Louie Chen
Food Editor

Perennially happy about food!

After being terminated and rehired for the eighth time at his father’s Chinese restaurant, Louie applied for permanent exile and sought asylum by going to university. He vowed to never ever pick up another wok or set foot inside a restaurant unless it was to eat. At the “refugee camp” he paid for books he never opened and enrolled in all the language courses, forgetting he was pursuing studies in chemistry. As the funds dried up, he swallowed “never-ever” and stepped through the back door of a European restaurant.

Alas, it wasn’t all in vain for Louie quickly learned far more outside his father’s kitchen. For instance, it wasn’t normal practice to be fired, rehired and fired again during the same lunch shift. He learned more trivial and useful culinary skills such as not spilling expensive wines on customers. Ever important was the task of serving a teacup with its handle at the four o'clock position or the heated debate over the origin of Czech sauerkraut. He learned he could be a vegetarian after replacing the butcher and making diplomatic acquaintances with several representatives of the animal kingdom. In between the chicken deboning and speed cutting contests, he left the professional kitchen with all his fingers intact. Before becoming Food Editor of e-Marginalia.com, Louie was a wine consultant and a food flavoring consultant. He now devotes his time to culinary adventures and writing about them.

Louie currently resides in Boston.

Stories:

Thailand's Tom Yum Kung - "The aroma initiated my fertile mountain lungs after spending the past weekend hiking in the Appalachians trails of North America. The first thing to hit me were the colorful wardrobes, the coat of clinging humidity, and the open embracing arms of toxic tuk-tuk diesel exhaust welcoming me back to this mystical little treasure in Thailand..." [Visit this Feature]

Tantalizing Taipei Night Markets - "An otherwise ordinary open-air market during the day becomes a madly energetic feeding frenzy after dark when tourists and locals descend upon the night markets. As the cab stopped, I saw throngs of people near the entrance of the market. I climbed out of the cab and nearly doubled back. After taking a few breaths, I regained my orientation just in time to see a gap in the crowd wide enough for me to wedge my foot in. The usual Saturday night crowd was marching in military fashion so that I could not break the ranks..." [Visit this Feature]