| Title | : | Smoke and Pickles: Recipes and Stories from a New Southern Kitchen |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 1579654924 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9781579654924 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Hardcover |
| Number of Pages | : | 304 |
| Publication | : | First published May 1, 2013 |
Smoke and Pickles: Recipes and Stories from a New Southern Kitchen Reviews
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On of the ways I am like my mother is that I can and do read cookbooks like some folks read novels. In the modern era, cookbook publishers seem to cater to readers more and more. I'm not sure which I enjoyed more, Lee's stories or his recipes.
I am a native Kentuckian who can debate horses, bar-b-que and bourbon all day. I have only recently discovered Korean food. What makes this cookbook special is how Lee finds and explores similarities in Korean and Kentucky culture. There are several recipes I plan to try. More than anything, I want to make the drive to Louisville to eat his food. -
I recently stumbled upon an interesting cooking site, food52 [
https://food52.com/], which features an even more interesting cookbook competition, “The Piglet.” It is admittedly subjective, paring two books to be reviewed by a well-known food personality/chef. The winner goes on with another to be reviewed again by another judge until there is a single winner.
While some of the reviewers toss off their task with little effort, others write prose that is positively lyrical.
I found this:
https://food52.com/the-piglet/judgmen... a review by the Korean/Brooklyn-born/Southern-living (Louisville) chef Edward Lee.
I had never heard of Lee, chef-proprietor of Magnolia, but as I read I was stunned by the beauty of his writing. I bookmarked the site for when I had time to learn more. I discovered that he had fared well in the previous year’s “The Piglet” with his own volume, Smoke and Pickles: Recipes and Stories from a New Southern Kitchen, making it to the semi-final round.
Here is Edward Lee from the Preface of Smoke and Pickles:
'What do you cook?'
It’s a question I get asked all the time. There’s the short answer and there’s the long answer. The short one’s easy: I reach for labels like Farm to Table, Field to Fork, Soil to Mouth, Local-Global, New Asian, New Southern, New Anything…I might show photos of my garden in full bloom, woven baskets of fruits and vegetables with a smattering of soil still clinging to the edges, or a handful of the heirloom seeds I’ve collected over the years. I offer a belabored speech about local farms and ingredients at the peak of freshness. It’s not insincere, but it’s rehearsed. The simplest questions are the most difficult to answer, because lurking just behind those innocent words is a more complex response. This book is the long answer. What I cook is who I am.
Browsing through reviews, I sensed that I would not cook in Edward Lee’s style and didn’t want to shell out the bucks for it, so I borrowed Smoke & Pickles from our town library. Reading it cover to cover, I reveled in the stories he told about his upbringing in a Korean home in Brooklyn, how he and his sister sneaked away from the garment factory where their parents worked to indulge in their favorite gastronomic delight, gyros; of his teen year misadventures; his “lowdown” on bourbon ("I never met a bourbon I didn’t like."); of his travels in in the North African neighborhoods of France eating braewats and Bisteeya and lamb tagine, …lamb in the context of North African history; it was lamb the way they must have eaten it for generations. It was their story; I just got to eavesdrop.
I love reading of his journey of cooking that led to his first establishment, a Korean “BBQ joint,” where his success as a "cool" establishment colliding with a less-than-happy visit from Jeremiah Tower of Chez Panisse led him to doubt:
All that revelry and cash started to feel like failure…
I was a literature major, so I like to see things as metaphors. The [bland] beef was only the surface of this hulking mass of a disappointment I’d built…I knew inside that there was more to life than grilled meat and tequila shots.
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I don’t remember exactly why I decided to go to the Kentucky Derby. For a city kid from Brooklyn, that seersucker-and-bourbon spectacle somehow seemed like the panacea to my urban hell. A friend of a friend knew of a restaurant in Louisville that would hire me for the weekend of the Derby, so I could make a little cash and see a bit of the bluegrass. I wanted to take my shoes off and walk barefoot through the fields of clover. I wanted to walk alongside the cows that grazed on the same grass that was below my feet. I packed my bag for a week. And it was a week that would change my life forever. (p.45)
With a degree in English, he knows how to tell a story with love and humor and grace. Here is what he says about his grandmother, at whose side he learned to cook:
Before she died, my grandmother made me promise I'd choose a good wife. I said I would. I knew she meant a Korean wife, but neither of us wanted to say it. I also told her I had just found a great job that would make me rich. I lied. But it made her relax, which meant her pain would go away for a few hours. My grandmother died on New Year's Day of 1997, the exact same day Townes Van Zandt died. I sometimes dream they are waiting in line next to each other at the heavenly gates. He plays her a song and she tells him how familiar it sounds. 'My grandson listened to that song,' she'd say, 'always trying to impress the white girl.' Then they'd laugh about it and walk peacefully into the next world. (p.162)
Lee describes his visit to a humanely run abattoir, a sojourn he felt compelled to take. He says the writer, political activist, humanist, farmer, and philosopher Wendell Berry’s statement, Eating is an agricultural act that “…no other five words have made more of an impact on my career.”
'I need to see firsthand what happens to these animals, the agricultural act that links these farms to my table.' As he adds, 'Animals, far from being just property, are sentient beings.' And must be treated humanely. Lee doesn’t flinch at telling us what he sees there, but neither does he linger on the gore.
Why does he do it?
I’ve been back…and to other abattoirs in the region, and when I occasionally tell people about these experiences, I get a range of reactions, some curious, some disgusted. What’s a chef doing killing animals? Shouldn’t I be in the kitchen? I know I don’t belong in the kill room. But where do I belong? On a farm, picking berries? Behind an expo line shouting orders? In front of a camera, talking nonsense? Or maybe in front of my computer writing about it to give some public voice to a process that generally goes unnoticed, to a group of unnamed pigs who became delicious meals. This is my attempt at an agricultural act. (p. 101)
Lee’s love of family is a strong thread that runs through his life, through his tales. He speaks frequently of the deep affection he has for his grandmother, his parents, his sister, his wife, Dianne. His description of their engagement to his family is touching:
I told Dianne that whatever happened that night, [when he introduced her to his family as his fiancée] just keep eating kimchi like there was no tomorrow. When I announced our engagement, all of a sudden everyone was talking in Korean, which we never did. Dianne was so brave and strong and beautiful and patient, and she ate about a pound of kimchi….My mom got quiet, and I could tell she was fighting her emotions. She wanted to find something to like about Dianne, something she could say to welcome her into the family. After a long silence, she looked up at me and said, 'She likes kimchi, huh?' She said it in English. And that was how she gave us her blessing. (p. 162)
And then to Dianne’s family:
Now it was my turn to meet Dianne’s family. We drove up to Ferdinand, Indiana. Population: very small and very German-Catholic. I’d say it was a quaint town, but quaint implies cozy, and cozy implies imperfection, and Ferdinand is perfect…This was Dianne’s world---humble yet resourceful.
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Dinners with Dianne’s family are never long-winded affairs. They are condensed and scripted. There is no unnecessary lingering. As each family member leaves, Dianne’s mom carefully hands out jars of sauerkraut. It seems random---most get one jar, some get two, others get none. I’ve never been able to figure out her system---I’ve stopped trying…
When I made that important first visit to Ferdinand, I came with a letter I’d written to Dianne’s parents. I read it to them in their living room. I told them how much I loved their daughter and how I wanted to spend my life with her. They gave me their blessings, but, like my parents, they kept their emotions restrained. We had a pleasant dinner and gossiped about everyone in Ferdinand. At the end of the night, as we were leaving, Dianne’s mom gave us six jars of sauerkraut. (p. 163)
Lee calls himself a “tough guy” but he is not afraid, as depicted here, to show his softer, compassionate side. There is this:
I ended up cooking dinner at the Louisville Metro Youth Detention Center, which is a place for teen offenders who are too young for penitentiaries. I made BBQ with an array of sides and peach cobbler…I scooped their dinner onto Styrofoam plates and talked to them as they walked through the buffet line. All of these kids had made bad choices, some more so than others, but what surprised me was that, in their eyes, they were still kids. Most were shy; they giggled at anything, like all teens do. They were inquisitive and curious and hungry. They were kids. The warden asked me to say something to them. I didn’t give a lecture or tell my life story. All I said was that I believed in my heart that everyone deserves a good meal and that included them. They gave me hugs and asked if I’d come back. They wrote me letters. As I said, I consider myself a pretty tough guy, and I thought I was ready for anything, but I never thought I’d have to swallow my tears as these kids smiled and waved good-bye to me in their brown jumpsuits and slippers. (p. 189)
Edward Lee is a man who embraces life, enjoys an amazing joie de vivre, and appreciates all the good his life has brought. He is an engaging, charming, funny writer. He is charitable and serious and warm, someone I would like to meet.
On second thought, maybe I will spend the bucks for my own copy of Smoke and Pickles. Who knows? I might someday try some of his recipes. Perhaps Rice and Rémoulade, a Braised Brisket, Bourbon-and-Coke Meatloaf Sandwich, Tamarind-Strawberry-Glazed Ham. Or how about Southern Fried Rice, or Bourbon-Ginger-Glazed Carrots or WTF Potato Salad…. -
WOW...Such great diversity. Although this book is on loan from my town library, it needs to be owned. I will definitely look to purchase this in the near future. I admire the combination of Lee's Southern , French and Korean creations. For me, this was the most unique cookbook read of 2013.
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(update) This excellent cookbook remains my new favorite (and a great birthday gift from H!). The recipes are workable and delicious and don't usually require excessively obscure ingredients. (Well, at least, these are all staples in my pantry). His guiding philosophy seems to be: everything tastes better with vinegar. Words to live by.
Since last summer, I've made 3 batches of pickles, plus pickled grapes, the adobo fried chicken with dipping sauce, the butter beans (2x), and have plans for many more...
My only difficulty is the equipment: I'm dying to make his lamb prosciutto, but apparently I need an empty refrigerator in which to hang a leg of lamb for 66 days.... Every once in a while, the limitations of living in a small city apartment thwart me.... -
Food from the American South with a bit of a twist is what this book promised, which hopefully won't scare ultra-conservative traditionalists away.
The author has adopted Southern food as his own style, but elements of his Korean roots and classical French culinary training seep through. Through this book it is hoped that the reader will be able to "do it for themselves" without any problem, with over 100 foolproof recipes on offer. In between the recipes is a bit of a diary-style look at the author's life to date to provide additional context and a bit of an interesting read to boot.
You can sense this is a bit of an "unconventional" book from the start. No other cookbook would feature a full page picture of a partially-eaten meal, with just a few french fries and pickles remaining to be eaten, smeared liberally with tomato sauce. This really DID grab this reviewer's attention. This book is a lot more than just a collection of recipes and a bit of binding text. It is a total culinary journey. Sure you could skip past the various life portraits and background text and just grab the (very good) recipes, but you would be losing out. In some ways the recipes are less important, as strange as this may sound, yet they are also important. Think of it as a hot dog, you can have use the sausage in many ways without the roll and, of course, the roll can be used with other fillings. But when put together (with mustard and onion) they are truly something different and unique.
The book is split into key categories based on the main ingredient (lamb, beef, vegetables and so on) but sadly there is a faux cute labelling which just irritated this reviewer and felt truly out of place with the book. "Birds and Bluegrass", "Buttermilk and Karaoke" or "Veggies and Charity" are some of the less annoying titles, but to be truthful they all just grated. This is a book to sit down with when you have the time to explore, to dream and to think. The cooking can wait, even though you might be inspired to hit the kitchen running. You can sense the author's love and enthusiasm oozing out from within the pages. The photography is excellent and acts as a good companion to the book as a whole. No afterthought at all. The only gripes are quite common ones. The measures are only given in US imperial units. No estimation of preparation and total cooking times. So many books tend to forget these small, but often important, little basics. Everything else is just perfect. Clear instructions, engaging text, surprising twists here and there. A book to be seen, purchased and treasured.
One hopes that this book has a good, comprehensive index to allow you to navigate and exploit it to the full. Unfortunately this pre-publication review copy was missing the index so, if that sort of thing is important to you, you better check it out before purchase. That said, this is one of those books that would still be good without an index, yet why have a good steak if you can have a VERY good steak instead? This book was a good find, perhaps you will agree?
Smoke and Pickles, written by Edward Lee and published by Artisan. ISBN 9781579654924, 304 pages. Typical price:USD29.95. YYYYY.
// This review appeared in YUM.fi and is reproduced here in full with permission of YUM.fi. YUM.fi celebrates the worldwide diversity of food and drink, as presented through the humble book. Whether you call it a cookery book, cook book, recipe book or something else (in the language of your choice) YUM will provide you with news and reviews of the latest books on the marketplace. // -
It's not at all surprising to learn that Edward Lee's major in University was English Literature. His writing is well-formed and flowing - not staid, or pedantic, or dry; it is infectious. The essays at the beginning of each chapter are worth the price of the book - funny, moving, caring, opinionated, brash, and yet simultaneously, often intensely private and thoughtful. It's an eye-opening look into the wild cultural mix, with its prejudices (some negative, but mostly positive) of North America. Naturally, because of Lee's heritage, there is a focus on Korea. But because of his adopted home, the greater focus is the cuisine of Kentucky. One of my favourite ironies was Lee's confession at wondering about the quality of "soy sauce made by a white guy?" from this second generation Korean-American man who grew up in New York. You have to love America! (I too found myself wondering how good a "white guy"'s soy sauce could be.
Thank you, Edward Lee for breaking down our prejudices!
Some of the ingredients and brand names Edward Lee names as if they are standard ingredients on everybody's kitchen shelves were unfamiliar to us: sorghum (as in syrup), "Duke's" mayonnaise, "Texas Pete" hot sauce, lardo....Lardo Cornbread Cornbread is a matter of controversy in my house. I know enough not to add sugar to the batter; but my wife always drizzles sorghum or maple syrup on it. "That's different," she says. Because I find most cornbread a little dry, I add so much fat to the batter that you don't miss the sugar. "That's cheating," she says, as she pinches the last crumbs of this cornbread into her mouth. I can't win. [Veggies & Charity | Lardo Cornbread]
However, there are several sidebars dotted throughout this really wonderful cookbook that explain the ingredients or tell readers how to find them, or offer alternatives:[Y]ou can find pork rinds at most gas station convenience stores — they add flavor and depth to almost any dish. It makes me think, "What other culinary secrets are truck drivers hiding?" [Seafood & Scrutiny | Rice Bowl with Tuna, Avocado, Pork rinds, and Jalapeño Rémoulade]
Each recipe is introduced with a brief paragraph, generally conversational rather than simply dully summarizing the dish. The recipe procedures often contain lovely interjections as well. Yes, even if you don't particularly like the sound of whatever recipe is being presented, it's worthwhile reading the recipe just for the entertainment value.
All cookbooks should be written this way! It's almost as good as being in the same kitchen, being able to watch and/or be allowed to help to prepare the dishes.
That's right. This is a book that deserves to be read, page by page, from start to finish. Over the last part of the summer, we sat on the front porch as I read this book aloud. There were times that I had to stop to collect myself from choking up; there were times I had to stop to make a note of which recipe we neeeeded to try; there were times I had to stop to look up an ingredient. And there were many many times I had to stop because we couldn't stop laughing out loud. One place was the recipe for "WTF Potato Salad" (yes, that's really what it's called!)I'm not a fan of simple potato salads, which only hold my attention for a bite or two. So I came up with this version for those nights when I want to eat only vegetables but I don't want it to feel too healthy or boring. [Veggies and Charity | WTF Potato Salad]
Just in case you think it is the title that we couldn't stop laughing about, you are wrong. It is the fact that Edward Lee appears to consider ham to be a vegetable - ham is one of the several ingredients in this "only vegetables" salad! And it's not just a tiny trace of ham either. Edward Lee calls for an ounce (28 grams) of "finely diced" ham per serving!
One of the really intriguing ingredients Edward Lee calls for is "Togarashi". Because it's not necessarily likely to be on general supermarket shelves, he offers an explanation of what it is. But he leaves out what kind of seeds the "other seeds" are. Hey, what's with that Edward?!!is a Japanese spice blend that you can find in Asian markets. It comes in cute bottles shaped like shotgun shells. There are a number of different varieties, but the basic ones contain a mix of chili powder, dried orange peel, dried seaweed, sesame seeds, and other seeds. [Bourbon and Bar Snacks | Togarashi ichimi]
There are several recipes that just seem over the top. We agreed that we'd like to try a little if someone else were going to make the dishes but they just sound like too much work. Others sound wildly sweet (Edward Lee loves his sugar and/or sorghum syrup!) The frosting for his Whiskey-Ginger Cake with Pear Salad calls for 3/4 pound of butter, 1/4 pound of cream cheese, 1/4 cup good-quality whiskey, a teaspoon vanilla (why?? that will ruin the flavours from the good-quality whiskey!), and - wait for it - TWO 1-pound boxes of icing sugar! Two pounds of sugar? Whoa!!! My head hurts just thinking about that.
I had to avert my eyes at the description of Steak Tartare with a six-minute egg and strawberry ketchup - it's not the tartare that gave me pause; it's the runny yolk. Brrrrrrr.... I found myself babyishly turning my nose up at grits (too mushy) and anything that calls for Red Bull and/or cola (so sweeeeet!!). There is one recipe included that is just downright weird: tobacco cookies?!
But, whether or not the recipes appeal, it's impossible not to like the deeply personal (but not cloying or touchy-feely) introductions and stories Lee relates at the opening of each recipe. Or, if you dare, skip the recipes entirely and just read the essays at the beginning of each section. The introduction to "Cows and Clover" is fabulous.
Another really nice touch is that almost every recipe is the note about what is best to drink with the dish - wine, or beer, or ale, or iced tea, or bourbon. Of course he suggests bourbon! He's in Kentucky!
Many of the wines and beers sound like a lot of fun - we may have to make a trip to Kentucky to tour microbreweries! We'll be sure to get at least a few bottles of the elusive (here in Canada, anyway) sorghum syrup at the same time.
Seemingly "common" ingredients we had to look up:
» lardo
» pimentón
» Asian Sesame oil (It's unclear whether Lee is calling for toasted or untoasted.)
» Togarashi
Ingredient we cannot find here:
» sweet sorghum
Ingredient we cannot afford (but wish we could):
» good BourbonI can't stand the word "fusion," not only because it is dated, but also because it implies a kind of culinary racism, suggesting that foods from Eastern cultures are so radically different that they need to be artificially introduced or "fused" with Western cuisines to give them legitimacy. For as long as I have been cooking in restaurants, it has been common practice for the cooks and waiters to sit down at staff meal and flavor our suppers with curry, salsa verde, soy sauce, Tabasco, mayo, teriyaki, melted butter, and that dreaded plastic bottle of "rooster sauce" (i.e., Sriracha) that exists in every restaurant kitchen. [...] [O]nce the restaurant doors open, we revert to serving a cuisine hampered by traditions and limitations. [...] If it is part of our vernacular, then it is part of our pantry. That's a simple mantra that I've tried to follow in my cooking, both at home and at the restaurant. Why exclude anything? If I like pork rinds and I like raw tuna, well, I'll be damned if they don't find a way into a dish together. It isn't forced. My culinary vernacular is broad, and it grows all the time. [Introduction: Rice Rémoulade]
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I think there's no meal that's more fun than tearing into a roast duck with a table full of friends. I serve the duck with lots of condiments. I like the abundance. I like fighting for it at the table. [Birds and Bluegrass | Honey-Glazed Roast Duck]
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There's always music playing in my kitchen. Different tempos for different times of the day. [...] there's a rhythm in what we do in our kitchens. I hear it in the steady chop of a knife against a cutting board, a whisk picking up speed in a bowl, or the constant movements of a stir-fry. I can tell how good a chef is just by listening to the sound of her knife work. It is quiet but steady and strong[...]
Dishes sing, ingredients have notes, flavors harmonize, BBQ rocks; the metaphors abound. I like metaphors because they can express thoughts in a way that the literal cannot. When I say I want to cook like Elvis, you know what I mean. [...]I want to cook the way Elvis lived his life — bold and untethered and agitated. I have admired and learned from so many great cooks [...] , and the best ones have inspired a melody. [...] I could fill a book with pages and pages on complicated pastry skills, but that doesn't get at why we want desserts and what we want out of them. We want them to make us sing [Buttermilk & Karaoke]
Let the music begin!
Bookmarked:
» Grilled Lamb Heart Kalbi in Lettuce Wraps (the marinade - I confess I don't have the heart to try heart....)
» Rice Bowl with Beef, Onions, Collards, Fried Egg, and Corn Chili Rémoulade (the marinade! the collards!)
» Oxtail Stew with Lima Beans
» T-Bone Steak with Lemongrass-Habanero Marinade
» Miso-Smothered Chicken
» Potato-stuffed Roast Chicken
» Honey-Glazed Roast Duck (the hot sauce!!)
» Chicken-fried Pork Steak with Ramen Crust and Buttermilk Pepper Gravy (how can anyone resist a recipe that includes the instructions to "Braise for 2 hours while you read some Walt Whitman poems" and "If you feel any guilt about eating this rich dish, sprinkle a little fresh parsley over the top"?)
» Cola Ham Hocks with Miso Glaze
» Brined Pork Chops with Peach-Ginger Glaze (the Glaze and the Pistachio Gremolata....)
» Dried Tomato Ketchup
» Warm Shrimp Salad with Lemongrass Crumbs
» Pickled Corn-Bacon Relish
» Pickled Coffee Beets
» Kabocha Squash Mac'n'cheese with Pork Rind Crust
» Roasted Okra and Cauliflower Salad
» Parsnip and black pepper Biscuits
» Curried Corn Griddle Cakes with Sorghum-Lime Drizzle
» Fried Green Tomato-Cilantro Relish
» Togarashi Cheesecake with Sorghum (the gingersnap crust!)
» Buttermilk Ice Cream
» Blackened Pineapple Salsa
» Whiskey-Ginger Cake with Pear Salad
+ + + + +
It turns out that lardo is the Italian name fatback cured with rosemary and other herbs and spices!In its purest form, lardo is fat from the back of a pig [...] [u]sed for centuries in Italian cuisine, namely that from Colonnata, a Tuscan hamlet in the Apuan Alps, this food dates back to the time when Romans were the superpower. It's still made today by curing, spicing, and aging this exceptionally fatty cut of meat to create a rich charcuterie that can be eaten in many ways. [...] Lardo is thick, unctuous, and silky in texture, qualities that become more pronounced when enhanced with rosemary, garlic, sage, oregano, coriander, anise and cinnamon. Traditionally, lardo was cured in boxes made from Carrara marble [...] rubbed with garlic before layering the lardo and spices inside, and the contents left to age for six months.
[- Linnea Covington, The Spruce Eats | What is Lardo? (
thespruceeats.com/what-is-lardo-4778951 )]
+ + + + +
Might pimentón simply be paprika?
+ + + + +
Searching the internet, it appears that the seeds in Togarashi spice blend may include black and white sesame seeds, poppy seeds, hemp seeds, flaxseed, sichuan peppercorns, and rapeseed. But the all of the various mixes seem to include black and white sesame seeds, dried seaweed, ginger, orange peel, Sansho (prickly ash), and hot chili. -
Great recipes, and tells a story as well as any cookbook I've seen.
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I haven't made any of the recipes in here yet, but worth a read for his memories. Got a signed copy from Louisville's great indie bookstore, Carmichael's.
610 has a place in my heart - I ate there back in the '70's when it opened as one of the first fine/experimental dining places in Louisville, and in the city itself. Old Louisville, about 3 blocks from my apartment. So I was so glad to hear Chef Lee took over the space. I have also been lucky enough to eat there since he has taken the space over. My intro to halibut cheeks!
Nice twists on traditional Louisville food. Good life stories. Seems like the kind of guy you'd love to chat w/ over a few glasses of fine bourbon. -
This is a beautifully photographed book and reads like a novel. The narrative is extremely well written and the author definitely has a gift for words. The recipes though are not very practical for your average at home cook. One of the more exotic recipes calls for tobacco water which is made with water and the tobacco leaves of a good quality cigar. I liked the book, and I respect the art of the recipes inside of it, but it is more of a coffee table book than a cookbook.
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This was a cookbook I was prepared not to like, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that I did. The recipes are nothing I am remotely familiar with, but Lee explains everything so well I can hardly wait to try a bunch of them.
There is a lot of writing in this cookbook. It's sort of an autobiography with recipes. Still, I like cookbooks that give lots of information and are not just slapped together. Lee's attention to detail and his stories make this a cookbook to own. -
Best Ice cream dessert recipe ever ! Buttermilk ice cream with espresso poured over...mmmmmmmm. I really loved the few things I made from this book. it was very meat centered but I easily adjusted them to a vegetarian diet.
His story is interesting and he is full of personality it made reading about him fun. I hope he writes another fusion cookbook with some more tales. -
Can I just echo Autumn's review? Basically, this book is too meat-centric for how I cook and eat, but I love the idea of kimchi in my collard greens. I would add that it's all a bit chefy with lots of steps and assembly. Beautiful pictures and I think the text would be interesting(though I didn't read it--sorry!)
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I had the Priveledge of meeting Mr. Lee at a food festival several years back and right off I fell in love with his personality and his wacky inventive style of cooking combining Asian fusion with classic southern cooking. The result is the stuff of dreams. Mr. lee's quirky and funny personality is displayed in both the recipes and the stories.
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I've never sat and read a cookbook before but I found this to be as close to a page-turner as I imagine a cookbook could be. of course, I'm a sucker for bourbon and it's mentioned as often as the f word in "wolf of wall street," but his writing was really enjoyable and the recipes are exciting, mouth-watering, and, most importantly to me, doable in a home kitchen. thanks to Jo for this gift!
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I really liked the author when he was on Top Chef, and this book of stories and recipes just affirms the good feelings I had. I appreciate his approach to food, and I love how he draws together the flavors of Korea and Kentucky. I tried his caraway refrigerator pickles -- so good!
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Absolute best cook book I have ever read. It's not just about following the recipes, it's about feeling the food and sharing with others what you've created.
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This cookbook was a great pairing of Southern and Asian cooking.
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I really liked the stories in this book as well as the great recipes. Ed Lee is a cool guy.
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An amazing story of chef Ed Lee’s personal journey into his Korean food heritage and his embrace of Southern US cuisine, blending the both into explosive, delicious creations never before imagined. Lee finds similarities between both cuisines and is famous for his exquisite food in his Louisville Kentucky restaurants. More than one famous chef has made the hallowed trek to Lee’s stomping ground in Louisville and environs to get a taste of his genius.
This is Lee’s story from his graffiti stunts as a rebellious Brooklyn kid into the world of hard core cooking in Europe, New York City, and ultimately, Louisville. A burned out Lee visited Louisville for the Kentucky Derby, prompting a transfer from New York to Louisville and sparking a creativity that is splendidly evident in the story and the recipes of this book. A typical Lee recipe: Cola Ham Hocks with Miso Glaze. Or his Southern Fried Rice recipe (with black-eyed peas). Lee’ stories accompanying the recipes are fascinating, thoughtful, and personal. That, to me, is what truly elevates this book. -
I have been fangirling on Edward Lee from practically the first time I saw him on tv. His cookbook is just like his demeanor on screen and in Buttermilk Graffiti -- unpretentious and appreciative of daily life. I love how each chapter has an ingredient theme running through it and stories that make the recipes real. There's a good balance of "foodie" and "regular person" recipes. I only gave it four stars because sometimes he would switch from past to present tense which was awkward for me, and there were some descriptions/techniques in the instructions that I didn't quite get (although that's probably more my insecurities about cooking food then on him - he did a pretty good job of catering stuff to the layperson).
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One of the best books I’ve read in a long time. Edward Lee is like my spirit animal. His passion for heritage, food, and life is real, raw, inspired and inspiring. I loved this more for the memoirs than the recipes, and that surprised me. His recounting of all things Louisville would have seemed familiar even if I didn’t actually happen to grow up in that area. I’d love to share a story, meal, and bourbon with him.
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I was so draw to this cookbook just looking at the front cover, how can someone mix southern recipes with Asian food. Well Edward Lee found a way and all the recipes looks delicious!
There are some things that I would not make just because of the complexity of the recipe but there are others that I think I can manage.
The stories and how they are written makes you keep turning the page to see what next Edward found a way to change it up. -
It has a lot less of the stories I loved so much in his second book. So if you haven't read that one yet I wholeheartedly recommend it! Some very good recipes, ones I will use, more I will adapt to ingredients more easily found here in the Pacific Northwest. I appreciate the list in the back of the book as to where to find some of his favorites.
