News

Korean cuisine is a tantalizing blend of sour, sweet, hot, burning hot, salty, bitter, and nutty, or so writes Hi Soo Shin Hepinstall, author of Growing Up in a Korean Kitchen. Part autobiography and part cookbook, this remarkable work provides a practical introduction to a cuisine Americans have encountered with delight, and a poignant memoir of a time and place in which an average family meal could consist of seven or more dishes, hierarchically served according to gender and family standing (males and grandmas ruled).
Beginning with a scene-setting journey to the author's childhood home, the book then provides a detailed account of relevant ingredients, equipment, techniques, and sauces and pastes (many based on soy beans and red pepper). Over 175 recipes follow for a wide range of everyday and special-occasion dishes, from rice and cereal specialties, including an intriguing fried rice with chicken, mushrooms, and kimchi; to fresh salad and vegetable dishes such as Sautéed Spring Garlic; to barbecued specialties like Fried Beef Ribs; to desserts and confections. A chapter on celebratory dishes, such as the extraordinary, multi-ingredient Celestial Hot Pot, is balanced by a homey section on stews and dishes such as Braised Pork Spareribs. Throughout, Hepinstall offers asides that place the food in its cultural context, variations, and technical information. With an illuminating section on tea and other drinks, the book makes an exciting introduction to a kind of cooking Westerners can now prepare and enjoy at home. --Arthur Boehm

Food and Wine, Kimchi Chronicles, June 2001

"Our kitchen became an unimaginable place of absolute madness at feast time, when more than a hundred might be served," Hi Soo Shin Hepinstall writes in her upcoming first cookbook, Growing Up in a Korean Kitchen. For Hepinstall, a prizewinning Korean novelist who came of age in the sleepy town of Ch'ongju in the 1940s, banquets were memorable occasions. All the women in her family participated, hand-rolling noodles, boiling huge cauldrons of flavorful broth and preparing myriad side dishes. During these week long cooking frenzies, Hepinstall learned the family recipes she shares in her book, including mandu (stuffed dumplings), chapch'ae (noodles with stir-fried vegetables) and kimchi (the fiery pickled cabbage dish that is a must at every meal). Hepinstall also offers revelatory glimpses of everyday home life - the tyranny of her strong-willed grandmother, the influence of Confucian rituals and the way the hierarchy of family members was reflected by what they ate. Clear instructions, a glossary of ingredients (like ssukgat, or crown daisies), and helpful suggestions of substitutions for hard-to-find items make this introduction to the world of Korean cooking as practical as it is evocative. - Susan Choung

Gourmet, Korean Confessions, February 2002

Can you honor your father and mother and their forebears through means they would have thought dishonorable? Hi Soo Shin Hepinstall, Korean by birth and American by choice, faced this dilemma when she decided to use reminiscences of her traditional Confucian-Buddhist family as the focus of a cookbook for people in her adoptive country. Talking about one's family in public was taboo in the Korea of her upbringing. She went ahead with the idea anyway, and we can all be grateful.

Previous Korean cookbooks for an American audience have done little to bridge two far-removed cultures. Growing Up in a Korean Kitchen is another matter. Hepinstall grounds her accounts of meals, flavor combinations, and cooking techniques in concrete, lovingly remembered household routine and ceremony. From her family's homemade versions of preparations - like soy sauce and hot red pepper paste - that even Koreans ordinarily buy today, to wonderfully varied rice dishes, stocks, soups, grilled and braised meats, dumplings, and herb and grain teas, the recipes have a rooted quality found only in the most exceptional cookbooks.

The other good news is that the publisher has done justice to the author's aim with a book design that lets Hepinstall address us visually (through her own black-and-white photographs of kitchens, ingredients, equipment, people, places, and, most memorably, her parents and siblings) in a "voice" as direct and original as that of the text and recipes. This is the breakthrough introduction to Korean cuisine many of us have been waiting for. - Anne Mendelson

Los Angeles Times

Books for Cooks: The Best of 2001
By RUSS PARSONS, Times Food Editor

"The Last Course," Claudia Fleming with Melissa Clark (Random House, $40)

There are two types of people in the kitchen: cooks and bakers. For the first group, looking at a typical fancy baking book is usually enough to induce a dead faint, or at least a turning of the page. Three or four sub-recipes for every dish, always at least two ingredients that call for a special trip to the market--who needs all that work for just another chocolate cake?

"The Last Course," by Fleming, the pastry chef at New York's Gramercy Tavern, is a cook's baking book. The dishes are elegant and thoughtfully composed, but they're refreshingly simple in both concept and execution. It's a rare recipe here that contains more than two sub-recipes (at least until you get to the whiz-bang "Signature Composed Dishes" chapter at the end). Open the book at random and you'll find recipes for things such as chestnut souffles with Armagnac-nutmeg custard sauce, spiced red wine-fig compote or hazelnut parfait. And here's what will make you crazy: Without skimping on instruction, none of those recipes runs more than a page. Even for a non-baking cook, this is irresistible stuff. "The Last Course" is the first dessert book that truly belongs alongside Lindsey Shere's wonderful "Chez Panisse Desserts," published in 1985. There can be no higher praise than that.

"Pleasures of the Vietnamese Table," Mai Pham (HarperCollins, $27.50)

With its fresh, vibrant flavors, shouting with fish sauce and lime juice, there's little wonder Vietnamese cooking has become so popular in restaurants. But somehow--despite a wealth of markets in Southern California--it hasn't penetrated to the home cook. Well, if what you've been waiting for is a good, brisk introduction to Vietnamese cooking, get busy.

Pham, who runs Lemon Grass Restaurant in Sacramento, covers all the basics, from a guide to the many fresh herbs and condiments (including recommended brands) to how to eat pho-- crucially, the herbs should be added a bit at a time so they keep their color. There is also quite a bit of historical and cultural material, outlining the evolution of Vietnamese cuisine and explaining the making of everything from fresh coconut milk to your own rice wrappers.

Indeed, the more time you spend with this book, the more remarkable it seems that Pham is able to cover so much material in perfectly adequate depth in such a slim book (less than 250 pages). The recipes are much the same--a few ingredients adding up to a big effect. In this case, less is considerably more.

"Zarela's Veracruz," Zarela Martinez with Anne Mendelson (Houghton Mifflin, $35)

The many cuisines of Mexico are as geographically varied as those of any country in the world. Yet most Mexican cookbooks tend to be general, as if what is eaten in Oaxaca is also eaten in Sonora. Maybe we're finally ready for Regional Mexican Cuisine. If so, Martinez, an occasional contributor to the Times Food section, has set the standard these books will have to meet.

In this and her previous "The Food and Life of Oaxaca," published in 1997, she displays a clear-eyed, deeply informed approach to her chosen regions that not only illuminates the cooking of the area but also shows how the food fits into the larger culture (her section on the Afro-Caribbean influence in Veracruz is fascinating).

Best of all, it's told in Martinez's inimitable voice, sometimes seducing, sometimes hectoring. One section is straightforwardly titled "If You Really Want to Cook Like Me." In a bit about canned milk, she chides her reader for foodie foolishness: "Do not wince and start thinking of more elegant products that you can substitute. The use of condensed and evaporated milk is a part of Latin American culture that deserves to be understood, not sneered at."

"Simple French Cooking," Georges Blanc and Coco Jobard (Sterling, $29.95)

This has to be the find of the year. Most foodies know Blanc as one of the most famous chefs in France. But how many know that his grandmother, Elisa, was one as well? She was one of "Les Meres Lyonnaises," a group of sturdy restaurant-owning women whose cooking came to define French cuisine in their day every bit as much as her grandson has today. (Eugenie Brazier, not Alain Ducasse, was the first French chef to win six Michelin stars.)

This tribute, originally published in French as "La Cuisine de Nos Meres," is full of food the Francophiles among us won't be able to resist. In fact, if you learned to cook before, say, 1985, these recipes are probably the originals of the first "fancy dishes" you ever made: chicken in cream sauce, braised beef Nicoise, chicken in red wine. This book may be a little difficult to find because it's from a small publisher, but finally the mothers of French cooking get their credit.

"Growing Up in a Korean Kitchen," Hi Soo Shin Hepinstall (10 Speed Press, $29.95)

Even for those who love to eat Korean food in restaurants, there is something vaguely mysterious about the cooking. While the flavors in Vietnamese and Thai dishes seem relatively transparent and easy to figure out, Korean is complex and unfamiliar. Aggravating that situation has been a relative dearth of Korean cookbooks. Until now, that is. "Growing Up in a Korean Kitchen" is part memoir, part travelogue, part recipe book--and wholly satisfying. Hepinstall, a novelist, was educated in Korea but has lived abroad for many years. The book helps you sort your way through the Korean marketplace, familiarizes you with fundamental cooking techniques and introduces you to the way flavors are built into the cuisine.

"Recipes From Home," David Page and Barbara Shinn (Artisan, $30)

Home may be a restaurant in Manhattan, but it's not of Manhattan. Rather, it belongs in Chicago or Madison, Wis., or some other sophisticated outpost in the Midwest. This is American regional cooking at its finest--seasonal, ingredient-focused and unfussy. Think of it as California cuisine without the olive oil or basil.

Most important, it's firmly rooted in the authors' upbringings. There's great stuff here, such as a parsley salad with country ham and tomatoes, smoked fish with horseradish dressing and a creamy chicken and ham casserole with artichokes. The cooking is so natural and of a piece that the occasional incongruities--say, a Southwestern black bean soup (with one whole tablespoon of minced jalapeno for four servings!)--really leap out at you.

"Vegetables From Amaranth to Zucchini," Elizabeth Schneider (William Morrow, $60)

Elizabeth Schneider is driven to discover and popularize the exotic, the obscure and the forgotten. Think of this book as a bigger and better version of her "Uncommon Fruits and Vegetables," published in 1986 and still an unequaled source for exotic fruit. Fancier, printed on glossy stock with lots of color photos, this new work is just as exhaustive. More than 100 vegetables, both common and uncommon, are described with histories, quotes, tips on buying, storing and cooking as well as recipes and even a section called Pros Propose, which offers precis of recipes from chefs and other food writers.

The book is weighted toward the academic (truth in labeling would have required the title "Vegetables from Amaranth to Yuca," since zucchini is folded into a chapter called Squash, Tender and Summer--a fate shared by many other common vegetables). But in most ways, this scholarly bent is central to its charm. Where else could you find a disquisition on the etymology of the word "zucchini" followed by a comparative tasting of at least a dozen varieties, and then a half-dozen recipes?

"In the Sweet Kitchen," Regan Daley (Artisan, $35)

This Canadian book was named the best cookbook of the year by the International Assn. of Culinary Professionals last year despite being unavailable in the United States--the first time that's ever happened. Now it is available, and you can see for yourself that the award was deserved. This is a baker's guidebook rather than a recipe collection (it runs more than 600 pages, and the 150 recipes don't begin until well past halfway).

And while the recipes are certainly better than adequate, it is the wealth of information that makes this book a standout. Consider more than five pages on vanilla, for example--including information on the differences among the various countries of origin, the different extracting methods and how the extracts compare to whole beans, and several tips on use and storage. The recipes tend to fall safely between homey and sophisticated--they sound different but not off-putting, such as walnut cake with coffee buttercream frosting and rhubarb brulee tartlets with ginger.

"Saveur Cooks Authentic Italian," Editors of Saveur Magazine (Chronicle, $40)

Almost every cook has a stash of those Time-Life Foods of the World cookbooks from the late '60s and early '70s tucked away in some far corner of a bookcase. They were uneven in quality even when new and, truth be told, most of them haven't aged all that well. Think of the "Saveur Cooks Authentic" series as an updated, more beautiful and more cookable version.

This third volume (American and French books preceded it) captures the strengths of the series. The writing is at the same time charming and tough-minded, lovingly capturing the cuisine but in its modern context, without falling prey to romanticism. Though the photography is artful and evocative, it never shows the hand of prop and food stylists. Most of all, the take on food is just right--genuinely sophisticated and never contrived.

"The Paris Cookbook," Patricia Wells (HarperCollins, $30)

It would be easy for Wells, longtime restaurant critic for the International Herald Tribune, to collect a couple of hundred recipes from Paris restaurants and put them out in a slick book with a big price tag. And it would probably sell a lot, too. But the great thing about Wells' books (this one is her fourth) is that they're so instructive. "The Paris Cookbook" is full of good food, but it's got even better information--tips and trucs from chefs both great and small that add up to a minor culinary education.

"Paris" probably won't rank with Wells' earlier "Bistro Cooking" or "Simply French," her remarkable adaptation of Jol Robuchon's cuisine for the American kitchen (there aren't many books by any author that do). But with the renewed interest in all things bistro, this would be a good place to start.

If you want other stories on this topic, search the Archives at latimes.com/archives. For information about reprinting this article, go to www.lats.com/rights.

Copyright 2002 Los Angeles Times
By visiting this site, you are agreeing to our Terms of Service.

New York Daily News, December 19, 2001

In Growing Up in a Korean Kitchen, Hi Soo Shin Hepinstall outlines an approachable collection of main dishes, soup and noodle dishes, braised dishes, hot pots and pan-fried dishes. Korean barbecue is a chapter unto itself, and you'll learn not just about the tradition of this succulent method of cooking, but how to marinate and grill everything from squid to snapper. For the adventurous, there are also recipes for hard-to-find items like rice punch (a non-alcoholic beverage made with rice, barley malt powder, pine nuts and chopped raisins) and seaweed chaban, seasoned with garlic, hot red pepper flakes, soy sauce, vermouth and sesame oil.

Orlando Sentinel, October 19, 2001

Part autobiography and part cookbook, this remarkable work provides a practical introduction to a cuisine Americans have encountered with delight, and a poignant memoir of a time and place in which an average family meal would consist of seven or more dishes, hierarchically served according to gender and family standing.

Rocky Mountain News, October 3, 2001

'Korean Kitchen Isn't for Dabblers'

For cooks who really want to delve into the mysteries of Korean cooking, I can strongly recommend Growing Up in a Korean Kitchen, by Hi Soo Shin Hepinstall. For those who are merely curious about this cuisine, the book isn't for you.

Korean cuisine hasn't gained a lot of attention in the United States. The last cookbook solely devoted to it that I can recall was The Korean Kitchen, by Copeland Marks with Manjo Kim. The erudite Marks acknowledged that here was "the best-kept culinary secret in Asia."

Hepinstall's daughter, Sonya, writes in her forward that her mother's book is "a reconstruction of a time-honored way of life and a guide to traditional Korean cooking." True enough. Many of the 175 recipes have been handed down orally for generations. A few, such as the recipe for making a year's supply of homemade soy sauce (it takes two months), are included to ensure that those traditions are not lost.

Even with an extensive glossary, however, it's easy to get "lost." Not only are these recipes largely unknown to American cooks, but so are many of the ingredients -- if you can find them. Sometimes the author serves up suggested substitutes, such as using dry vermouth for ch'ongju, or rice wine. This can't be said for the likes of crown daisies, fatsia shoots and piji, which is the residue, or dregs, left after making bean curd. In other instances, there's no explanation of the ingredient at all.

Some recipes are simple yet beyond reach for many. Yuja tea, for example, requires yuja, "the rarest and most precious fruit among Korean fruits." Others are long, such as fish stew. It has 21 ingredients and, Hepinstall says, can be prepared in 20 minutes. I question that and some of the other prep times the author lists for recipes.

Growing Up in a Korean Kitchen is beautifully and vividly crafted by Hepinstall, an award-winning Korean novelist who now lives in Washington, D.C. She also gives readers real insight into a cuisine that's little-known and little-understood. However, cooks should be prepared to be challenged by Hepinstall and live near a Korean or Asian market for any chance of duplicating her recipes. - Peter D. Franklin

Seattle Times, November 28, 2001

Growing Up in a Korean Kitchen, by Hi Soo Shin Hepinstall introduces us to this little-known Asian cuisine. The author, now living in Washington, D.C., has written a love letter to her homeland, with all of its traditions and rituals. Pickled dishes, such as kimchi, distinctive barbecue and braised dishes are the backbone of this cooking, and we are given a rich selection to choose from.