Love, Leluu

Serendipity With Joachim "YoYo" Friedrich

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 00:47:00 +0000

Joachim Friedrich

The most beautiful thing about New York City is its people, sings Joachim "YoYo" Friedrich, an artist I met on my first night in Manhattan, they make an effort to get along with one another despite color of skin and origin.

A splendid moment of serendipity, or fate, or destiny happened as I got turned away from The Mercer Kitchen. It was the first place I found once a yellow cab driver screeched his brakes and stopped me off mid Soho in fury of me not knowing where I was going. Being a singleton, there is no room for one, I'm sorry, sweetened the third waitress I was passed upon, as I look at the empty table and chairs. I headed aimlessly into the night in Soho, amongst closed galleries and boutiques in the bitter wind that clutched my face and snatched my head.

I gushed through the next watering hole, Barolo, ordered some wine at the bar and started to read my book, shaking off the bitter cold that had nearly reached my bones. A good fifteen minutes passed, when I paused between chapters, raised my head and immediately, YoYo took the opportunity to intervene. He was an old European man at the corner of the bar and from that moment on, YoYo stepped into my life.

YoYo is an artist from Berlin who turned 71 two days prior our meeting. He moved to New York City, Broome St, in the heart of Soho in 1971 when he was thirty years old and still resides at this premium address. Back then, this was the worse place to be.

Since 1987 when he became a Sufi, he wears a crochet hat, over his long blond hair that curtains upon his shoulders like ears of a faithful Labrador and his German accent and grammar is still in tact. He looks like a maturer but no less greater, Daniel Craig. Who is he? 007, I said. He tittered quietly in absolute but modest glory. His cool blue eyes are kind and peaceful but the lines on his face reflect a life lived through harmony and war.

As the night strolled along, and our glasses kept making a gurgling noise when the barman returned, it was apparent I had met a great man. When I spoke of my vocation as a supper club host and blogger, YoYo says, you're like the guy from Paris, Jim Haynes. I am sure he was at some of the parities I went to.

Would you like to have lunch tomorrow? The next day, YoYo invited me to his home/ studio, in around the corner from where we were to show me his art work. He said, there is no point eating steak in a restaurant because I can make it much better at home.

Before I was even born, YoYo had lived a life and had met and knew Jean-Michel Basquiat, Keith Herring and Julian Schnabel to name but a few.

When I entered YoYo's door, I was astounded by the vast amount of space and his simple but elegant decor. A rocking chair on one side, a small kitchenette that he built himself, a large dinning table accompanied by 70s chairs and the flood of light that flows through from the huge windows. But there is more! YoYo opens the doors, elegantly hidden in the walls like in a gallery space to show me the room of his housemate, Nicholas Gamabaroff whose show is currently at The White Cube in Hoxton, London, his newspaper pieces seemed to be inspired by YoYo Friedrich. The opposite end extend his studio, a spacious work area that is at the corner of the building - YoYo's place takes up about half a block.

YoYo maked tea, he offered me Earl Grey but I took PG Tips. Seeing me taking all those photographs about his place, he said, no one has ever done this before.

He has a shrine of gifts he has received throughout the years from friends. He shows me a sand rose from the Sahara, wood that has turned into stone. Stones and toys from all over the globe. He keeps them all, there are some along his window sill, some pour onto the dinning table.

Then YoYo proudly shows me the few publications and press he received in his life, from Flash Art to Art Review.

YoYo's main medium is The New York Times Newspaper. He would paint on them or he would tear them and collage huge pieces, which curled up the ceiling and rolled down on the floor. I am the best "gluer" in town! he says. But newspapers have changed now and I can no longer create the same affects. Back then newspapers had shades of black and grays today the paper is published in colors.

Prisunic, 1989-91

YoYo's few shows happened because of artist friends who established contacts for him with galleries. He did little to find a gallery to represent him. He couldn't deal with the business aspect which took shape in the sixties around Andy Warhol. We started to live in "instant time" with instant tea, instant meals, instant photography etc. and instant art, he claims. Today the artist does not "create" the art market but the art market with its galleries and curators "creates" the artist. It is all about art instantly understood instantly sold.

As an artist you can't be ahead of your time any longer you have to be in time with your work. YoYo worked independently from the market.

1977 - single pages, a photograph YoYo took of a girlfriend

In the eighties he collaged double pages of the New York Times to paint medieval motives and medical drawings with bold brushstrokes leaving spaces open to "read" the paper " information from then on the information from today." He thinks, that from the beginning of mankind the basic questions have not changed but the answers do all the time.

There is a story with Herbert Vogel, chuckles YoYo warmly, when I met him, he was a mail man, with the little money he earned, he bought drawings of conceptual and minimalist art, while they lived on his wife's income. When I went to his house, they had a little closet, and a small table, two chairs and a bed, but the walls were full of beautiful art. But he was a very sensitive man and can't take any humor. He came to my opening at Barbara Gladstone in 1982 and asked if he could have a picture of myself, him and his wife in front of one of my newspaper pieces and I said, sure! But for some reason, my wife couldn't work the Polaroid. It took ages and she was fiddling with it, I was getting a little annoyed so when she had finally managed to take the picture, I had a crocked smile on my face. Vogel wasn't impressed, took the photograph and I never saw him again!

The Funeral Of Princess Diana

YoYo showed me a portfolio of his paintings on double pages of the newspaper, which he does on and off, he mostly uses pages of movie ads and fashion, where he undresses the models in painting their clothes away. He says, he brings the photos alive. As you move from one side of the room to another the silver and the gold paint breathes, because the light reflects it differently on every spec. And you can see the painting transform, revealing itself as it inhales and exhales. The more you look at one of YoYo's paintings the more it speaks to you and communicates its feeling.

New York Times Series from 1977

YoYo started to work on and with the New York Times in the late seventies. From January 1st 1977 he selected daily a page on which he composed a drawing using collage, oil crayon and magic markers.
Like a journal, he says.

When I asked YoYo about his relationship with his parents, it was somewhat a difficult question, not for him to answer, but for the emotions it evoked. YoYo paused to swallow a gulp. YoYo's mother came from German high society. During the war, his mother had to exchange her jewelery for potatoes. My mother saved our lives, she did everything so that we could live. It is a difficult question, if I am close to my parents or not. I thought I can create a family outside my parents but my parents during the war had no time for emotions, they had to try to survive, to keep us alive.

After 40 years in NYC YoYo plays with the idea of leaving. There is a little Sufi village close to Damask, he says. I would like to go there to learn Arabic and to get deeper into Islam. But with the Arabic spring in the air... He is unsure now and thinks he will have to wait.

You will stay for lunch won't you? Of course YoYo, how could I refuse a home cooked meal? He proceeded to cook for me the most succulent New York Strip, with green beans - sorry about the beans he yelled across the room, they've lost some flavour, I'll add lots of garlic.

YoYo's used garlic peels for this piece in 2010

The finest New York Strip

He was taken by my interest in his work. And I told him, that I will publish something on my blog and I said "that I can only hope that others will enjoy your work like I do."

I left YoYo's apartment with a wealth of life as if I had found and opened a box of treasure, like I had just discovered an unknown place on earth. It was my fate to meet this man, this artist. His story as an artist is not yet finished.

If you have any interest in YoYo's work, please contact uyen.luu[at]gmail.com

New York, I Love You

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 11:55:00 +0000

View from The New Yorker Hotel

I wanted to leave the room quietly and close the door behind me so I flew away, to New York. Although it was just for one week, it was enough to rejuvenate and reflect on things behind the door and things in the new room. Manhattan seemed to be the perfect place for it, "concrete jungle where dreams are made of."

I arrived into New York's bitter wind and sharp cold embraces with a hefty smile. I ran and struggled against the force of the Atlantic wind as if I were a lover of the Arctic Circle, imagining scenes of serendipity with the man of my dreams. Had I passed him earlier in my travels somewhere in the world? Is he getting off the train I am on? Is he holding someone he loves or is he also looking for me too?

The romantic notion of New York City is embroidered into the weaves of my dream life, my short previous life here as well as my life with television series and movies I have watched from childhood to now. They aren't just movies, they too are my memories. I secretly hope that someone is also waiting for me on top of The Empire State Building or at Brooklyn Bridge or at the Central Park Ice Rink with my lost glove. Or that he appears while I have lunch at The Chrysler or would walk into an East Village cafe and sit beside me, we'd strike up a conversation and live happily ever after.

Central Park View From The Metropolitan Museum

Upper East Side, Central Park

Inside The Metropolitan Museum View Of Roof

In the city's landscapes where so many places have been iconised by tales of love of the big, the bad and the beautiful it is hard not to forgive one's entire lust for for love and romance.The city breathes your breath like a lover whispering sweet nothings into your mouth. Seducing you with feelings of ecstasy and euphoria, then in a whim, it sucks the life out of you, leaving you small and feckless in a big city with giants towering over the insignificance of you.

But people like me with strong faith in (guardian) angels see signs in the snow fall that dances on you and around you like notes from heaven, floating like feathers, each with a different message, covering everything in white, changing your whole perspective and covering all your woes and preoccupations with its gentle but cold kisses on the surfaces of your face.

Bus Window

Lafeyette/ Broadway

East Village

1st Ave, East Village

I revisited the places of my past in New York, from my old apartments in Sullivan St to the one on East 4th & Avenue A to dive bars and food places I used to eat in, séancing old ghosts of friends and lovers, and the old me, who was younger, freer, unbruised and pure of wrinkles and skin flaws. I hear their voices and laughter and feel the way they moved around me and gyrate in their youthful glee.

My Old Apartment East 4th Street/ Avenue A

As I walked across St Mark's Place, I remembered a lover I had met in New York. We fell in love one night after a party in someone's apartment because he had lost his bag. I reassured him that if something is lost, then it is regrettable but unfortunately it is probably gone forever and there is no point in worrying about it if it is gone. It can be replaced and then everything would be fine again. But I really liked that bag, he said, all the things inside, they meant a lot to me. I said, if it was very important to you, you wouldn't have lost it. He saw how it made sense to enjoy the moment, because time always moves, things are always lost, things always happen and time still moves whether you laugh or cry. So why cry… just close the door, another will open...

The Prince turned into a frog and as did all that followed but I never learned to laugh instead of cry when I lost them. When you are in love, nothing else seems to matter but when it ends the bliss that once was is tripled in pain. It is always hard to just forget them when things go up in flames, they only turn to ash and they blow away into dust, perhaps reincarnate into a new thing...

Lucky Envelopes I gave to people I met

Old Lovers sitting right next to me on subway

The best thing about New York City is how it really doesn't matter if you are happy or sad, mad or sane, you can just turn up at a noodle bar or a fine dinning restaurant, eat something on your own, go to a dive bar and always make friends for the evening. People seem to accept one another, whether they are good or bad, its OK to be whatever it is you are or want to be or have become.

Sophie's East 5th Street/ Avenue A

My favourite night was with a bunch of strangers at Sophie's on East 5th Street. Most people had arrived at the bar on their own and everyone began to talk to one another. We all even ordered take outs and shared it along the bar. This would never be allowed, never mind happen in London!


Queens

New York's subway hums of damp and urine. Its structure is rotting from the days of 'Bad' and even before but seems to be as efficient as ever. I love it when a band is playing or when I found a lone man drawing on the strings of a cello to Bach's notes. It echoed the whole station until the metal trains ran by and diluted the sounds, but he would continue and continue. It always passes.

Lucien Freud, The Metropolitan Museum

Brooklyn Bridge

As for asking directions, people are ever so kind, they really make sure you understand and there is often a very happy smile on New Yorkers when they feel like they have helped you. I love New York. I love striking a cigarette on the cold streets with New Yorkers. You can be very alone here, but there are many times when you don't have to be.

My favourite New York finds

(There was not enough meals in the day to fit everything I wanted to fit in)

Omai 158 9th Ave # 1 New York, NY 10011-4912

- Vietnamese, I didn't try pho, but the noodle salads are amazing. Great balance of flavours

Bathtub Gin 132 9th Ave (between 18th St & 19th St) New York, NY 10011

- Bar, cool, hip and lots of fun

Sophies's 509 E 5th St, New York, NY 10003

-Dive Bar, meet the love of your life or friends here

Megu Trump World Tower 845 UN Plaza New York, NY 10017

- Japanese Fine Dinning, I went for Restaurant Week - such good value and the freshest, most amazing food - one of the best meals ever!

Sushi Samba 245 Park Avenue South Manhattan, NY 10003

- Peruvian/ Brazilian Japanese Fusion - fantastic tasting sushi and ceviche. Was so good, we kept ordering more and more

Momofuku 171 1st Avenue New York, ny 10003 |

- Noodle Bar - quite expensive in the end but nice noodles, nothing amazing though

Freemans 8 Rivington St New York, NY 10002

- Brunch - nice for a rainy day, its dark but comfortable, great to go with a group of freinds

Luke's Lobster 93 E 7th St # A, New York, NY

-Snack- very expensive for 2 or 3 bites of a roll and you're done but as its treat, its well worth it

Snack Taverna 63 Bedford Street, New York, NY 10014

Nice breakfast/ brunch/ lunch

Snack Taverna

Love, In The Time Of The Supper Club

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 01:15:00 +0000

My name is Leluu, I have a supper club. People have heard about my supper club and they email me to book a place, and I say, yes, do come along.

I spend all day cooking an 8 course dinner for about 25 or so people (with my lovely mum), perhaps once a week. They make friends at the communal table, drink a lot of wine and enjoy what I give them to eat. Sometimes, the atmosphere is electric - a stunning combination of people with like minds and a hungry enthusiasm to meet others, to expand circles, to share and to give.

I have had the most amazing times running these nights. I've been blessed and filled with wonderful compliments and I keep seeing the same faces time after time and make wonderful friends with my guests.

I am so lucky to have such a great job. I've met people who were exactly like me in every sense in thought and spirit. I've met people who have showed me things I didn't know and given me more than I had anticipated. I've built long lasting friendships with people who care for me like I am a sister to them and have given forgiven my misgivings. This is what I wanted when I started the supper club without ever expecting it and for it to last two years and a bit.

And when I have been in love in these times, I am proud to show this person what I have created, brick by brick and I loved sharing them with my guests. Drinking wine at the end of the night with the person I loved with strangers in my house, making jokes, giving insights, revealing themselves to other strangers.

And when the strangers leave, it would just be the two of us, in midst of the music still blearing from the Bose, bouncing its acoustic magic upon a kiss, a proud cuddle, turn off the table lamps and lets go to bed.

But, 'buts' are inevitable for me, there have been many times when there isn't someone to love and it almost feels the saddest, loneliest thing to have all these people come round for dinner and at the end of the night, I gather the glasses into a bucket (ready for the dishwasher), the clinks it makes when staked one on top of another echos with the sweet tunes of Moon River and clonks of my high heels on the laminate flooring, my only company. Except for my loyal and gracious dogs who bounce around in relief that all the guests have filtered through and they can reclaim their space.

I am left with Twitter feeds, late night television and chews of the night's random leftovers. Perhaps I would eat a dessert someone hadn't touched or open a packet of ramen.

"Once, I wanted to be the greatest", perhaps more than once, every time I fell in love, perhaps too many times, perhaps too willingly when "no wind or weather fall could stop me" but came a flood and it was an illusion or foolishness. For sure, love, is my addiction, I feel rancid withdrawals without it and therefore, it must be a bad thing to love, or to love too much, for sure to love someone more than yourself.

Brick by brick, step by step, one always move further away from the abolition of it, detox and everything is fixed until, another one comes along and you can not resist.

The cycle starts.

The show must go on...
*Catpower = The Greatest

Love & Other Afflictions: The Bill

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 11:02:00 +0000

Who pays on the first date? The man, I would say and most of my friends would agree. Especially if he suggests the place and orders the wine. In my twenties, I was all about being an independent woman, who would pay for her own way, even dinner dates and drinks because I wanted to be in control. Nope, I was wrong and I was with boys who just took advantage of my generosity. (I even stupidy paid for boys to go on holiday with me - and its not to say its because I was wealthy, because I am not!).

A lot of women think that if they let the man pay the bill then they owe something to him, perhaps a night or more dates. Now in my thirties, I think I may have wised up a little, I offer to pay half of the bill if there is no consensus that he should pay it all.

But to be honest, if he pays it, he wins in my book, I would happily pay on the second date if he's any good. He looses many points if he doesn't. Its just the way it is.
"Did he pay?" Would be one of the first questions a friend would ask afterwards.
If yes, then,"O good, is he good looking? Is he nice?"
If no, she would (all) say, "dump him."

I don't want to be spending my future with someone, be it long term or short term and dividing up money. The worse is when the bill comes, he says, you had more wine than me, plus a dessert so I only owe this much. Gah! This actually happens a lot! This is where I say - forget it - !

Chivalry should not be forgotten. Opening doors and general politeness goes a long way. And girls always love to receive flowers! Very Good. Thank you! More Please!

Love & Other Afflictions: First Kiss

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 19:25:00 +0000

The Look Of Love - (Upcoming Art Exhibition By Leluu & Fatine)

That moment, the moment at the end of the night when its time to go home… comes the moment of awkwardness. Is he going to kiss me? Is he not going to kiss me? Where will he kiss me? How shall I behave? Is my breath smelling ok?

The worst is when you are not so into the person and they are really keen. He is having full helm of the situation despite you giving him all the No- please-don't-touch-me signals. He goes for it and most of the times when you least expect it like whilst crossing the road or whilst you are in the middle of giving him the cold shoulder with some speech about how busy you are and your heads crash into each other or his teeth bangs onto your lips or he simply ends up licking your face. Yuck! Sometimes you don't know whether to kiss him back to be polite or deck him. (Depends on how dry your season is I guess).

Sometimes, he doesn't try to kiss you at all and you think? What the hell? I am never brave enough to kiss him. So I just let it be. If he doesn't get in contact, then its because he didn't want to kiss you in the first place. No point rushing it and making a jack arse of yourself. Plenty of fish…in the…(wait! even fish is getting limited)!

But when you fancy the guy and he asks if he can kiss you or kisses you at the right moment, when you are ready and its brilliant. Its just brilliant! More brilliant if his eyes are closed, he caresses your hair and holds your face and kisses slowly and nicely - (not like he's trying to dig his way down to Australia)!

And he goes home and you go home. Both smiling. And you can smell him on your face. Hmmm. : ) Knowing there will be a second date.

The Best of 2011

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 13:49:00 +0000

A full packed brilliant year - it was the start of (just) Leluu and the end of Fernandez & Leluu

Jamie Oliver and I did a supper club together: Leluu & Oliver

I started the Vietnamese Cooking Classes

ALMOST had Feist at my cooking class!

Said Goodbye to stuff

Did great singles nights My Singles' Valentine

But fell ill from hard work and stress and ended up in Homerton Hospital : (

Read the best book ever The History Of Love which developed my thoughts, views and hopefully writing skills and also did great creative writing classes.

Still kept running the supper club with great Vietnamese dishes like it was Secret Saigon In London
and made many people happy in their bellies and full in spirits.

I went to Vietnam and reflected on belonging Flying Home: My Trip To Vietnam 2011

I showed Tim Hayward how to Cook Pho With Tim Hayward For The FT

I went to Berlin to be with my best friends for a 40th birthday party Happy Birthday To Daddy

I had an amazing Courvoisier Punch Birthday Party

photo by Paul Winch Furness

Co founded Grazing Asia At Jamie Oliver's Test Kitchen - a supper club with 4 cooks from Japan, Malaysia, Burma and Vietnam.

I got to meet Meeting Stanley Tse - from Seewoo and worked on recipes for their Way On Chilli Oil Brand, Pearl River Bridge and Seewoo hampers Leluu For Seewoo

I went to California for my grandparent's 60th anniversary and found out about the history of our family, after the war and our flights to freedom

The Monsoon, Bun Bo Hue, Elephant Man & My Uncle Thu
Stories from Uncle Thu, His Escape From Vietnam
Blood Cakes & Banana Blossom

I went to visit my friend in Hollywood, whose about to release a movie in 2012 called Project X
My Night With Nima Nourizadeh

When I came back to London, I witnessed the London Riots happen right outside my front door - it was a sad week for all.

I spent most of the year being single and loved it
A Single Serendipity
When We Were The Greatest, Rolling In The Deep & Two Weddings

I met a boy, had the best time but it was short lived.
Had the best meal of the year in Cinquecento - 500

Francesco Mazzei & his boy

Had lunch with Francesco Mazzei and his lovely family.
and a superb evening at Viajante - A Tour Of The Town Hall With Nuno Mendes

Started to write: Love & Other Afflictions

In between, I cried, laughed and moaned. Always wishing for more, ate a hell of a lot, worked like a slave to myself, ruined relationships, burnt bridges and built long lasting friendships, love, lost my temper, walked the dogs and kept loading and unloading the darn dishwasher and formed an art to filling it up to the max and getting everything sparkling clean.At Christmas, I lost a boy.

Love & Other Afflictions: Christmas & Gifts

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 20:27:00 +0000

Carp for pre Christmas dinner

I often get extremely excited about Christmas. I love giving gifts, I love receiving gifts and I love being festive. I've been invited to spend Christmas with boyfriend's families and experienced the majestic white christmases in an Austrian barn with a 20 foot trees, decorated with real candles, home baked cookies. They would have a turkey so huge, you couldn't see the shrivelled sweet old grandmother from across the table and with so much gift giving that it surfaces the whole lounge, (one area per person) and takes 3 hours to unwrap. The mother would spend a whole month arranging the perfect Christmas for her boys, even though they were not children anymore and what she did was magical.

It was a serious thing to be invited to spend Christmas with the potential in-laws but for me, it was also a gateway to the Christmas my mother would never be able to give my brother and I. Don't get me wrong, she did her best when she could. We had real Christmas trees to the fake ones, to the very luxurious fake ones with beautiful decorations and presents but for most of my young life, I got the feeling that we did not belong. We spent our lives in the middle of the world with people who had different cultural values. My mother's family in Vietnam and my father's family in America. We always felt like we had been cast away - there were just the three of us on an island and Christmas was a way to remind us that we actually had no family.

My mother would spend Christmas with her best friends who also, didn't have family in England, and combined, they were our family. We used to spend a week at her friend's house and they would chat about food, make food, where to buy food and gossip. And so, when I was invited to spend Christmas away, my mother would be happy for me, to get away from a "poor house's christmas". She always wanted me to have better things.

Baked with Onion, Ginger, Lemon. Added Soy, Butter & Rosemary

But an outsider was still what I really felt whilst being at these different families' homes on Christmas without my own. I observed and I smiled and I ate the dry turkeys, and opened thoughtful and un-thoughful gifts, sometimes feeling the love from the boy I was with and sometimes feeling it fade and fade.

I once felt the love fade so much that to my surprise, the boy tapped his glass with a knife and said, "I have an announcement to make: Leluu and I are getting married next year."

I felt my face on fire, my smile nervously wobbled. Was that a proposal? The mother, a beautiful aged version of Grace Kelly, screeched her congratulations and hugged us both in what I can remember as with her claws digging into my back. The family roared in shock and champagne flutes were clinked and I looked the boy in the eyes from across the room and he looked away.

We broke up that year and he married someone else soon after. He probably offered her a ring.

Lego for The Boy From Alassio. I think he loved it.

I would often spend Christmas doing a tour at friend's houses. I'd go to my (Polish) friend, Aggie's house and we'd have the carp, herring, sour cream and the traditional works on Christmas Eve, and they would even buy presents for me and my dogs and we would even take bread together and give thanks to each other and then go to my Spanish friend, Fatima's house where her parents would invite the entire Spanish neighbourhood of Arsenal over and we'd eat a whole roasted salmon, turkey and greasy Spanish things. Chorizo with everything!

Talking of Spanish, I once gave a boy a watch because he was often late but also because it was a beautiful watch and a Hugo Boss bag because it was better than carrying a blue plastic bag around and always forgetting your keys, wallet or phone. I was so excited to give it to him and he was happy to receive it but after 3 bottles of wine, he said that although I was very kind for giving him such expensive gifts and they were beautiful, he didn't want it because, "that would break if I go rock climbing or deep sea diving." (he doesn't do either). He concluded by telling me I was an idiot and drove me to leave the house on Christmas morning and it took me 2 hours to walk home with all the gifts in tears. But at least it was sunny. I opened his gift and it was a book, "How To Stop Worrying & Do More."

I soon came to discover that spending money on gifts is an issue for some boys. They feel uncomfortable that I would spend money on them because simply, they wouldn't spend it on me. Money, somehow gets in the way of generosity, although a meaningful present doesn't have to cost anything.

Is it better to do less at first and give more later? I don't know… but this year, I am alone for Christmas. No tour. No in laws. My family came round and cooked me a lovely roast lunch and they left, because they should be with other people and party and enjoy when they can. It is hard for others to understand how that is totally, just OK. That's what I love about my mother and my brother. In the end, we just care about each other's happiness and enjoyment. I know they will always be there for me, but they don't have to watch Christmas television with me.

I am waiting to host a majestic Christmas of my own and with my family. One year, it will come.

Leluu For Seewoo

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 21:26:00 +0000

After meeting Stanley Tse and his daughter Lucy Mitchell at a lunch, my favourite oriental supermarket, Seewoo, asked me to write recipes and take photos for them. So I created 8 Chinese recipes and 8 Vietnamese recipes all for their Christmas hampers.

I gave them the idea for the hampers when I was talking about my Vietnamese cooking classes. I take everyone shopping and introduce people to my favourite ingredients, the cupboard essentials for Vietnamese cooking.

And so, they created the hampers and I had the pleasure in writing a few recipes for them and taking photos - my favourite thing! Click here to buy the Vietnamese hamper

You can buy them on the Seewoo website as Christmas gifts or anytime around the year for your favourite person! My recipes are included.

Laurent Perrier In The GreenHouse

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000

The car drove me from Hackney through to Mayfair and Bond Street. Christmas lights were already up, sparkling away in cold London town. We stood still in rush hour traffic and I marveled at all the designer shops as I window shopped in a black car. For a moment, I pretended to be wealthy, imagined myself top to toe in Armani and Mui Mui with Prada shoes and a Mulberry purse, smelling of Dior. But in actual fact, I was wearing clothes I made, in replica of my designer heros, made by a tailor in Saigon, fabric I bought from a market. I was on my way to a Laurent Perrier event at The GreenHouse, hidden in a residential mews of Mayfair.

I haven't been to a blogger/ press event in ages. Been busy supper clubbing, teaching and being with people I know and like. It has been over 18 months since I first went to them, one of them being a Champagne Afternoon Tea at The Dorchester with Laurent Perrier. For the desire of the champagne, I went and what better than to a Michelin starred restaurant, for a five course meal from Head Chef Antonin Bonnet, worth £240/ head with champagne matching. Why the hell not?!

Pleasant. Pleasant to see familiar faces, from the lovely David Hesketh - Master Of Wine, MD of Laurent Perrier UK to the blogger supremes - Chris Pople, Food Stories, Hugh Wright, A Girl Has To Eat, Slow Food Kitchen and so forth. Disappointed not to see Algernon Moncrief though.

Chris Pople, David Hesketh, Lucy London

Each course was paired with a Laurent Perrier champagne: Ultra Brut, Millésimé 2002, Grand Cuvée - Grand Siècle, Demi-Sec and Cuvée Rosé. The meal was great! Everything was of course cooked very well and offered what fine dinning offers - mainly lobster! and that is just fine.

My companion, Ernest Yang Opoku and I couldn't stop buttering the lovely selection of bread for our fair share of carbs to absorb at least 7 glasses of champagne. I would be happy if someone took me here for dinner (although I do wish fine dinning would explore more of the Eastern taste explosion avenue) but until I am all in Chanel, it will be a long time before it would be possible to return.

Apple Cider Marinated Mackerel, Horseradish Snow & Pickled Black Radish

Atlantic Cod, Leek Fondue, Smoked Potato, Yuzu & Champagne Sauce

Poached Scottish Lobster, Cep Mushroom Ravioli, Chicken Oyster Bisque

Rhubarb & Apple Milefeuille

Treats

A lovely but formal evening, thanks to WildCard PR for having me because they know I love champagne. I really do.

Love & Other Afflictions: Table Manners

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 18:58:00 +0000

When a boy offers you the last of something tasty, scraps all of the fish meat from the bone and gives you the last bit (that he really wants) he's a keeper. My mother says you can judge a person by their table manners and their relationship with food: how generous they are as a person and with money, how they like to share or not to share, how diverse and adventurous they are and basically if they care about you at all and how self centred they are or are not.

When boys open doors, pulls a chair out or gets up because you need to go to the powder room in a formal restaurant - its amazing to be treated like a princess. Its a change to the various mishaps I have had in my life.

After 60 years together, my grandparents still hold hands at the table

There have been many incidences over the years of my bringing home a boy and he mis behaves at the table. I had always had such high hopes for the boys but they would show their true colours at the dinner table and there wasn't anything anyone can do to hide the hues.

Sometimes, it happens straight away but sometimes, it lurks and only years or months after you have fallen in love and decided to be in a relationship or worse, move in with the person, the manners topple.

It is never polite in a Vietnamese culture to hoard food from the table onto your bowl or dish. When there are dishes of food on the table for sharing, they are meant for sharing and it is never customary to take half a fillet of the fish and plonk it onto your own bowl. We are only to take what we would eat there and then and come back for more.

So when a boy does that, it is forgivable because he doesn't know our culture, but if he hurriedly and repeatedly commits the crime and snatches the food whilst someone else is trying to get at it, its a No! There have been so many times when I am trying to pick up a piece of meat or fish with my chopsticks and he just snatches it from me like some sort of a weasel, with no shame whatsoever and throws it into his mouth like a thief. He would even chuckle at his success, especially when he takes a piece from your chopsticks in mid air.

There was one who took all of the meaty duck onto his plate and left the boney bits. Or the one who says, I can't deal with bones so I am not going to eat it; did you put any sugar in that? If so, I'll make something else…

The worst one was over Tet, a Lunar New Year celebration where traditional food must be cooked and eaten, a boy sat down at the table, had a look at everything including a whole duck, spring rolls, New Years cake and the works and said, I am not eating that, sorry, I fancy a roast and got up and made a whole roast dinner. What the hell? That ruined the new year celebrations and cursed the year to come. Our relationship was of course, doomed.

My uncle and his sons when we visited LA

Order a hot pot and do the sharing test

Sharing food is one of the most important things in the Vietnamese culture and I love the way one can display a stream of affection in one meal. First of all, by cooking it with love and always picking up the meatiest tastiest slice of pork belly or fish flesh and offering it to the one you are most affectionate with - a special guest, a young child, a parent, a sibling, a lover.

Loud discussions over dinner are always welcomed but eating in silence and shared solitude is also enjoyed. There needs to be no song nor dance because to just enjoy food together seems to be enough when you share everything.

A rare picture of people at the dinner table (back in the day)

My cousins In Vietnam

It is great news when the boy brings and offers food, like oysters or dessert and even a bottle of champagne because he loves food, he loves eating and he loves to share it all with you and he would try anything you make, eat it all even if sometimes he doesn't even like it.

If he goes one step further and makes a home cooked meal of many courses, made with love and care, it is definitely more romantic than eating out. He has everything prepped and ready, everything cleared and cleaned up - and just finishes off and serves you. I love it.

What about when a boy cooks for you and its a disaster? I have been invited to dinner at 6, had to wait in the pub with his mother and brother because he's off drinking somewhere else till 1030 -and we are waiting…for a long time... now thats a bit awkward and boring too… to be continued…

Cinquecento - 500

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 22:00:00 +0000

I love a bit of fine dinning every now and again but when I discover a restaurant that is all about serving great and delicious food - I am happier than ever and I would choose this over any posh nosh.

We couldn't get tickets to see Lana Del Rey when she was playing at The Scala, so The Boy From Alassio booked us a table for two at 'Cinquecento' - meaning, 500, inspired by the beautiful classic Fiat 500.

Fiat 500 spotted in Wandsworth

Tucked behind one of the very few trees on Holloway Road by Archway station, is this quite uninspiring place. It doesn't look terrible but it doesn't look great, kinda like being in Italy's restaurants. However, it is filled with people and that is usually the best sign, especially for being in such a location.

My favourite dish was the tagliatelle with white truffle - it was one of the most amazing things I have ever eaten for around £19. Then we had venison and the veal scallopini - both topped with black truffle for an extra £5.50 - it was packed with truffle- amazing value.

Everything we had was made very well, like it was made with love, understanding and generousity.

One of the best Italian meals I have ever had is here.
Highly recommended. The Boy From Alassio will kill me for not being able to keep a secret.

Venision With Black Truffle

500 Restaurant
782 Holloway Road
London
N19 3JH
www.500restaurant.co.uk

Viajante - A Tour Of The Town Hall With Nuno Mendes

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 18:41:00 +0000

Nuno Mendes

Last week, I had the pleasure of dinning at Viajante, Bethnal Green with Douglas Blyde (journalist), Christopher Turner (editor of Icon and Cabinet Magazine) and Signe Bindslev Henriksen and Peter Bundgaard Rützou - (the designers of Noma - the world's best restaurant). They had spontaneously taken a trip to London (their home town Copenhagen).

Signe Bindslev Henriksen and Peter Bundgaard Rützou

We had the six course menu, plus many other surprises along the way with wine matching all in presence of Nuno Mendes standing quietly but gloriously by his mute yet theatrical open plan kitchen room.

I had previously been to Viajante when it first opened for lunch and often for cocktails. What I had this time was entirely marvelous, (except for a couple of natural wines that tasted too BoHo for me). It was indeed an experience to indulge in, to take pleasure of, to give time for… each plate arrived with tastes that intrigued my tongue of notes wonderfully combined.

I only wish I had scribbled what we ate. I was pleased there was no menu, everything explained and it was all a surprise. I love this way of dinning, similar to The Loft Project and also similar to what I do at my own supper club.

It had passed midnight and everyone was packing up for the night when Nuno Mendes, showed us around the The Town Hall: his hotel, conference rooms, private rooms and The Corner Room. This was a rare and special treat to have a tour by the man himself.

Nuno Mendes presents himself immaculate in his chef whites with a pair of tweezers on his black apron and has the aura of a quiet Japanese man seeping in calm and zen. He speaks in a gentle voice and smiles with his entire face - his eyes curve, even his pupils smiles. But as he toured us around the corridors and stairwells, I notice his ripped jeans and boxers sneaking through the chef whites. It made him all the more humane and incredible because he was wearing comfortable sandals.

He tells us his personal likes and dislikes of the design, the space and how it is combined. His ambitions to regain perfection will be endless as he embraces the spirit and soul of The Town Hall - you can feel his arms wrapped around the place with all of his love.

Nuno Mendes, Signe Bindslev Henriksen, Christopher Turner, Douglas Blyde

Peter Bundgaard Rützou

The Corner Room

Hotel Swimming Pool

Viajante

Patriot Square

Bethnal Green
London E2 9NF
+44 (0) 20 7871 0461
www.viajante.co.uk

The Hinds Head

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 16:41:00 +0000

Douglas Blyde took me to Bray to Heston Blumenthal's The Hind's Head for lunch. I am a lucky bunny!

I loved the pea and ham soup which was made cold and only heated just before it reached our table. The scotch egg was crunchy, well seasoned and delightful. I also had the mackerel (very much resembles the saba nigiri ) with a bright beetroot and the veal chop was tender, cooked well to my liking with a jug of sauce on the side and tripled fried chips. Portions were huge but you would hope so with the the price tag.

Douglas interviewed Kevin Love, Head Chef - intensely interesting to meet the man who cooked your food. Kevin is a tall man, well groomed and softly spoken with a passion for law and order in his reign. We also got to see the kitchen.

What a great treat for me! Full Full Belly Rub.

Heston's Table

The Hinds Head, Bray
http://www.hindsheadbray.com

Leluu & Oliver

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 15:41:00 +0000

I love Jamie Oliver, I have always loved him and I have grown up with him via the television and he is my hero. He is not just a hero chef but he is an activist, a phenomenon, he moves our society to the better.

The universe, the guardian angel or the gods have a way of taking me through to the magnitudes of depths and glorious blooms of this life. Stories vary from one polar opposite to another. Here is a story of a day I will never forget, a day of great happiness and exhilaration, the day I first met Jamie Oliver. Only in my dreams did I imagine him in my home, filming with him. I planted the idea in a cosmic order and it happened!

I have been wanting to tell about the day Jamie came over, had a basic Vietnamese cooking lesson, cooked with me for a supper club and served it to our guests. It was one of the best days of my life. I wanted to shout about it for an entire year but couldn't because it was due to be aired for Jamie's Great Britain.

Last October, on a specific leaden, murky and lachrymose day, my mother called me. She was always worried about the tangles of weeds I was buried under as my relationship at the time crippled in fierce hostility. This made me the more irritated to receive the call.

Listen to me, she yelled. Jamie Oliver! The guy from the TV, you have to call him!
Eh? Say again?!
He's looking for you! He's looking for a young foodie who knows about Vietnamese food.
What? Are you pulling my leg? Why would they call you and not me? Or get in contact via my blog? I don't believe you! Why are you playing a joke on me?

Me, Jamie & My Mum

The thing is, my mother has a funny way of intuition and has a great knack of making destiny. For no good reason other than lunch, she went to The Vietnamese Community Centre a few weeks back to brag about me, how I run these supper clubs and how pleased she was that people are getting to eat good Pho.

Fresh One, Jamie's production team went to the community centre to ask if they knew of a young immigrant whose grown up in London and yet is passionate about Vietnamese food. Mr Vu Khanh Thanh, MBE, the founder of the Community Centre, said, yes, I know someone, there is this girl called Leluu. He helped my mother settle in London with her two small children with housing and education in the early 80s, he had rarely seen me since I became an adult. He didn't have my number, but my mother left him hers.

And so, I was interviewed by the researcher, the director, the producer and within a few days, Fresh One camped outside the flat, there were 3 or 4 cameras in my kitchen and one downstairs, sound, assistants, lighting, grip, production manager - the whole works.

I spent the day with the food team, Ginny styled my flat, we got all the ingredients ready and everyone was setting up their stations while Mildred, my mini schnauzer, stuck on the sofa was barking away at all the commotion.

I wasn't nervous during the day but as time got on and I knew that I was going to see Jamie and that he was coming to my kitchen, I was getting so nervous. I did my hair and makeup and vainly asked Ginny to tell me when I was starting to get shiney as it was getting hot under all those lights. I went to get some air. I opened the door and saw how there were many vans and people running around. Noise of a film set.

Hello! You must be Uyen. I'm Jamie Oliver. I've heard so much about you!

I was so shocked. I extended my hand which were cold and his were warm. Great hand shake with two kisses. No one expected me to meet him, that wasn't the plan- yet! I told Jamie how I was so pleased to meet him, how I loved him since we were both young and how I watched him all these years.

Good! He said. So this has worked out well for the both of us.

From then on, we were like old chums, chatting chatting like we were old friends catching up - Is that your fella? (its complicated) Is this your photography stuff? (yes) Is this your house? (yes) How long have you lived here (years) etc etc.

But we were indeed, strangers, and I was then to tell Jamie about our immigrant lives.

Mr Vu & his daughter Linh - Owner of Namo

Mrs Linh & Jamie

Banh Mi 11 Girls & Jamie

They filmed us making summer rolls, pho, spring rolls and banh xeo while Jamie was asking questions of my childhood, how we came to England, the history of the Vietnam war, what happened to the people afterwards. He was very moved and very interested in the whole story. My mother was there and he met my brother. He said that him and I sound like proper Londoners. Well, we have lived in London for 30 years, quite a long time.

We talked about yin and yang, the hot and cold elements in food. I gave him civet cat coffee and explained to him how its actually coffee that the civet cat poos out. It was hilarious!

Meanwhile, my friends gathered like a pile of sardines quietly on the stairs eavesdropping. I went to powder my nose and they all waved in extreme excitement quietly with their mouths smiling like it was also the happiest day of their lives.

Jamie and I plated up the food and he bought it down with Mia and I to the guests (some close friends and Vietnamese friends of my mother) waiting downstairs.

Mia & Jamie

My Mum, Aggie & Co Duyen

He ate with us, we chatted to my mother's friends and Mr Vu about how they escaped Vietnam, what happened to the people who were left behind to the ones at sea. I translated for them, how Mrs Linh's family were murdered by Pol Pot to Vietnamese traditions and eating ettiquettes.

Jamie was incredible and a very humble person. He is a people's person. He was so in tune with what anyone would say, listened and took it all in.

Jamie chatting to everyone after dinner

He loved the supper club, how I set it out. Mike Sarah, did wonders to my garden by planting beautiful fairy lights everywhere. Jamie could have sat there talking to us for hours over a bowl of pho and all the things we made. Your wife and children are waiting for you, said his personal assistant. But they must be asleep by now - can I have 20 more minutes?

Jamie asked me if I wanted to open a restaurant. I said no. I said, I am a film maker, a photographer - thats what I want to do.

I want to go to Vietnam. He said.
Jamie Does Vietnam. I said. I would like to come with you.
OK.

I went to Mersea where Jamie filmed. He cooked me fish. I made him a prawn salad with carrot and green papaya (similar to this). I even got to go inside The Cock In Cider. Marvellous!

This did not get through to the final cut. The gods have other plans. I continue to love Jamie Oliver.

Feisty

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 09:51:00 +0000

I was introduced to Feist back in 2006 by a lovely French/ Belgium girl called Caroline who used to work in my boutique. We played the entire Let It Die over and over and then carried on playing The Reminder, singing and listening to every note of Feist's silky, succulent voice like it being the voice of our souls. I take Feist everywhere I go, and now I am taking her superb, intricate and lacy album Metals into my doors and mesmerising at its acute, filmic stories and musical arrangements.

I love Feist because her voice is like satin or something nice and smooth but sometimes her songs, her music, the way she sings things cuts into me like a tailor's scissors right into the depths of my fabric heart.

As I found out that Feist was coming to London, I said to a friend who was talking about Chilly Gonzales wanting a good bowl of 'pho' how wonderful it would be if Feist and Chilly Gonzales were to come to the supper club because I can give them, pho.

A few days prior to the concert, which I was booked to see, I got an email saying, "I am the social coordinator for Feist and am wondering if you have any space available in your class …"

Imagine! my disbelief and excitement! Feist - my heroine in my house - the place where I play her songs at least once a day for years and years. She wants to learn about Vietnamese cooking with me?! Whoa!!

But after two days of sending emails back and forth, it didn't happen. I think she ended up doing the Jools Holland show instead.

I went to see Feist at The London Palladium, (she doesn't like playing big venues) on her one night in London. No thrills, just magic! One woman entrancing the entire theatre into stillness, into a lost in time, in space, a Feist space - "how come you never go there?"

As she played, solo, her guitar to The Bad In Each Other my arms flared in goose bumps. It was like, she found out everything there is to know and put it in songs. They turned every popular old song into another arrangement - something dark, something ironic, something poetic, something feisty.

These are only moments you can treasure. To think, she was meant to be coming over. Leslie Feist in my home. Feist and me. How would she be? Would I stumble into speechlessness to be in her presence? Maybe next Spring upon her return to London, I am told to expect.

Here's to wishing… I hope Feist continues to read my blog. I love her. I really do.

check her website for great film clips

http://www.listentofeist.com

Eating, Little Sardegna, Francesco Mazzei & Wishing

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 16:26:00 +0000

Francesco Mazzei & his son

On sunny days, I often think of my time in Cervo, the Liguria region of Northern Italy. I went there about three times a year during my 7 year courtship with the Hungarian Count. I could easily indulge in "eat", pray, love whenever I wanted, and I did.

My favourite dishes where always octopus salad with sauteed potatoes, crispy on the edges with rosemary, drizzles of great olive oil and a generous squeeze of a yellow sunny lemon. Then I would have spaghetti with (just) tomato sauce and plenty of parmesan. It was all in a dated restaurant by the beach with slightly greasy plastic table cloths, bread sticks in wrappers and oily containers of vinegar and olive oil. The salt shaker had brown rice in it and the chubby middle aged waitress half smiles, "buon giorno…" because its too hot for a full smile.

After lunch, I would go back to the rocks of Portoghetto with a current dog eared, wet and salty book. I would crisp in the sun, my then youthful twenty-something unblemished skin would shimmer in sweat and lotion with the lit up water of the sea, twinkling like glitter. It would be hot and I would only think of basil, tomato and mozzarella salad with ciabatta and more good good olive oil, salt and pepper and an olive or two.

Italy is one of my favourite destinations in the world, mostly because I just love Italian food. The simplicity of it is divine and pleasurable to my every sense. And so, when the sun shines in London, I often wish I can go to Italy or I would close my eyes for a moment and imagine standing on the hill tops of some place in Liguria and listen to the sweeping shores lazily fold toward me. I can imagine the sip of cold crisp white Chardonnay and eat ravoli filled full with spinach and ricotta, coated in tons of butter and fresh sage; followed by (because I am greedy and I eat with my desire) roasted lemon chicken.

I wished this on a sunny Sunday morning to the ears of a Boy From Alassio (near Genova) and he said, lets go and have all that you wish to eat.

We drove to Highbury Hill, in the Figaro, almost like a scene from Felini. (It was where I grew up - its not Italy but indulge with me). We stopped to look at furniture and interiors boutiques on Blackstock Road, dreaming for the perfect home with the absolute beauty of a lampshade or a glass table or a chair or a set of grappa glasses.

And then, as destiny has it, we landed on Francesco Mazzei - (acclaimed Italian chef of L’Anima), who happened to be sitting by the open shop front of a lovely Italian restaurant called 'Little Sardegna' with his wife and children. The Boy From Alassio and Francesco knew each other and Francesco invited us to join the family for lunch.

Francesco, his beautiful wife Maria and their two stunning children live around the corner and regularly visit Little Sardegna - a charming place that only remind me of being in Italy. All it needs is a view of cobble streets and some clothes blowing gently in the wind on a clothes line and few cats staring at height from windows and a mama sweeping the outside of her family home with a twiggy broom.

Marcello - Chef 'Little Sardegna'

Francesco Mazzei & his son

(Not knowing I had wished for them), Francesco ordered absolutely everything I asked for that morning, including the loveliest wines, as Marcello, the head chef and owner of Little Sardegna kept bringing them out as he cooked them. We dished up each other's plates, poured wine into each other's glasses, laughed a lot, talked a lot and of course, someone would always spill something or drop cutlery and there would be a small roar.

Francesco would talk loudly, expressively and passionately whilst his little son would climb all over his father's body like a monkey and Maria, a tired yet deliciously beautiful mother would speak gently to me about girls stuff like fashion and colours that suit. Mia Sofia, their pretty little daughter dressed as a pink fairy danced around (they had been at a party previously), falling over - nearly crying and then giggling again in the afternoon Autumn light of North London.

Mia Sofia

Marcello's food tasted like it was made with pride, care and love. Proper good stuff, done the right way. He showed us how he started to paint someone eating spaghetti on the wall of his restaurant, then changed his mind, painted something else over it and then decided it was all crap and stuck another painting on top. We could only laugh our heads off with adoration.

A simple wish of Italy was answered. We didn't have to go to Italy, it came to us.
I continue to make wishes and highly recommend eating at Little Sardegna.

170 Blackstock Road, London N5 1HA
0207 354 4500
info@littlesardegna.com
www.littlesardegna.com

Banana & Tapioca Pudding With Coconut Milk Infused in Pandan

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 09:44:00 +0000

Chè Chuối

Ingredients - For 4

2 bananas
2 pandan leaves -
200ml coconut milk
50g tapioca
50g large tapioca pearls
90g rock sugar - 1.5 sugar sticks
400 ml water

Bring the water to the boil with the rock sugar and pandan leaves. Add tapioca after the water has boiled. When the tapioca is translucent, add the sliced bananas and coconut milk. Cook for a further 5 minutes. Remove pandan leaves. When the bananas are slightly soft and you are content with the sweetness its ready to be served, hot.

This recipe has been commissioned by Seewoo

Fried Red Tilapia With Mango

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 23:01:00 +0000

Ingredients - For 2

1 red tilapia
1/4 un-riped green mango

Sauce/ Dressing
2 tbs cider vinegar
2 tbs sugar
2 tbs premium quality fish sauce
2 x cloves minced finely chopped
2 x birdseye chilli finely chopped

Method
Clean the fish and shallow fry on low/medium on a frying pan 10 minutes on each side or until golden and crispy.
Meanwhile, prepare the sauce by adding all the ingredients together, taste and balance for the right sweet, sour and salty flavour.
Julienne the mango and lay out on a serving dish. When the fish is cooked, place the fish on top of the mango and pour over the sauce.

Serve with steamed rice.
Other fish options: flat fish such as lemon sole, dab, brill, black tilapia, red snapper.

This recipe has been commissioned by Seewoo

Prawn Salad With Carrot, Mango, Banana Blossom & Hot Mint (Gio)

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 23:01:00 +0000

Ingredients for 4

300g king prawns
300g julienne carrots
100g julienne unriped mango
3 shallots sliced
1 tbs cider vinegar
50g banana blossom (optional)
50g hot mint (rau ram)- de-stalked
coriander for garnish
sliced chilli for garnish

Sauce/ Dressing
2 tbs cider vinegar
2 tbs sugar
2 tbs premium quality fish sauce
1 x clove minced finely chopped
1 x birdseye chilli finely chopped
2 heap tbs crushed peanuts

Method
Poach the prawns in boiling salted water and peel when cooked (about a minute).
Prep the salad ingredients. Pickle the shallots with a table spoon of cider vinegar, sugar and pepper and mix the sauce ingredients together. Toss the carrot, mango and banana blossom together with the dressing, then coarsely cut the hot mint into the mixture and add the prawns.

Serve immediately with crushed peanuts and coriander on prawn crackers. Also great in baguettes. You can also use chicken or squid instead of prawns and use sweet basil, mint or coriander instead of hot mint.

TIP: Make sure all your ingredients are dry, for example, do not put the carrots through a blender as it becomes soggy.

Vietnamese Spring Rolls By Leluu

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 12:29:00 +0000

Spring Rolls - [Chả giò]

Ingredients makes 50 rolls

1 x spring roll pastry 5'
150g minced pork shoulder
500g peeled, de-veined king prawns, coarsely chopped
250g julienne carrots
40g sliced black fungus mushrooms- soak for an hour
1/2 bulb garlic
100g glass noodle (soak in cold water for less than 10 mins)
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
1 tsp pepper
100g julienne yam (optional)
50g sliced shitake - soak for an hour (optional)
50g bean-sprouts (optional)

Sauce/ Dressing
8 tbs hot water
4 tbs cider vinegar
4 tbs sugar
4 tbs premium quality fish sauce
2 x cloves minced finely chopped
2 x birdeye chilli finely chopped

Prep all the ingredients, soak the dry ingredients and slice when they are rehydrated. The glass noodles should also be cut shorter to about 2 inches long. Make sure all the ingredients are dry so that it does not cause the spring roll pastry to go soggy.

Mix together well and season with salt, pepper and sugar.Test a small portion. When you are perfectly happy with the flavour, make the rolls by adding a tablespoon of the mixture onto the wrapper, fold the corners to make an envelop and roll as tightly as possible, sealing the lid with some oil.

Deep fry for about 4 mins at 140° or until golden brown. Serve with lettuce and herbs - roll the lettuce around the spring roll and dip into fish sauce dressing. Can also be served with a cold vermicelli salad.

This recipe has been commissioned by Seewoo

Canh Chua - My Sunshine Soup

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Sat, 17 Sep 2011 16:39:00 +0000

Canh Chua is one of my favourite Vietnamese soups. Always best when my mother makes it and we share it together over some steamed rice. The whole fish then goes into a separate plate with good fish sauce and crushed birsdeye chillis. Its a sweet, sour and hot fish soup. Sometimes, I even use chicken stock instead of water to give it more depth. It is very quick to prepare and it always reminds me of my mum's happy face, the sunshine and being in Vietnam - standing at the edge of water, on sand and flying my kite.

Ingredients for 4
2 fillet of seabass/ or whole seabass/ seabream/ salmon
2 tomatoes quartered
1/4 pineapple - cubed
12 inch stick of taro toot (also called elephant ear) (optional) - peeled and thinly sliced
50g beansprouts
10g rice paddy herb or coriander/ sweet basil/ vietnamese parsley - crossly chopped
1 lime
1 tps sugar
1 tbs fish sauce
500ml water (good quality chicken stock - optional)
1 chilli - sliced
2 small shallots - diced
2 cloves garlic - finely chopped

Method
In a large sauce pan, bring water to boil then add tomatoes, pineapple and the juice of a lime. Add sugar and fish sauce. Taste and adjust the balance. Add more sour if it is too sweet, more sugar if too salty and more salty if too sweet. Bring to the boil for a further 2 minutes then add the fillet or a whole fish - bring to the boil again for another 2 minutes.

In a separate frying pan, brown off the shallots then add the garlic.
in a serving bowl, add the raw beansprouts, taro root and chilli. Then add the fried shallots and garlic on top.

Once the soup is ready, pour the entire contents into the serving bowl. The hot broth should cook the beansprouts and the taro root soaks in the broth like a crunchy sponge.

Sprinkle the herbs on top. Serve with steamed rice, with vermicelli or on its own.
You can also use prawns, squid and different types of seafood as an option. Fish heads always bring out a great flavour or not at all for Vegetarians.

This recipe has been commissioned by Seewoo.

Chargrilled Pork Belly With Lemongrass & Cold Vermicelli Salad

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 06:00:00 +0000

Ingredients - Serves 4

300g pork belly or pork shoulder
2 x lemongrass
2 x shallots
2 x cloves garlic
1 tbs honey
1/4 tbs salt
1 tps pork seasoning
1 tbs terriyaki
4 x discs vermicelli

Salad/ Garnish
pickled carrots (julienne, add cider vinegar, pinch of sugar)
cockscombe mint
perilla
coriander
sweet basil
lettuce
cucumber sliced/ julienne
pickled leeks (optional)
peanut (optional)

Sauce/ Dressing
4 tbs hot water
4 tbs cider vinegar
4 tbs sugar
4 tbs premium quality fish sauce
2 x cloves minced finely chopped
2 x birdeye chilli finely chopped

Method
Chop the pork belly into bite sized pieces.
Finely chop the lemongrass, shallots and garlic. Add honey, salt, seasoning and teriyaki, mix well and rub onto the pork pieces.
Marinade in fridge for 20 minutes, then slide onto skewers.
Place in a preheated oven (180) for 20 minutes or until golden brown.

Place dry noodles in a bowl and pour over boiling water, close with a lid. The vermicelli should cook itself within 10-15 minutes. Check regularly. Once it is cooked, drain with cold water.

Prepare the dressing by adding and mixing all the ingredients together.

Prepare the fresh garnish ingredients which serves as the salad to this dish. Traditionally, the garnish is placed underneath the noodles and the meat goes on top with the pickled carrots.

Serve as a cold noodle dish with hot meat, sprinkle with peanuts. The dressing should be in a small separate bowl for each person to pour on and then mixed together.

This recipe has been commissioned by Seewoo

Beef Pho Recipe

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Thu, 15 Sep 2011 13:54:00 +0000

I love Pho. Love it! Love it!

For a large stock pot - serves 8-10 bowls

Ingredients

Stock & Cooked Meat
2 x large onion – halved and charred
2 thumbs of x ginger – halved and charred
20 x star anise
2tbs mix of fennel seeds. coriander seeds, cassia bark, cinnamon
1 x mooli
1 x carrot
90g rock sugar
salt/ pepper
4 x large cuts of ox tail
1kg beef flank
1 x beef bib or bones
fish sauce (3 crabs)
1 litre free range chicken stock
5 litres water

Noodles
1 x fresh ho-fun noodles serves 2-3 or 1 pack x dry rose brand pho noodles
Blanched in boiling water or rehydrated.

Meat Optional
fillet/ sirloin or rump steak - thinly sliced
chicken
tripe

Garnish
1 x lemon/ lime wedge per serving
red onion, corriander and spring onion, finely chopped

Garnish Optional
sweet basil
thai parsley
beansprouts
fresh sliced birdeye chillis
hoi sin sauce
chilli sauce
chilli oil

Method

-Bring a big pot of water, enough to fit all the meat and bring to the boil - place all the meat in and boil until scum surfaces the top, about 10 minutes. Remove and discard the water.
-Wash the meat in cold water, removing any scum and rest. This will give you a clearer broth.
-Wash the pot, fill with new fresh water and bring to the boil, then add the cleaned meat in.
-Bring to a gentle boil, getting rid of any excess scum then simmer.
-Add a free range chicken or good quality chicken stock. (take the chicken out after an hour).

-Meanwhile, place a griddle pan on high heat. Do not add oil. Place the halved onions and ginger to char on both sides with star anise. Add to the broth with the mooli and carrot.
-Add the mix of spices (in a muslin sac or strainer) and rock sugar. Season with salt and a premium quality fish sauce such as Three Crabs Fish Sauce, tasting all the time. Simmer for at least 2 hours with the lid on. If you need more sweetness add more rock sugar. If there is too much fat floating on top – remove.

-Take out the beef flank/ rib after 2 hours and leave to rest. If you leave it in for longer, the meat may be too soft and will fall apart. When it cools down, slice it thinly and place in a closed container until it is ready to be served. Leave the bones and ox tail in to simmer for at least another 2 hours. Continue to season with fish sauce and pepper until you reach the perfect balance.

To serve, blanch the fresh noodles and place in a bowl. Place the sliced meat on top with a generous sprinkling of coriander, spring onions and red onion. It is an option to place raw thinly slices of steak on top too.

Pour over boiling hot broth. Serve immediately with lemon or lime and a dish of garnishes.

TIP
-Remove all the vegetables from the stock, do not leave in over night as this will make your stock rot.
-Bottle the stock and keep refridgerated for up to one week
-Freeze the stock in single portions and consume whenever you need it.

This recipe has been commissioned by Seewoo

Tim Hayward's recipe with my assistance:
FT Weekend: From Vietnam With Love By Tim Hayward

When We Were The Greatest, Rolling In The Deep & Two Weddings

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Tue, 13 Sep 2011 11:03:00 +0000

Photo By Meemalee's Kitchen

What a great few weeks its been for me! I've been partying & dinning out a lot! The single life is settling in nice and snug and it is great to leave the past in the past and move on, a fresh, a new, all the richer and all the wiser (!?)

The Secret Larder

I've been drinking inside the fridge of The Breakfast Club; eaten at the wonderful Roganic; The Corner Room was so-so but Viajante's bar is excellent; went to the home of James Ramsden and his Secret Larder Supper Club; got a few martinis in at the fabulous Off Broadway Bar & even went to a Vietnamese Night at Fin & Flounder Supper Club - yes - even the fish monger is doing supper clubs these days; ate yum dim sum at Princess Garden whilst nursing a hangover with Mr Noodles; did a night drive tour of London in my Figaro with my best friend Fatima, visiting home from Barcelona; lunched at The Geffrey Museum with Julia, more old friends visiting home from Barcelona; had one too many at Hawskmoor; went to Miss Immy's garden tea party; died and went to heaven eating risotto at The Ship and discovered delicious black cod at SeeWoo Cafe in Paddington; 'ended up' in The Dolphin; kissed the floor of my fabulous photographer friend Camille Sanson's penthouse-warming; introduced Rachel McGormack to ma boyz in da hood with fantastic pizza in The Regent and someone with a foot fetish cooked me a beautiful meal of live/raw things.

In between there were amazing supper club nights and one of the most amazing nights ever- The Singles Supper Club during the bank holiday weekend - a spectacular night that was purely about meeting nice people and making friends and without monomania on finding the one.

Usually, I circulate people around but no one wanted to move because everyone was so happy to be sat where they were although they wanted to meet other people too. I actually surprised myself by finding enough men to come in the end - I think men want to be cool and last minute, don't they!

In euphoria, we sang our hearts out to songs like Rolling In The Deep, Rio and Umbrella - Ella Ella, slammed our feet so hard to the ground, "we could have had it all…" throwing our arms into claps and kicking our feet to the beat, "you had my heart and soul in your hands…" we propelled our cares and embraced our youth, our freedom and danced like no one was watching - the noise and the energy was immaculate - Someone was even rapping!

I went to two weddings and my heart was full of love, one day after another - One Million Gold Stars & Simon Dogget got hitched-they had a Twitter hashtag wedding #sgwed, they met at a Blogger's event and had one of their first dates at the supper club in October 2009 and I've been good friends with them ever since. Two years later, it always amazes me how Simon continues to look at Gail as if he has just met her, totally stunned by the her beauty and is falling in love every time he lays eyes on her!

My old and very dear friend from Central Saint Martins - Billy, also got married to a girl called Adele he met in Australia (at The ICA). He bought her home, back to London and everybody loved her as soon as they met her. Always judgmental about who my friends are seeing and if the girl is ever good enough, Adele's endless smiles and positive attitude and outstanding beauty charmed me and everybody - how did Billy boy find someone so perfect for him! A single serendipity of him entering a random bar the same night she happened to be there has unified them forever.

As always, it was brilliant to see my old friends from St Martins, Nima (flew back from LA), Seb, Rajat, Twig and Ali. It was as (and always will be like) if we never left, cussing each other like we were kids again at 21 when anything was possible, we could be anyone, achieve anything, create it all and live forever - we were the greatest, "no wind or waterfall could stop us". Now we are the greatest!

And this bond, of chest bumps, telling it how it is and being over expressive with your hand whilst holding a glass of wine and spilling it all over my dress, I imagine will be till death do us part.

Why've you got to tweet everyone you need is here! You're dirty man! Your mamma stinks of pussy! Slag! I'm gonna whip your ass! Mash you up! Girl - you're looking hot! Why you gotta fall for all these batty boys? I love you man!

Here's to Autumn.

My 7 Links

noreply@blogger.com (LELUU) — Wed, 07 Sep 2011 15:27:00 +0000

The Skinny Bib nominated me to write My 7 Links. This is what it is about:

Bloggers publish his/her 7 Links on his/her blog. One link for one category and the categories are: the most beautiful, the most popular, the most controversial, the most helpful, a post whose success surprises you, a post that doesn’t receive attention it deserves and the post the blogger is most proud of..

I have been blogging since the end of 2008 and but more seriously so from 2009. What I tend to blog about always evolve and sometimes, I can not really define what this blog is about - its mainly about food, Vietnamese food but also travel and stuff in general. Its a place where I can write about what I think too.

Most Beautiful: Flying Home My Trip To Vietnam 2011
Its about the feelings, the sights and sounds of going to a place where I was born.
I was originally asked to write this for Eat Me Magazine but they did not publish it or send me any communications as to why.

Most Popular: A London Riot 8th August 2011

The London Riots happened on my doorstep. So I wrote about it but I don't feel like this one really counts because it was mainly ranked highly on Google searches.

Otherwise it would be Leluu & Fernandez about how Simon Fernandez and I got together to create Fernandez and Leluu Supper Club and how it all ended and we separated.

Most Controversial: London Riot: Have Your Say - With BBC World News
I did a radio show with BBC World the day after the London Riots, but I didn't write it up very well and got my ass kicked and bad mouthed all over Twitter. I am currently working on a film documentary with Darrell James, the man, I called, Black, about youth culture.

Most Helpful: Hot & Cold, Ying & Yang
The main philosophy of the Eastern diet is to have the right balance of hot and cold elements in the body.

Success Surprised Me: A Single Serendipity
I wrote about being single, online dating and enjoying being single. As well as lovely comments, I got a lot of emails from people I have never met telling me how I made their day. It was such a great feeling.

Didn't Receive The Attention It Deserves: John Malkovich & Leluu
I met John Malkovich many times and I had always wanted to write about my time with him, so one day, I started to write it as homework for a creative writing class. I haven't continued because I don't know if anyone is interested.

Most Proud Of: A Trilogy Post:
The Monsoon, Bun Bo Hue, Elephant Man & My Uncle Thu

Stories from Uncle Thu, His Escape From Vietnam
Blood Cakes & Banana Blossom
These are stories and memories of Vietnam and how my uncles escaped Vietnam. I laughed and cried with my uncles when we recalled them in California after over 30 years of locking the memories away like closed booked high on dusty shelves.

Here are the top 5 blogs I read and would like to pass the 7 links onto:
Peppercorns In My Pocket
The Grubworm
Meemalee's Kitchen
Douglas Blyde
Tom Eats Jen Cooks