Set the maker on top of the lid. Stir the coffee and sweetened condensed milk. Pour into a tall glass of ice. Oh, yummy.
Yes, it was fish sauce. Jut pour it over your noodles (‘bún’) or rice ('cam") after you’ve torn up all of the foliage and put it onto the food.
Here is an article on vietnamese food. One dish you won’t want to pass up is bánh xèo.
Here’s what I learned from my years in Saigon. (OK, Little Saigon. In Garden Grove, CA. And I actually worked in Orange. But close enough. 
) According to my several Vietnamese coworkers, you decide what you want to eat, and then go to the restaurant that makes it best. If you wanted bánh xèo, you’d go to one place. If you wanted cơm tay cầm, you’d go to a different place. And so on. Not that all of the dishes weren’t delicious, but if you wanted a certain dish you’d go to the place that specialises in it. Where I live now, I don’t really have a choice. Near where our office used to be in Seattle, there was one place I went to for phở or bánh xèo, another place for bún đặc biệt (‘Boondock byet’ 
cold noodles with ‘everything’ – ‘đặc biệt’ means ‘special’ or ‘house special’, and it’s how I got my phở too), and different place for bánh mì.
