Feb 2009

Secrets of the Red Lantern – Pauline Nguyen

About: In this moving culinary account of her family’s immigration from their native Vietnam, restaurateur Nguyen of Sydney, Australia begins: “In my family, food is our language… when we cannot speak the words “I am sorry,” we give this bittersweet soup instead.” Luckily, Nguyen is also skilled in written language; her moving, honest and painful story follows her family’s dramatic exodus from their war-ravaged homeland to the safety of Australia. There, Nguyen’s parents opened the restaurant that would give Pauline and her brother Luke the foundation for their current enterprise, The Red Lantern, one of Sydney’s most popular dining destinations. Worth the price alone is Nguyen’s masterful storytelling, including a warts-and-all look at her family and the immigrant experience. The book’s arc is entirely film-ready; indeed, color images of people, places and dishes are striking. And then there’s the recipes: more than 275 traditional Vietnamese dishes, all relatively simple to prepare (though some might require some tenacious shopping). Nguyen’s wide net catches classic comfort food like Pho Bo Tai Nam, the traditional beef noodle soup, and slow-cooked pork shoulder; fish dishes like Crispy-Skin Snapper with Ginger and Lime Fish Sauce; easy appetizers like Tom Nuong (Soy and Honey Grilled Shrimp); and exotic fare like Durian Ice Cream. Whether you buy it for the story, recipes or both, this is an essential volume for those interested in Vietnamese cooking and culture. From Publishers Weekly.

My Thoughts: Oh, Pauline Nguyen, you totally owe me a brand new keyboard and a box of tissues because I laughed and cried up a storm while reading your memoir-cum-cookbook.

Food and family go hand in hand in Vietnamese culture, so it makes perfect sense that Nguyen combined them in one cohesive tome. What sets Secrets of the Red Lantern apart from other Vietnamese cookbooks on the market is Nguyen’s heart wrenching and uplifting memoir, which is told in a painfully honest voice. The foods and memories that Nguyen reflects upon in Secrets of the Red Lantern are so intimately intertwined that they each become more meaningful when placed in the proper context of her life. At times I found myself flipping quickly through the gorgeous photos and recipes just so that I could find out what happened next—Nguyen’s life is a literal page-turner.

In addition to sharing her personal trials and tribulations with readers, Nguyen is also generous with her family’s treasured recipes, including her father’s top-secret bo kho recipe that surprisingly calls for soda pop and Laughing Cow cheese. I appreciated how the book’s photographs successfully captured the warmth and rustic quality of homemade Vietnamese food.

As a whole, I found Secrets of the Red Lantern very inspiring. While reading this book, I was not only moved to whip up Vietnamese delights, but also to make time to sit down with my grandparents to record my family’s history and recipes. We’ll always have food, but time and memories are fleeting.

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Feb 2009

The Cupcakery – St. Louis

The transition from “trend” to “staple” is best illustrated by Uggs—a plush boot that’s easy on the feet and questionably easy on the eyes. Sometime during the fall of 2003, everyone and their mother, in cold climes and downright hot ones, started donning Ugg boots. Seemingly overnight, every gal from California to Maine was tucking her skinny jeans into a pair of chunky Uggs. Copycats emerged to compete with the Australian powerhouse, but the Ugg brand never lost its comfy edge. Six years later, Uggs are still as popular as ever—their unparalleled warmth and comfort have propelled them from uber-trendy footwear to wardrobe staples.

It’s unclear which direction the cupcake trend is headed, but I hope with all of my heart that cupcakes have Ugg-like staying power. While Los Angeles embraces Sprinkles and New York adores Magnolia, St. Louis has The Cupcakery. With its sparse and modern space, cute-as-can-be packaging, and toothachingly sweet creations, it is clear that The Cupcakery is applying the same successful formula as its East and West Coast counterparts.

During a short jaunt to St. Louis to visit my dear friend Wes, I found myself at The Cupcakery on more than one occasion. On our first visit, Wes picked out a Strawberries and Cream ($2.75) cupcake, while I indulged in a Gold Rush ($2.75). The skewed ratio of cake to frosting on the Gold Rush had me worried initially, but after one bite it was clear that the bakers here know what they’re doing. The classic yellow cake was moist and light, while the chocolate buttercream frosting was rich, thick, and sweet. A yellow cupcake with chocolate frosting is a benchmark for cupcakes in much the same way that the pizza Margherita is the benchmark for pizzas. The Cupcakery’s Gold Rush was phenomenal.

A couple of evenings later, Wes and I headed back to The Cupcakery for a post-dinner nightcap. This time around, Wes ordered a Confetti—vanilla buttercream with French vanilla cake, while I had a Raspberry Beret—raspberry buttercream with French vanilla cake with raspberry filling. The Raspberry Beret was so very sweet that my molars ached. I should’ve stuck with the tried and true Gold Rush.

What sets The Cupcakery apart from places like Magnolia and Sprinkles is their unapologetic use of trans-fats. You gotta love Midwestern sensibility.

The Cupcakery
28 Maryland Plaza
St Louis, MO 63108
Phone: 314-367-6111

Cupcakery: on Urbanspoon

Feb 2009

Lemon Bars

It’s funny how preparing a single recipe can often inspire a chain of additional dishes due to leftover ingredients. After baking the Raspberry Crumb Breakfast Bars for Valentine’s Day, I was left with four lemons without a use. I turned to the America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook for ideas and decided that this lemon-intensive Lemon Bar recipe would be perfect. The smooth and vibrant curd topping really makes these bars shine, and the shortbread crust is an outstanding accompaniment. Now, what to do with seven lonely egg whites?

For the crust

  • 1 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar, plus extra for dusting
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 stick unsalted butter, softened but still cool, cut into 1-inch pieces

For the lemon filling

  • 7 large egg yolks
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • 2/3 cup fresh lemon juice (4-5 lemons)
  • 1/4 cup grated lemon zest
  • 1/2 stick unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces
  • 3 tablespoons heavy cream

Make crust

Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and heat the oven to 350°F. Line a 9-inch square pan by folding two 16-inch pieces of foil lengthwise to measure 9 inches wide. Fit one sheet on the bottom of the pan, pushing it into the corners and up the sides (overhang will help in removal of baked bars). Fit the second sheet in the pan in the same manner, perpendicular to the first sheet. Spray the sheets with nonstick cooking spray.

Process the flour, confectioners’ sugar, and salt in a food processor until combined, 3 seconds. Add the butter and process to blend, 8 to 10 seconds, then process until the mixture is pale yellow and resembles coarse meal, about three 1-second pulses. Sprinkle the mixture into the prepared pan and press firmly with your fingers into an even layer over the entire pan bottom. Bake the crust until golden brown, about 20 minutes.

Make filling

While the crust is baking, whisk the yolks and whole eggs together in medium nonreactive saucepan. Add the granulated sugar and whisk until just combined. Add the lemon juice, zest, and pinch of salt; whisk until combined.

Add the butter pieces, and cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture thickens slightly and registers 170°F on an instant-read thermometer, about 5 minutes.

Immediately pour the curd through a single-mesh stainless steel strainer set over a clean non-reactive bowl. Stir in the heavy cream; pour the curd into the warm crust immediately.

Bake until the filling is shiny and opaque and the center jiggles slightly when shaken, 10 to 15 minutes.

Let cool completely on a wire rack, about 2 hours, before removing the bars from the pan using the foil and cutting into squares. Dust with confectioners’ sugar before serving.

Makes 16 bars.