Cookbooks forge new market, deliver sweet tastes of Indonesia, Laos

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TASTE OF LAOS, by Daovone Xayavong, Snow Lion Graphics, Berkeley, Calif., 136 pages, $15.95.

TASTE OF INDONESIA, by Helena Soedjak, Snow Lion Graphics, Berkeley, Calif., 136 pages, $16.95.

When Ronald Reagan famously said of Latin America, “You’d be surprised. They’re all different countries,” he could easily have been talking about the impressions many of us have of Southeast Asia. Barring those with strong cultural ties to the 10 nations of that sprawling landmass and chain of islands, most Americans see the region in nebulous form, scarcely mentally differentiating the countries.

This is far from inexcusable. While a trip to the library will offer a glimpse of the variety of the life and landscape of the region that is home to more than 530 million people, the only true way to learn about a culture is to go there and spend some time with its inhabitants.

That’s simply not an option for most of us. Even for those who can scrape together the cost of a flight, two weeks’ vacation a year just doesn’t give the time to take a leisurely trawl through a panoply of cultures. This is where cookbooks come in.

Forget about leaving only footprints on your travels, a decent cookbook can offer you the tastes and smells of another country for less than 20 bucks, and all without setting foot outside your own kitchen.

“Taste of Indonesia” and “Taste of Laos” offer us tickets to two more remote culinary outposts, and both are welcome stops.

While Vietnamese and Thai food are now relatively common in much of the United States, Laotian and (to a lesser degree) Indonesian cooking, remain rare. So as one of the very few English-language cookbooks that even mentions Laotian cooking, I find it a shame that Daovone Xayavong has subtitled her book “Lao-Thai recipes.” Whether this is simply a reflection of the food that Daovone serves at her Dara Restaurant in Berkeley, Calif., or a device intended to lure those leery of the unknown, I don’t know. Nevertheless, it only serves to reinforce the notion many may have of the interchangeability of the region’s foods.

As a native Laotian who spent time as a refugee in Thailand, Daovone’s credentials for writing a cookbook about either cuisine are impeccable, but buyers should be aware they are purchasing a volume, with little clue in the pages as to which dishes are Laotian in origin, which are Thai, and which are hybrid dishes.

Still, most dishes featured here are simple to prepare and contain common ingredients, apart from the two that contain ant eggs – Koa Khai Mood (Ant-Egg Omelet) and Keang Khai Mood (Ant-Egg Soup). I’d love to report the texture and flavor of these to you, but apparently local substitutions do not give the desired results. There are, however, handy tips for collecting your own if you ever visit the right region. More to local tastes might be the Himapan Gai (Cashew Chicken), which is simplicity itself to prepare and, as Daovone points out, livelier than its Chinese cousin, especially if you’re (un)fortunate enough to munch one of the vicious fried chilies lurking among the sweetly seasoned meat and nuts. Serve with the sticky rice that is essential to all Laotian meals.

Indonesian cookbooks aren’t quite as rare as those from Laos, but it’s still good to see another one enter an uncrowded field. “Taste of Indonesia” follows much the same physical format as “Taste of Laos,” but is relatively unusual among cookbooks (especially in these days of celebrity chefs) in not being tied to a well-known cook or restaurant.

Instead, it is the work of Helena Soedjak, a food scientist and microbiologist for Kraft Foods in Tarrytown, N.Y. OK, that doesn’t conjure up the exotic swaying palms we might more readily associate Indonesia, but Soedjak’s first 18 years were spent on the island of Java with more years spent among the strong Indonesian communities of Northern Europe – especially the Netherlands. Still, Soedjak’s day job shows in her frequent footnotes containing tips and “did-you-knows” about the ingredients in her recipes.

“Taste of Indonesia” feels the more finished of these two books. Noteworthy are the pages on Indonesian culture, geography, history and food specialties, spanning shadow puppets, rice terraces, sambal and krupuk (for which there are, unfortunately, no recipes!)

Still, many of Indonesia’s best-known dishes are represented here. While living in Europe, Soedjak claims to have “learned to modify and simplify the traditional Indonesian cooking without sacrificing its genuine taste.” Indeed, like “Taste of Laos” nearly all the dishes here are simple, one- or two-step affairs, created with supermarket staples. Some recipes are definitely not traditional – Sauerkraut with Sausage (Tumis Kubis Asam) is obviously a product of years Soedjak spent in Germany. But for every invention of Soedjak’s, there are dozens of traditionals, such as the ubiquitous satay, or the nasi gorengs loved by travelers in the region for their filling simplicity.

Unfortunately, both Daovone and Soedjak might both have good reason to feel let down by their publisher. One eats first with the eye and little details can be most important, so I’m disappointed by some of the shoddiness apparent in both these books.

“Taste of Laos” especially suffers from sloppy proofreading with typographical errors scattering the pages. Poorly chosen fonts, cheap-seeming paper and inadequate black-and-white photography also give the impression of a volume that was printed in someone’s bedroom.

“Taste of Indonesia,” while displaying glossier paper and a more professional feel is not entirely free of such defects. Its illustration-free pages display a similar austerity to those of “Laos” with color photos ghettoized. And while Dr. Harry Andree’s color photography is generally of acceptable standard, the book’s black-and-white photos are poor, unfocused or badly lit. Both books also are appallingly indexed. Again, “Taste of Laos” is the worst offender, indexing only by (English) dish name, but “Indonesia” is little better, indexing only by main ingredient.

These are books, which all enthusiastic gastronomic tourists should not hesitate to take a look at. But those who buy cookbooks for the coffee table rather than the kitchen table will come away somewhat disappointed.

And while neither work may be destined to become the definitive volume on its subject, less than $17 is a worthwhile investment for a simple initiation into some novel (for Americans) cuisines.

Cashew Chicken (Himapan Gai)

Serves 4

1 pound boneless chicken breast sliced

2 cloves garlic, sliced

1/2 cup yellow onions, sliced

1 tablespoon oyster sauce

11/2 teaspoons dark soy sauce

Pinch salt

1/2 cup water

8 dry chilies, fried

1/2 cup roasted cashew nuts

1 green onion, chopped

1 tablespoon oil

Heat oil in a wok over medium heat. Saute garlic and yellow onions briefly. Add chicken breast and saute until chicken is cooked.

In a small bowl, combine oyster sauce, dark soy sauce, salt and water. Stir into the wok with the chicken. Add fried chilies, cashew nuts and green onions. Mix well and serve with rice.

Fried Rice with Shrimp (Nasi Goreng Udang)

Serves 2

2 cups cooked rice

1/4 pound shrimp (small or medium size)

1/4 pound pork (chicken or beef)

2 cloves garlic

1 shallot

2 tablespoon vegetable oil

1 teaspoon ground red chilies (sambal) adjust to taste

1 teaspoon brown sugar

1 teaspoon salt

Cook rice at least 1 hour prior to use. Allow to cool. Cut meat into thin slices. Peel shrimp, make a shallow cut along the back of each. Peel garlic and shallot, and cut into thin slices. Heat oil in a wok or large nonstick pan, add garlic and shallots and stir-fry for 2 minutes. Add meat and stir-fry for 2 minutes, then add shrimp and stir-fry for 1 minute. Add the rice and the remaining ingredients, and stir fry for 2 minutes over medium heat, stirring constantly to prevent it from sticking to the pan.