"The Little Saigon Cookbook: Vietnamese Cuisine and Culture in Southern California's Little Saigon"
By Ann Lee
Photography by Julie Fay Insiders' Guide -- 2006 Buy it on Amazon
Though exotic cuisines may be daunting endeavors for many cooks due to foreign and sometimes costly ingredients, "The Little Saigon Cookbook" is a clear, straightforward cookbook that sheds light on the culture while making its cuisine approachable and delectable.
Interspersed with interesting stories about Vietnamese culture and traditions, the book is a well-thought out tribute to Vietnamese foodways -- with delicious recipes to boot, ranging from the obvious dishes to lesser-known exciting ones like the Shaking Beef Salad with Watercress and Tomatoes or Pork Braised in Caramel Sauce.
See what we tested and find out whether the book's worth buying after the jump.
Dacascos and his suggestive brows.
Photo: Food Network.
It took a transpacific flight, but finally last night, "The Next Iron Chef" deviated from its status as a "Top Chef" also-ran and finally started getting ... weird. Or maybe it was just the goofy opening montage of our four remaining cheftestants standing in the busy rain-slicked streets of Tokyo, crossing their arms in slo-mo and acting all alpha-dog dominant.
In any event, the show is finally getting down to its high-stakes, high-drama Japanese roots after an extended period of trumped-up, low-stakes challenges in Los Angeles. Our trio of alternately grumpy and spunky judges have come along for the ride, and eyebrow-cocking "Chairman" Marc Dacascos is no longer beamed in via satellite to bark oblique commands to the chefs -- now he can do so in person!
This week's mission was the pursuit of umami, the Japanese concept of a so-called fifth flavor -- something beyond savory -- that seems to be everywhere these days. The word was mentioned about a zillion times in the course of last night's episode, and -- surprise! -- it just happens to be the current marketing catchphrase of "TNIC" sponsor Kikkoman, whose umpteen varieties of soy sauce were littered around the challenge kitchen. The umami theme also allowed host Alton Brown a moment to do what he does best: Explain all the geeky details of how soy sauce is made.
That food chemistry lesson out of the way, it was up to our remaining pro chefs to get down to the flavor at hand, a challenge made all the more confusing in the Hattori Nutrition College kitchen, replete with weird can openers, stoves operating in celcius and ice cream makers that seemed to deep-freeze their wares to a glacier-like consistency. Asked to fill five spots of a bento box each with a different rice-based dish, the foursome didn't need to engage in the usual reality-show sabotage -- the people who arranged the kitchen seemed to do that for them.
Forget Godzilla. Beginning Thursday, Burger King fans in Japan can get a mega-sized Whopper.
Microsoft is teaming up with Burger King to release the Windows 7 Whopper, our sister site Engadget reports. The burger features lucky-number-seven stacked beef patties and stands 5-inches tall.
Keeping with the seven theme, the sandwich will sell at 777 yen (or approximately $8.50) to the first 30 customers and will be available for seven days. For customer No. 31 and beyond, the tower-o-meat will sell for 1,450 yen -- almost double the promotional cost.
Expat foodies have been known to sniff out American favorites in every corner of the world, whether it's bagels, burgers or cupcakes. According to a review we read, even in China, it looks like a seriously good American burger can be had at Bistro Burger. Made from 100-percent Angus beef, imported from the States and ground on the premises, this Shanghai burger has the potential to be better than most you'd get in the U.S. We don't know what the meat to fat ratio is, but we'd be willing to try them regardless.
In addition to ordering a variety of international themed burgers, homesick visitors and expats can take advantage of the restaurant's October promotion, where they can "get a free milkshake with any burger." Apparently, authentic milkshakes are a big deal in these parts, due to the fact that many are made with ultrapasteurized or nonperishable milk, whereas Bistro Burger uses the fresh stuff.
The review also raves about the eatery's chili cheese fries, pronouncing them the "best" in Shanghai, as well as homemade apple pie packed with honest-to-goodness imported U.S. apples and Brooklyn beer. Who says you can't find the comforts of home halfway round the world?
McCurry restaurant owner A.M.S.P. Suppiah and his wife. Photo: Mark Baker/AP
In a fast-food version of David versus Goliath, the owner of a small curry restaurant in Malaysia has won the final bout in an eight-year trademark battle against the world's largest fast-food giant, McDonald's.
The restaurant facing the suit operates under the name McCurry, short for "Malaysian Chicken Curry," and was the first Indian fast food restaurant to open in 1999 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia -- serving dishes such as chicken curry, fish head curry, naan and biryani.
McDonald's wanted sole rights to the use of the prefix "Mc" to protect its brand image but the Federal Court ruled Tuesday that the fast-food chain had no such exclusive rights.
When a Malaysian night club was busted and 32-year-old Kartika Sari Dewi Shukarno was caught with a beer, she knew she was in trouble. Not because alcohol is illegal in the country -- it's not -- but because Kartika is a Muslim.
Under Sharia law -- which regulates the day-to-day life of Muslims, including politics, business, sexuality and hygiene -- consuming alcohol is a major offense. Though non-Muslim in Malaysia would be prosecuted under civil law, Kartika had to face Islamic courts.
"I accept the punishment," she said, according to a Daily Telegraph report. "I am not afraid because I was ready to be punished from day one. [The authorities] hope to use my case as a way to educate Muslims. So go ahead. I want to move on with my life."
Few of us want to make a complicated lasagna for solo dining -- by day six, you'll never want to see lasagna again! In this feature, AOL Food intern Sarah LeTrent taste-tests simple recipes suitable for those requiring a "table for one."
"What's for dinner?" Those of us flying solo find ourselves at the mercy of this painstakingly simple question every evening. The problem is finding the time, money and energy to cook something that will truly satisfy those hunger pangs.
Bibimbap is a popular Korean dish suitable for solo dining on rainy summer evenings. Its translation is literally "mixed rice." Tossed together just before serving, the dish might include carrots, mushrooms, mung bean sprouts, chili paste, sesame seeds or oil -- really anything your heart desires. This diner is fond of adding a fried egg -- the cherry on top of the sundae, as it were.
It's practically impossible for me to decide what I like best about this video: The fact that it features both clothcoffeefilters (sustainable!) and a handcoffeegrinder (retro!), that the robot appears to let the coffee bloom before starting the proper brew, our little friend's deadpan expression, or the two-second outtake where the poor gal pours coffee all over the counter before a set of friendly human hands sets it right.
Actually, this little automated lady looks like she seriously knows what she's doing -- storing coffee in an air-tight container, grinding fresh, making coffee to order... She's a barista-bot after my own heart -- even if she's more likely to rust than over-caffeinate.
In this weekly series, home cook Bruce Watson works his way through a decades-old family cookbook, adapting the best recipes exclusively for Slashfood.
Over the last few years, Korean barbecue has gained fresh relevance in the United States. Whether served on hot dog buns in Manhattan, tortillas in Los Angeles or rice in Korean restaurants around the country, the sweet, oniony flavors of bulgoki, japchae and galbi are incredibly delicious and increasingly popular.
When I was a kid, bulgoki (also spelled bulgogi, pulgoki, pulgogi and any number of other ways) was a staple in my house. My parents, who lived in Korea before I was born, loved the stuff and would cook it on an electric griddle at our dinner table. As my sisters and I got older, we got involved in the fun; some of my first cooking experiences involved flipping bulgoki with a pair of bamboo tongs.
I've played with amounts and ingredients, but my mother's basic bulgoki recipe is fantastic. In fact, my only major change is in the dipping sauce: while my parents used light soy sauce with a sprinkle of pepper, I prefer a more traditional garlic/vinegar sauce, which I've included below. Get the recipe for bulgoki after the jump.
Strawberry milkshakes and juice boxes shaped like fruit: Two things that make us grateful for April heat waves.
Food & Wine's own Dana Cowin alerted us to this luscious milkshake on the Saveur Web site, accompanied by a recipe that calls for an ingenious combination of strawberry ice cream, strawberry sorbet and strawberry jam.
The juice boxes, meanwhile, are the brilliant invention of Naoto Fukasawa, a Japanese industrial designer who designed the boxes to mimic the look and texture of the fruit they contain: pictured here are banana and strawberry, along with soy, which rather uncannily mimics a block of tofu. We can't help but feel that these boxes blow the Capri Suns of our elementary school days out of the water, or at least the sandbox.
It's official: The wine world is truly global. First growth Bordeaux estate Chateau Lafite is developing vineyards in China, according to a Decanter magazine exclusive.
When the French began planting vines in California, we felt validated. Then some of them moved into Chile and Argentina, and they probably felt validated. But China? It seems as if the last frontier has finally been conquered.
I blogged my doubts about Chinese wine during the Olympics last summer, and Marc at China Wine Tours was quick to say there's good wine there -- you just have to find it. Just a guess, but I'm thinking if anyone can make world-class wine in China, Lafite is at the top of that list.
Eating pork buns (cha siu baau) is an excellent way to get a taste of New York's Chinatown. These warm buns -- either steamed or baked -- are full of savory barbecue meats, sometimes with scallions.
Last weekend, a friend and I decided we would eat our way through Chinatown by trying pork buns at various bakeries. And, what started out as a "pork bun journey" turned into an exploration of both savory and sweet buns, ranging from pork to red bean.
Fay Da Bakery, at 83 Mott St., has a variety of buns that you can select yourself with tongs when you enter the shop. While being underwhelmed by their pork buns, we were blown away with their sweet topping red-bean bun. The outside of the red-bean bun is coated in a flaky layer of sugar that balances marvelously with the doughy bun and the creamy red-bean paste.
Head directly to the Golden Fung Wong Bakery, at 41 Mott St., to try some of the best pork buns in Manhattan's Chinatown. Chunks of pork are flavored with a delicious mix of soy and oyster sauce. This bakery also sells an assortment of rice cakes and melon cakes that are worth trying.
"Bloody poop" anyone? The toilet aesthetic is nothing new in Asian restaurants. We have a post, from a few years back, about a toilet-themed restaurant where people actually sit on toilets at a table. Recently, Time magazine had an article about a Taiwanese restaurant chain that's opening up restaurants in China and other parts of Asia. Modern Toilet serves dishes, with names like "green dysentery," in toilet-shaped plates. Food is presented in the shape of excrement.
Modern Toilet interestingly combines the vulgar, the obscene, the scatological with the high-end. As the Time article states: "Every customer sits on a stylish acrylic toilet (lid down) designed with images of roses, seashells or Renaissance paintings." In this way, the restaurant is enticing patrons and receiving positive feedback. Jennifer Finch, an American who dined there, described the experience as tasteful and clean.
The cuisine is an eclectic mix of Asian foods, including curries, pasta, fried chicken and Mongolian hot pot. Patrons comment that despite the disgusting descriptions, the foods are great. Apparently, China's comfort with (and interest in) toilet creations beyond the bathroom are not new. Time points out that a flush toilet was found in a tomb of a Western Han Dynasty (206 B.C. to A.D. 24) king. The Chinese invented toilet paper in the 6th century! But, while toilet dining may be less shocking in Chinese culture, Westerners seem to be gravitating to these restaurants as well.
I typically use recipes in one of two ways. In the best case scenario, I consult a recipe before I shop so that even if I choose to tweak things a bit, I'm at least starting with all the appropriate raw materials. But then there are those evenings when it's chilly outside or I'm just feeling too lazy to shop, and I need a recipe that makes use of whatever's in the fridge, freezer, and pantry.
Last night was the second scenario. I had a pack of chicken thighs thawing but no plan for them. At first I printed out a recipe for chicken divan, knowing full well that I would have to substitute 2-percent milk for the cream and whole milk. Then I realized that I'd accidentally bought bone-in thighs. The thought of carving up chicken thighs to make a casserole sounded like a major pain. I remembered a recent charmed encounter with lamb biryani takeout, so I looked up some recipes for a chicken version online.
Most had a laundry list of ingredients, but then I found a very simple preparation on Mark Bittman's blog, Bitten. I still didn't have everything on the list: no fresh ginger, no saffron, no basmati. His recipe calls for a whole cut-up chicken; I figured the thighs would substitute nicely.
I added some curry powder in place of the missing spices, and threw in a pinch of fragrant dried spearmint leaves. I think whole cardamom pods are probably pretty integral to biryani (though I think the ten he calls for is a few too many), but then again, saffron and basmati probably are, too. The point is that you can work with the spices, and the kind of rice, and the cuts of chicken you have, and this ambrosial casserole will warm you right up.
I've never been the type to insist that no two foods on my plate touch each other. Whether it's pancake syrup leaking onto the bacon or cornbread crumbs in my turnip greens, I love for the mingling of ingredients to continue even after the cooking ends. Yet all my life, I ate each piece on a kebab separately. I just didn't know better--until last summer.
At a tiny, unassuming restaurant called Çiya Kebap near the Asian banks of Istanbul, a knowing waiter, kindly sensing our ignorance, took a few moments to show my mother and me how a kebab ought to be eaten. He'd just set before us a tantalizing skewer of ground lamb, charred eggplant and red onion, nearly liquid tomato, and sweet-hot chili--but in less than a minute, he mashed everything together so thoroughly that the components were hardly recognizable. Then he sprinkled a spice blend called baharat over all of it and instructed us (nonverbally, since we couldn't speak the same language) to mop up portions of the mash with the paper-thin flatbread stacked alongside.
Turns out Çiya Kebap, along with two other Çiya restaurants with different menus located just steps away, is world famous. If I'd eaten my kebab in my usual manner, I wouldn't have any clue what the fuss was all about. Instead, I experienced some of the most revelatory mouthfuls in recent memory. The splendor of the combined flavors would be impossible to exaggerate, even with words like "symphony" and "revelation."
Of course, a kebab anywhere, not just in Istanbul, would benefit from such intervention. The key is to glob everything together. Don't be too dainty about it, and don't worry about appearances. Just enjoy the big sloppy mess, and spread the word.