Product Description

"In my family, food is our language. Food enables us to communicate the things we find so hard to say." --Pauline Nguyen

Overflowing with sumptuous but simply prepared dishes that have been passed down through generations of the Nguyen family, Secrets of the Red Lantern is part Vietnamese cookbook and part family memoir.

More than 275 traditional Vietnamese recipes are presented alongside a visual narrative of food and family photographs that follows the family's escape from war-torn Vietnam to the successful founding of the Red Lantern restaurant.

At the heart of each recipe is the power of food to elevate and transform. From a recipe of cari de that sparks a memory to the distinctly bitter melon soup that says, "I'm sorry," Secrets of the Red Lantern shares the rich culinary heritage of the Nguyen family and their personal story of reconciliation and success.

Recipes like Bun Rieu (Crab and Tomato Soup with Vermicelli Noodles), Goi Du Du (Green Papaya Salad with Prawns and Pork), and Che Khoai Mon (Black Sticky Rice with Taro), unlock the family's secrets and see the family persevere through homesickness, heartache, and the upheavals of change to finally experience growth and celebration. The result is a beautiful journey through Vietnamese history, culture, and tradition.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #192749 in Books
• Published on: 2008-08-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 344 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Starred Review. 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.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Review
275 traditional recipes...are almost a sidebar to the compelling story of escape, refugee camps and reconciliation. --Atlanta Journal Constitution

A beautiful journey through Vietnamese history, culture, and tradition that cooks everywhere will embrace. --Globalgourmet.com

A beautiful, poignant book. Through memoir and with stunning recipes, Nguyen details her path from Vietnam to...her restaurant in Australia. --Minneapolis Star Tribune

Pauline Nguyen translates the pure, clean, exotic flavors of her native food into simple recipes for the Western kitchen. --Hartford Courant

Pho-nomenal...astonishing. Pauline Nguyen has combined a book full of classic, meticulous Vietnamese recipes with a powerful personal memoir. --National Public Radio

Secrets of the Red Lantern by Pauline Nguyen has been chosen by NPR food writer Susie Chang as one of the Best Cookbooks of 2008 --NPR.org

Whether you want amazingly accessible Vietnamese recipes or just a good, honest family story with food, this Sydney restaurateur delivers. --Epicurious.com

About the Author
Pauline Nguyen and recipe writers Luke Nguyen and Mark Jensen are the proprietors of the respected Red Lantern restaurant. They live in Sydney, Australia.

Customer Reviews

Gorgeous, but not a happy book
I acquired my first cookbook at the age of 7 and have been collecting them ever since. I particularly love ethnic cuisine and cookbooks of the family memory sort, so when I saw Pauline Nguyen's Secrets of the Red Lantern I was delighted. And make no mistake, this is a book that I will treasure - if for no other reason than that it is easily the single most beautiful cookbook that I've ever seen. So beautiful I would not dare to take it into the kitchen to actually cook with it.

But then, even were the book not almost too beautiful, I am not sure that I could take it into the kitchen to cook with it - at least not with ease. Nguyen has organized the recipes in her book around various time periods in her autobiographical tale rather than the more traditional salads, meats and desserts categorizations one might expect to find. If you are not very familiar with Vietnamese food in general and this book in particular, just finding the recipes that you want to try can be a daunting task.

There are several other difficulties that will be of importance to most cooks. The book was written in Australia and the recipes tested using Australian measurements. You'll find a note in the front of the book near the copyright notice warning you about the difference between an Australian tablespoon and an American tablespoon. It would seem to me that there are few enough recipes where this becomes an issue that the authors/publishers could have easily performed the conversions and edited the two or three pages for the American market just as they did the copyright page. American measuring spoons are, after all, readily available on the Internet.

Unless you live quite near a largish Asian community, many of these recipes call for herbs that you will not find easily. Because we love to cook and enjoy foods from many different cultures, we happen to have a spice collection that goes far beyond what most grocery stores offer, as well as an extensive fresh herb garden. Even so, Nguyen threw me a real curve ball with "rice paddy herb." I would have really appreciated a picture of that. She does provide the Vietnamese name of the herb, but my go-to source for Asian produce does not speak Vietnamese. And neither do I. I would also have really appreciated a pronunciation guide.

As my homeschoolers will tell you, I am a firm adherent of Brillat-Savarin's principle "tell me what you eat and I'll tell you who you are." You cannot obtain an understanding of history or culture without an understanding of the food. Any idea the reader might entertain that this book is about Vietnamese culture, however, would be far from accurate.

Any suggestions as to what might go well with what or what dishes might constitute an entire meal together are completely lacking. Nguyen tells us several times that her mother & father liked to throw parties where they invited so many people that they set up a buffet on the floor, and yet she never gives us a hint what foods might have been served. She mentions that her parents took but one day off a year - Lunar New Year - but never enlightens us as to what foods might have been served or customs followed on that day.

What Pamela Nguyen does give us in the prose that constitutes some half of the book is a tale of abuse and discord between father and daughter that many women of every culture will recognize immediately - and greatly sympathize with. It is essentially a catharsis, a very personal story, at least for the daughter. I cannot help but feel, however, that this story would have been better told separately. The juxtaposition of the daughter's hatred and anguish with the release of the father's treasured recipes is jarring to say the least, in a way that to me feels more like revenge than anything else. This is not a happy book

Gorgeous, tasty, fascinating
First off, this is one of the most beautiful cookbooks you will see. The artwork, photography, and layout are elegant and appealing. Fortunately, the contents live up to the presentation. The book is a combination biography of an immigrant family and cookbook and both sections are worthy. Nguyen tells the story of her family's journey from post-war Vietnam to Australia, with both the highs and the painful lows covered with grace and power. The recipes come from Nguyen's parents as well as her restaurant. So far, all of the recipes I have tried are excellent: clean, complex flavors and well-tested instructions. I wish I lived in a location more conducive to a cuisine based on fresh seafood, tropical herbs, and varied produce, but I have been able to achieve great results with substitutions from the local grocery store and a trip or two to the Asian market. I highly recommend this book.

A rare privilege.
Before we get to the incredibly intimate biography of Ms. Ngyuen, bear in mind that as I write this, I'm sipping -- no, gulping -- my second batch in the last ten days of Pork and Watercress Soup (p.65). So simple, so good -- the first made with my own homemade chicken broth, the second with a supermarket broth. Of course, the homemade broth is the winner, but don't let that stop you from this incredibly easy, delicious soup. Two suggestions: First, do the skimming before adding any seasonings; second, grind your own pork if you have a food processor. I just realized that, in my long life, I have never bought supermarket ground pork -- those curlicues -- ugh!

And before I continue with the recipes, I must tell you that I found the autobiographical section remarkable, informative and, in the end, quite uplifting. The author's tale of her life's journey is almost embarrassing in its honesty. She relates a story of incredible hardship and sorrow that we here in America seldom, if ever, have experienced. I feel privileged that she shared her story with me. Here's looking at you, kid!

Okay; back to the recipes. The caramelized white perch (p.95) would have been delicious had I had decent fish. So should I recommend it as a way to dress up something basically awful? No; it's such an easy method and so good that one should honor it with a really fresh fish.

The third recipe I tried was the shrimp with tomato, fish sauce and black pepper (p.60). In spite of the frozen supermarket shrimp I used (I know -- and I agree) it was so good that I ate one and a half portions at dinner, and could hardly wait to eat the leftovers the next day for lunch.

I have marked eight recipes to try in the future. I know they will be good.

I must mention, despite the Australian vs. U.S. measurements hullabaloo in previous reviews, let's remember this is not rocket science. We're not talking about the precise measurements essential to baked goods. It was obvious when I looked at the amount of broth specified in the watercress soup that half of that large bunch I had purchased was an appropriate "handful."

Ms. Nguyen, once again, as an American reader, I thank you for sharing this remarkable book with us.