50 Books Like Simple Art of Vietnamese Cooking

Written 35 years ago by a UCLA professor and a Bangkok-born female chef who owned a highly lauded restaurant near LA, this photo-less book explains Thai cuisine well, as well as the culture of food in Thailand, and its recipes never miss the mark and generally are short. This book is in no small part responsible for the success of Veggie Planet, a pizza restaurant I owned in Harvard Square, Cambridge, for 6 years. One of the most popular pizzas was called “Red Curry” pizza and was layered with coconut rice, broccoli, pan-fried tofu, and this book’s Red Curry Peanut Sauce. Never again will you use a curry sauce from a can. It’s been through 9 printings, and you’ll have to buy a used copy.

This is a glossy cookbook published first in India and then in 1994 by an Australian division of Harper Collins. I’ve made many, many recipes in this book and it’s opened my eyes to the meat-free, texturally complex cuisine of South India. The careful but dynamic mix of ingredients such as mustard seeds, curry leaves, dried coconut, dal, and cumin seeds used in tempering dishes brings the food to life. I recommend this book to the curious and adventuresome home cook who enjoys shopping at Indian markets. The recipes are solid and for the most part easy once you become familiar with its cuisine and techniques.

A beautiful book of stories and recipes by a Vietnamese mother and daughter. I found this book when I was dining at their restaurant in Beverly Hills.

I have always loved their food so purchasing their recipe book was a no-brainer but as a happy surprise, I fell in love with their heartwarming family stories on top of amazing recipes. The stories of how their family survived from Vietnam, came over to the San Francisco area in the United States, opened a Vietnamese deli shop, and fast-forward many years, and now they own multiple restaurants all over California.

I relate to some parts of their stories I am also not originally from here. From making inexpensive lunch items for office workers in San Francisco to hosting celebrity-filled post-Oscars show parties, I have enjoyed reading every ounce of this book! Plus, Helen An’s pursuit of combining healthy ingredients with modern-day cooking… show more.

Brimming with smart, flavor-packed recipes and expert advice, Vietnamese Food Any Day opens up a world of flavor to cooks at every level and from every background. Drawing on decades of experience writing and teaching about her native cuisine, Nguyen demystifies Vietnamese cooking and shows us how use easy-to-find ingredients (no specialty markets required!) to successfully – and quickly – create sensational, authentic favorites. Whether you're an experienced cook or a novice, the lessons and tips in this book will have a delicious influence the rest of your cooking.

Having lived in Vietnam in the 1990s for four years, the author longed to return and did so ten years later with her photographer sister Julie. Together with her old friend Huong, they travelled to seven cities to record regional dishes. They enjoyed eating haute cuisine and home-cooked meals, and at small eateries that are each famous for a specialty so, at times, they were racing through thick traffic on motorbike taxis to two places for the day's lunch.

Kim gives a clear sense of the vibrant environment and the people's lives, their strength, and friendliness. One could almost taste the fresh and light cuisine through the innovative words of Kim and Julie's wonderful photos.

Over many years, Martin Gardner authored a column on popular mathematics for Scientific American and a series of popular books. His writings also helped change my life, showing me how exciting and marvelous mathematics can be. 

He illuminated how mathematics underlies nature—from the patterns and shapes of petals and leaves to the weather—and much of our daily lives. He illustrated how geodesic and other domes stand up without support structures in the middle, how past and secret military codes work, and how simple paper cutouts can have seemingly magical properties and reveal paradoxes.

By jetting a privileged California tween of Vietnamese descent into her extended family in Hanoi, Thanhhà Lai creates all kinds of expectations and then delightfully subverts them, educating and entertaining readers at the same time.

Although most of the book is about Mai’s culture shock and gradual adjustment, her frail grandmother Bà remains the emotional center of the story. Bà’s loss of her husband during the Vietnam War and her journey to reclaim his secret last message build the story into a dramatic climax unlike any I’ve ever encountered.

Imagine seeing a Monarch butterfly suspended in midair—seemingly floating—as you walked down a jungle path as a soldier in Vietnam, but then quickly realizing that it’s no apparition—the butterfly is perched on a tripwire.

These are some of the arresting and unforgettable images from Komunyakaa’s book. I have taught this many times, and students come away in awe. I love how the book touches on soldiering, war, race, and memory—all in all, it interrogates what it means to “remember” the dead.

This story is set in Việt Nam and paints a clear picture of the people who lived there in the 1930-1980 timeframe of the story. The family faced hardships and tragedies, including being separated for several months when they were forced to flee for their lives. One thing I really appreciated was seeing the impact and impressions of the Việt Nam war on the people of that country. My brother fought over there—he was a Ranger in the Army—during that conflict and came home very different. In fact, he’s estranged himself from the family for the past 30+ years. Reading about the conflict from the other side gives me a clearer idea of what he might have seen or done that he never would tell me about.

Women participated in the Vietnam War, and Duong Thu Huong was among them. In 1965, she joined the Communist Youth Brigade in Hanoi and found herself within months serving in it on the frontlines in South Vietnam.

Like Bao Ninh, she experienced the horrors of the Vietnam War close-up. In her Novel Without a Name, however, Duong Thu Huong tells her story through the eyes of a young male soldier, Quan. We don’t go into battle with him; rather, we follow him behind the lines, on visits home, in meetings with friends and former lovers, and even into his dreams, where he begins to question the war he is fighting.

It’s a journey into disillusionment, convincingly told by someone who knew what she was talking about.