By Helena Sung
Photos by Rain Noe

When Ji Baek decided to open up a nail salon, her husband thought she was out of her mind, and her mother stopped talking to her. An educated and classically trained musician, Baek was supposed to do something refined with her life, not spend her days touching people’s feet. “[But] I was more afraid of touching raw chicken,” quips Baek.

Ten years later and Baek, 37, is sitting atop a mini empire that has changed customer’s expectations of the neighborhood nail salon.

At Rescue Beauty Lounge in New York City, sanitation is key. Forget the image of dirty carpets with nail clippings and grimy Jacuzzis reserved for spa pedicures. Baek doesn’t even have whirlpool pedicure baths installed in her spas. “Those are very unsanitary,” she says, noting that the filters are meant to be changed after each use, but doubts it is done.

In Baek’s world, individual sinks are used for footbaths and cleaned with Clorox bleach after each client. No nail file is reused; wooden sticks utilized for waxing are used once and disposed (no double-dipping into the wax); and instruments made of metal are sterilized after each use in an auto clave (which heats the instruments to 325 degrees, killing all germs), then sealed in a medical pack.

A self-professed germaphobe, Baek’s hardline rules on cleanliness at Rescue Beauty were founded on her own experiences getting mani-pedis. Disgusted by the practices of local nail salons, she felt her approach would gain an edge on the market. When she opened in 1998, the city took notice and customers flocked to have their pampering done in private rooms and semi-enclosed individual nail stations ensconced in tranquil surroundings.

Baek immigrated to the United States when she was 12 years old, settling in Staten Island with her older sisters and brother. Beginning in high school, she spent most of her time in Manhattan, studying viola and piano at Juilliard Prep and Manhattan School of Music.

“My mother had two daughters who did art, and she decided she wanted one to do music,” Baek explains. Her music career, however, came to an end when she developed painful tendonitis in her shoulder at 20.

“Up to that point,” Baek says, “I didn’t know anything else. I had been cocooned in the music world and focusing on that.” She eventually got a job managing restaurants in Manhattan.

After working in the culinary industry for several years, Baek thought she would open her own restaurant. She attended the French Culinary Institute because, she says, “If the chef walked out, I wanted to be able to step in.” At 26, Baek married her husband, Alex, a Russian American. He had his own music instrument business and they lived a comfortable life on the Upper West Side. She didn’t need to work and spent her days concocting gourmet meals in their kitchen. Baek grew bored. Until the idea for Rescue Beauty was born.

As a restaurant manager, Baek had learned about cost analysis, inventory, hospitality and training. It was, she says, “like Business 101 and MBA boot camp.” She took the restaurant model and applied it to the business plan she was devising for her beauty service business.

Undeterred by her mother’s misgivings, Baek enrolled in a Korean nail school in Queens for a six-month training program in 1997. “It was taught by complete ajumas and ajeossis,” Baek recalls. “They were born-again Christians and at lunchtime, they would come up to me and say ‘I could save you.’”

Baek finished the program and got her New York state license. She found an investor — her husband — and opened the first Rescue Beauty Lounge in Soho. “I knew there was a correct way to do things,” Baek says, recounting the strict health codes she had learned in the food industry.

Because of the salon’s adherence to cleanliness and aesthetically pleasing surroundings, clients don’t mind paying prices that sound steep compared to other salons (manicures currently range from $28 to $65 and pedicures from $48 to $120).

Elizabeth Negrobotto, a publicist for Pastis Restaurant, has been a regular since Rescue Beauty Lounge opened its newest location on Gansevoort Street in the Meatpacking District in 2004. “I love getting manicures and pedicures there because it’s quieter and has privacy, which is rare!” she says. “My favorite thing about it is not being jammed right next to someone I don’t know who is speaking loudly in their mobile phone.”

With only two locations (the original Soho location closed when they gave up the lease and reopened in Nolita), Rescue Beauty is reported to be the favorite nail spa among the city’s luminaries in the advertising, fashion and beauty worlds, although Baek is loathe to divulge details. “I hate name-dropping,” she says.

She will say that Rescue Beauty has become a place to hold business gatherings. “No one eats anymore in New York City, so rather than going to a restaurant for a meeting, they come here,” Baek says, adding that something about baring your feet leads to more relaxed communication.

Vogue actually named Baek — known for a penchant for designer clothing — “Manhattan’s chicest manicurist.” She may also be the busiest. Baek works seven days a week and will soon be coming out with a do-it-yourself guide for nails. She has her own line of beauty products and nail polish (Dead Calm is a perfect pearly blue-purple according to Joanne Chiu of Shu Uemura) and also works backstage at fashion shows.

“It’s an incredible business, and spiritually, it’s an amazing opportunity to guide people,” Baek says, referring to the nail technicians she hires and trains. “I feel so proud that I can help someone learn a skill that she can take and go anywhere in the world.”

Finding work elsewhere shouldn’t be too difficult for a trained manicurist as copycat nail businesses have cropped up around Manhattan. Baek views it as a compliment, rather than a threat. “We’ve had incredible input into the industry,” she says. “I hope it continues.”

Cuticle Tips

Nail etiquette, according to Ji Baek

1. There is nothing wrong with clean, bare nails. I love them.

2. Nails should be comfortable for you and your lifestyle.

3. Don’t get acrylics. They’re really horrible for your nails.

4. I’m an avid believer in doing your nails at home. If you can’t afford to get your nails done, you should know how to do it yourself.

By Ivy Dai
Photograph by Eric Sueyoshi

While living in San Francisco, artists Angie Myung and Ted Vadakan lived on a tight budget. But every so often, they managed to host art shows for their friends. “We had a ton of artist and musician friends,” the Korean-born Myung says. “None of us had any money, we were all really poor. But we wanted to make something affordable, that people could walk away with.”

For their first show, the couple had friends submit drawings to be used as images on wallets. Manufactured in their living room, the portable art was an instant hit. Before each show, they would make more wallets, determined to get art off the wall and into pockets.

The novel idea has since turned into a rapidly growing company that offers affordable art for the everyday. Original designs are imprinted on T-shirts, bags, stationery and dinnerware. Merchandise ranges from quirky to chic: A popular tote bag shows knockoff Louis Vuittons and the word “FAKE.” There’s also zen Japanese lampshades and poetic drawings emblazoned on baby tees.

Since Poketo started in 2003, its products have been featured in the New York Times, DailyCandy.com and ReadyMade magazine. They’ve also designed wallets for bands like The Shins and Weezer.

Artists submit artwork to Myung and Vadakan, who transform the designs into a line of products. Whether the images become a T-shirt, wallet or stationery is up to the couple. Each limited-edition item includes a short bio of the designer. Poketo only makes two to 300 of any particular style, so each piece remains unique. People can buy these inexpensive gems at boutique stores and museums worldwide, as well as online. The best-selling products are the wallets, which cost about $20. Some customers collect the wallets and hang them on the wall.

“We wanted people to have art around all the time, whether it’s clothes, plates or planners,” Myung says. “And these are not generic prints; these are all original pieces from artists.”

The name Poketo comes from the way Angie’s grandmother pronounces “pocket” in English. Many of the designs are fun and eclectic with bold colors. The couple says they’re drawn to work that’s passionate, warm and has a sense of narrative.

“Sometimes artists have a hard time selling their stuff because arts and crafts shows are really limited,” Poketo contributor Leah Chun says. The graphic designer and animator works for Big Buddha Baba Productions, an interactive company that services Disney and other big clients.

“It’s an online store as well, and it’s a great way to say, ‘Hey, I’m on Poketo,’” she says. “You get a chance to represent yourself.”

When Myung and Vadakan started their company, they didn’t know the first thing about running a business. They met in San Francisco, while Myung was studying graphic design in graduate school and Vadakan worked for a nonprofit called the Bay Area Video Coalition. Myung had also freelanced as a producer for the Discovery Channel and Learning Channel. They started dating and were making wallets for Poketo as a hobby. Both felt restless at their jobs and wanted a change. They wanted to take Poketo to the next level, so they headed to Los Angeles. They thought the sprawling city would be the perfect place to open a storefront. At first, though, they lived with Vadakan’s parents in a small house in Long Beach.

“We kept stock there, and there were boxes everywhere,” says Vadakan, who is Thai. “My parents were walking sideways in the living room.”

Despite the cramped quarters, the couple was able to save money and figure out the industry. At first, they wanted to open a store, but decided against it. Instead, they asked museums and small boutiques to carry their merchandise. They also created an online store. That decision was a huge part of Poketo’s success — they were able to put profits directly back into the business and not into overhead.

Myung designed the website herself, which finally went through an overhaul last year. Poketo now pays its artists a consultant fee, but in the beginning, they could only afford to give free merchandise.

“We never lived beyond our means,” Vadakan says. “And we still do that today.”

The couple, both 33, worked from their Echo Park home for the first four years. In August, they moved the office to a loft in downtown Los Angeles. They have a part-time assistant, but Myung and Vadakan do practically everything themselves — from selecting designs to meeting with artists and administrative work. This month, they’ll celebrate the grand opening of their new space and will offer fine art prints for sale from more than 25 international artists.

Those artists are culled from various meetings held around the world. They will travel to Korea this month, Glasgow in April and Australia in the fall to hold art series for local artists there. Their future plans include opening retail storefronts and spreading the Poketo philosophy.

“Sometimes we look at each other and think, how did we ever end up doing this?” Myung says. “We feel like we’re living

By Jamie Morgan
Photographs by Audrey Cho

If you ask people in Chicago how to get to Koreatown they may give you a hesitant look followed by a sigh before finally spitting out a few cross streets and a couple of places to check out on the North Side. They may even tell you about a restaurant in a suburb 45 minutes away from the city.

It’s not that there’s some hidden secret to hide, it’s because in Illinois, wherever there are Koreans, there is a mini Koreatown.

But if a historian had to locate Chicago’s Koreatown, it would probably be in Albany Park, a neighborhood on Chicago’s northwest side. About 20 years ago there was nothing on this strip that ran up and down Lawrence Avenue from Elston to Western. But in the 1980s, Albany Park became an immigrant hub in Chicago where Koreans, Cambodians, Indians and Yugoslavians all made their mark.

However, in recent years, Chicago’s honorary Seoul Drive has become an assorted compilation of Dunkin’ Donuts, Mexican mini-marts, Italian pasta and pizza places and Middle Eastern bakeries, interspersed between galbi restaurants, Korean bookstores and Korean-owned insurance companies. Almost half of the businesses on this 2.5-mile stretch are Korean-owned, with signs in Korean and English. And the neighborhood has the highest single Korean population in the city with 11.6 percent — although just one neighborhood over in West Ridge it’s 11.4 percent, according to the Northeastern Illinois Planning Commission.

The truth is, Koreans have branched to other places in and outside of Chicago. There are now substantial Korean communities in suburbs like Skokie, Glenview, Northbrook and Des Plaines. And when the people moved, the businesses did, too.

“K-town is more dispersed throughout Chicago and the suburbs,” says Eun Young Lee, 25, a youth coordinator for Chicago’s Korean American Resource & Cultural Center. “About eight years ago, most of the people were no longer going into the Chicago K-town to eat or hang out, including adults, but were able to find the same restaurants in the suburbs near their home.”

Lee, says it’s hard for Chicago’s K-town to gain as much attention as the city’s Chinatown or Greektown, where the neighborhoods are dominated by one specific culture. Still, the honorary Seoul Drive street sign at Lawrence Avenue and Spaulding Avenue is just as firmly planted as the Korean music store next to Polish pastry shop. Here are some other “we’re not leaving any time soon” places to check out on Chicago’s North Side neighborhoods in Albany Park, North Park and West Ridge.

The Hot Spot

Moraeshigae

3658 W. Lawrence Ave.

The blacked-out windows and dim sign outside of Moraeshigae — named after a famous Korean drama and meaning “hourglass” — make it easy to pass up. Once inside, however, it’s impossible to forget.

The décor is a mix of natural elements — water, fire and earth — with just a touch of moodiness that’s essential to a good bar atmosphere. From the booths pieced from bamboo logs to the faux greenery strung along the ceiling to the waterfall in the back, Moraeshigae is raw, romantic and rich with detail, just like the TV drama. And it’s pretty much stayed the same since it opened in 1994. The owner, Sutok Im, 54, says that every piece of his bar was a methodical conscious choice to make sure that his bar stayed fresh for his target crowd of college kids who come for the big portions, smooth alcohol and loud music.

The menu, created by Im’s wife who is the head chef, pleases its Korean and non-Korean patrons who linger over spicy fried chicken and watermelon soju as American and Korean hip-hop blares all night.

Im arrived from Seoul in 1982 to study business and opened a string of Korean restaurants in Chicago’s Koreatown, all of which failed and dragged him into debt. He blames the past problems on bad timing and locations.

Moraeshigae turned out to be his “lucky one,” because just two years after its opening he was able to pay back all his debts. And he’s continued to do well, despite the fact that Koreans are moving to Chicago’s outlying suburbs.

Advertising is word-of-mouth and Im has a feeling that his business thrives because he has strayed from the run-of-the-mill Korean barbecue house, which is why commute hating mid-westerners are willing to drive from Schaumberg, IL, into a city 40 minutes away.

“This is not a traditional restaurant,” Im insists. “You cannot find it anywhere [else] out here. … There have been nights where the kitchen opens late and the customers will stand and wait. They are very, very loyal.”

Where To Eat

Kang Nam

Check it out: 4849 N. Kedzie Ave.

About: One of Chicago’s most loved Korean BBQ restaurants in a strip mall off Kedzie Avenue. Was once called Kang Sae, until the new owners bought the restaurant and made some subtle changes.

Claim to Fame: Dedicated to the art of cooking galbi over charcoal instead of gas.

Atmosphere: Traditional family-style restaurant. Lots of booth seating for groups of friends.

Fan: Binnie Hyuck, 35, a freelance grant writer, was introduced to Kang Nam by a Korean friend a couple of months ago and has been back four times since. “I’m not used to eating Korean foods,” says Hyuck, “but I think anyone would enjoy the galbi, it’s barbecue without all the many bones!”

Ssyal Ginseng House

Check it out: 4201 W. Lawrence Ave.

About: Soups served boiling hot with an array of banchan. The manager suggests throwing all the side dishes in for a thicker stew.

Claim to Fame: Samgaetang (ginseng chicken soup) warms the soul during frosty Chicago winters.

Atmosphere: Relaxing, cozy atmosphere where you can hear fellow diners discussing the heated presidential elections.

Fan: Frequent patron Brian Cho, 43, says “It’s very close to back home in Korea and how my mom and grand-mom used to make samgaetang.”

Also Try:

San Soo Gap San at 5247 N. Western Ave.

Open 24/7. Good for first-timers to Korean food. During the day they’ll talk you through the menu, but at 2 a.m. when the clubbers come through, you’re on your own.

Song Do Buffet at 4918 N. Lincoln Ave.

Go for the fresh noodles. Stay for the friendly smiles.

Where To Hang

Java N Mug

Check it out: 3247 W. Bryn Mawr Ave.

About: Serves coffee and bubble tea. Has a nice rotation of Korean comics and magazines to read at your leisure.

Claim to Fame: A creamy caramel macchiato that coffee and non-coffee lovers can both enjoy.

Atmosphere: Mixed young clientele from high school to 30-somethings. The smooth jazz playing in the background makes for a good casual first date.

Fan: Margaret Sanchez, 18, a Truman Community College student, always goes for the mango bubble tea, and “will never turn back!” she says.

Also Try:

Outdoor Café at 3257 W. Bryn Mawr Ave.

Wide selection of bubble tea and Korean desserts.

WHERE TO DRINK

Orange Café

Check it out: 5639 N. Lincoln Ave.

About: Korean and Japanese fusion restaurant and bar. Mussells and beer bongs. Spicy squid and Soju.

Claim to Fame: Bloggers rave about their Korean yogurt soju.

Atmosphere: Traditional, fun bar setting with Korean hip-hop music. They got rid of the karaoke though.

Fan: Eun Young Lee, 25, says “Orange is more like a bar. And their food is really good. The others are laid-back and kind of posh.”

Also Try:

Jin Ju Restaurant & Bar at 5203 N Clark St.

Upscale dining is complemented by fancy sojutini cocktails.

Get The Goods

Chicago Food Corporation

3333 N. Kimball Ave.

Buy some Korean yogurt or grab dumpling soup to go. It’s bumper to bumper on the weekends, but will supply all your needs.

Super H Mart

801 Civic Center Dr.

Immense supermarket known for its fresh produce, seafood department and food court.

Arirang Supermarket

4017 W. Lawrence Ave.

Good prices, wide variety, a fully stocked freezer section and many items available in bulk.

City Resource

It’s not just about the food. Chicago’s Korean community is also known for its grassroots activism.

KRCC

Founded in 1994 by a group of young Korean Americans, the Korean American Resource & Cultural Center is all about assisting immigrants. With programs geared toward educating Korean American youth, as well as offering free ESL classes and assistance with processes such as naturalization, financial aid and scholarships, KRCC’s mission is to empower the community through education, social service, organizing and advocacy.

It also serves as a place where Koreans can stay connected to their culture while adjusting to American life.

“Assimilation is good,” says KRCC youth coordinator Eun Young Lee. “But sometimes you need to be around familiar people too.”

KAN-WIN

Korean American Women in Need opened in 1990 after the founders recognized the need to address domestic violence in the Korean community.

“KAN-WIN is the only organization in the Midwest specifically providing services for Korean- and Chinese-speaking immigrant women and children survivors of domestic violence,” says Jenny Choi, who focuses on policy advocacy work for the organization.

Among the nonprofit’s initiatives are a transitional housing program that includes life and job skills development, a support group for DV survivors and their children, legal and social service advocacy and a 24-hour crisis hotline that provides information as well as emergency shelter placement and referrals.

Tune In

With more than 45,000 Korean Americans living in the greater Chicago area, Korean-language media has a thriving audience

Chicago Korean Broadcasting, Inc.

• Airs on 1330 AM from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday through Friday

• Mix of news and pop music

Korean Christian Broadcasting System

• Airs on 1590 AM from 6 a.m. to 11 a.m. daily

• Christian broadcast for Koreans

Korea Times

• The affiliate Korean-language newspaper of the Korea Times, Los Angeles

• Published Monday through Saturday

By Michelle Woo

As old-time jazz tunes blare through Dusty’s Bistro on Sunset Boulevard, John Cho sits up in the leather booth and, while pouring hot sauce on his salmon egg-white scramble, continues his eager analysis of a guy named Harold.

“Some Asian Americans thought Harold was a nerd,” the actor explains of the movie character, Harold Lee, an overworked investment banker who embarks on a hash-induced quest to find the nearest White Castle burger joint with his loose-canon roommate Kumar. “I thought, now that’s an instance of self-imposed stereotyping. Harold is a very common cinematic character. That’s generally how the buddy comedy works. One guy is very loud-mouthed and the other guy has trouble talking to the pretty girl. I found it very interesting that Asian Americans were sensitive to that.”

He adds thoughtfully, “Maybe it was the hair.”

Perhaps it would seem odd to spend a sunny Los Angeles morning dissecting the cultural implications of “Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle,” a 4-year-old teen stoner flick better famed for its gross-out antics than its racially minded undertones. (A quick recap: Harold gets attacked by a rapid raccoon, Kumar gets it on with a bag of weed, oh, and Neil Patrick Harris snorts coke off a stripper.)

But considering all this film had riding on it, both for Cho and an industry that only sporadically saw faces like his, it’s rather difficult not to. Harold was played by Cho, who is Korean American, and Kumar was played by Kal Penn, who is Indian American.

For the two actors, this was the film that plucked them from their previous roles as token minority sidekicks (ads marketed the H&K duo as “That Asian guy from ‘American Pie’ and that Indian guy from ‘Van Wilder’”) and morphed them into leading men. Instantly dubbed the new Cheech and Chong, Cho and Penn picked up MTV Movie Award nominations for the roles and were named two of People magazine’s Sexiest Bachelors. And even if the script did make Harold into a bit of a brain, it also characterized both of them as witty, attractive, hormonally-charged, rebellious, impulsive, conflicted and irresponsible — pretty much everything Asian American males weren’t perceived to be, or at least weren’t portrayed as in the industry.

And that’s something worth chatting about over breakfast in 2008.

“It’s interesting how a small comedy can challenge people’s perceptions of identity,” says Cho, 35, who is forthright and reflective when it comes to issues of race and culture. “Having said that, it’s just a movie, really. It’s really not about identity. It’s about getting high.”

Dressed in a black hooded jacket, jeans and sneakers, Cho seems at ease. Over the past four years, the Seoul-born-Texas-raised actor has grown comfortable in a Hollywood career that has included guest spots on TV shows like “Ugly Betty,” “How I Met Your Mother” and “Grey’s Anatomy,” prominent roles in films such as “West 32nd” and “The Air I Breathe,” as well as his latest undertaking — playing young Sulu in the upcoming J.J. Abrams-directed revival of “Star Trek.”

But despite his strenuous schedule, Cho is happy to sip his coffee and keep chatting about a guy named Harold. Because to the delight of fans (and the dismay of old-fashioned mothers), Harold Lee is back. On April 25, Cho and Penn return to their beloved roles in the new sequel, “Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay.” Beware: It’s raunchier and more un-PC than the first. This time around, the stoner buddies stumble upon the KKK, an inbred mutant in the Deep South and George Bush’s secret affair with Condoleezza Rice (“Is that you, Condilicious?” G-Dub beckons). Oh, and in case you’re dying to know, Neil Patrick Harris is back as Neil Patrick Harris.

For Cho, who never expected so much could come from a movie about getting the munchies, it’s been one wild ride.

***

When “Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle” hit theaters, it was fairly well-received, with critics calling it “deceptively smart” and “a stroke of satirical genius” for approaching race in a nontraditional way. Many Asian Americans saw the film not just as another lowbrow comedy, but as a sort of marker of progress. Suddenly, Asian American actors could play weed-inhaling, parents-defying, girl-hunting slackers just like their white, black and Latino counterparts.

At the very least, it got people talking.

During an appearance on the late-night talk show “Jimmy Kimmel Live,” Cho shared an example of the film’s broad appeal and how it perhaps hammered down some walls that separate subcultures. After a test screening, one Asian American girl came up to him and felt inclined to share her take. “I expected her to be really riled up about there being a fellow brother in the movie and then she goes, ‘You know what, man? I’m so happy that you portrayed real stoners in that movie — people who don’t wake up and hit the bong in the morning but do it on the weekends. Thank you for representing us correctly.’”

Now, Cho looks back at that girl’s comment in celebration. “Sometimes in Asian American culture, people believe that being Asian American is the most important part of your identity. And sometimes it’s not. … It could be your gender, it could be your occupation, it could be your sexuality.”

For New Jersey-born Penn, 30, taking on the role of Kumar was a victory in the cultural sense. He didn’t have to churn out a ridiculous accent like he’d done while playing characters like Taj Mahal in “National Lampoon’s Van Wilder.” He saw that this film could be a milestone, not just for him, but for the greater community.

“There was a double sense of consciousness going into it,” explains Penn in a phone interview, as he’s currently teaching Asian American studies courses at the University of Pennsylvania. “This was obviously a great role for any actor — white, black, Indian. It would be great for anyone to play this guy that goes on this adventure. But at the same time, I certainly know how hard it is to get Asians on screen. I thought, this movie can be groundbreaking without even trying.”

Ryan Ku, director of Imprint Culture Lab, a Southern California-based consultancy that tracks Asian American influences in popular culture, believes “Harold & Kumar” defied expectations in the mainstream film industry by bringing forth characters that all audiences, regardless of ethnicity, can relate to.

“The remarkable thing about ‘Harold & Kumar’ is how unremarkable the two central characters were,” Ku says. “For the first time, you had a movie led by two Asian American men who didn’t have guns in their hands, uncanny martial arts abilities or subtitles floating below their faces. Finally, we had a depiction of Asian American males that bordered on reality. Harold and Kumar were portrayed as normal, everyday guys involved in some pretty far-fetched and funny predicaments. Their ethnicities played very secondary and subtle roles in the film and perhaps that is exactly what is needed to gain more representation for Asian Americans in media and entertainment.”

While “Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle” pulled in just $18 million at the box office that summer, it eventually found a loyal underground following and earned more than $30 million in DVD sales. Not bad for a film that cost only $9 million to make. That success gave the actors and directors an appetite for something even bigger.

***

The sequel begins the same morning Harold and Kumar get their White Castle fix. After the love of Harold’s life, Maria, jets off to Amsterdam, the pair journeys after her so Harold can profess his bottled-up affections. But when Kumar sneaks off to the restroom to light a homemade bong onboard the flight, the bong is mistaken for a “bomb,” and Kumar is identified as a terrorist. The duo is chased by the Department of Homeland Security and, of course, hilarity ensues.

“I did have a moment where I was like, if we do this movie, they’re going to open an FBI file on me,” Cho says of the film’s politically-charged take on post-9/11 paranoia.

Filming took place in Shreveport, La., with Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg making their directorial debut. The childhood pals from New Jersey wrote both “Harold and Kumar” scripts, basing the characters on their Asian American friends. From the start, Cho says the four of them shared the same vision.

“Every day, we’d shoot the movie and then every night, we’d go over to someone’s place and have a beer and talk about what happened that day and talk about the next day,” notes Cho, who says filming the sequel was more of a collaborative process than with the first movie. “It was a total focus on the laughs. Creating a tone for a comedy is really important. Is this tone real? Is it big? Is it bigger than life? Is it understated? It’s rare that you get that type of discussion time with the directors.”

Nathan Kahane, one of the producers for both the original film and the sequel, found it hilarious to watch the two recapture their roles.

“It was great to reunite with John and Kal, who are both so talented and charismatic,” Kahane says. “Those guys always bring a real humor and camaraderie to the set and it really shows in the final product.”

“Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay” joins the ranks of shows like “30 Rock,” “The Office” and “Curb Your Enthusiasm” that feature clueless, racially insensitive characters as targets for laughs. In this film, the joke is on federal agent Ron Fox, played by former “Daily Show” correspondent Rob Corddry.

The first time Fox encounters Harold and Kumar is after they’ve been placed in a detainment cell. Staring at the suspects, he remarks of Cho, “What’s up with the guy with the weird eyes? Is he handicapped or something?”

A colleague then replies, “We believe he’s of Korean descent.”

“North Korea and Al-Qaeda working together,” Ron says. “This is bigger than I thought.”

Cho hopes that people get it. There’s always a fine line in any joke about race, and as an Asian American actor, Cho believes he’s been both blessed and burdened to have some power over the script and delivery.

“I’m very sensitive to doing this right,” Cho says. “On one hand, you don’t want to make jokes at the expense of your race. On the other hand, you don’t want to inhibit your movie from attacking your race, either. With every project, I shouldn’t have to wonder, gee, are Asian Americans going to appreciate this? Am I going to get sh-t for this? It’s a self-inflicted paralysis. An artist requires an attitude of freedom instead of having the community constantly monitoring every move.”

Cho believes that “Harold & Kumar” does get it right, simply by being funny.

“We’re so accustomed to seeing really bad jokes about race,” he says. “In America, whenever I hear a standup comedian do race jokes, the results are cynical, repetitive, not innovative at all. With ‘Harold & Kumar,’ we didn’t even raise the bar that high. I just think we made jokes about race that are as smart as other jokes. We just said, when we’re doing a joke about race, we’re going to demand that they be funny and actually have an insight into something.”

Still, Cho has also learned that sometimes, you need to let loose and enjoy the ride. After all, these are really just films about getting high.

The one scene in the sequel that Cho calls a “cinematic milestone” isn’t all that deep. Well, it is bottomless.

He’s referring to the moment when Harold and Kumar enter a bottomless party, which means girls and guys are required to be in the buff from the waist down.

“Right before knocking on the door to the party, I remember saying to Kal, ‘You’ve gotta remember this because everyone will ask you about this night for the rest of your life,’” says Cho. “You might as well have a good story.”

(Cho’s own story: “It was cold.”)

Both Cho and Penn are signed to a three-picture deal, which means that they will return in a third “Harold & Kumar,” if producers decide to make one. In the meantime, Cho is busy filming “Star Trek,” working on an album he’s releasing with his L.A.-based rock band Left of Zed and traveling with his wife, actress Kerri Higuchi. Penn has carved his own niche in Hollywood since the first film. He starred in Mira Nair’s 2007 cross-cultural family saga “The Namesake” (his dream role, he says) and had recurring parts on the hit TV shows “24” and “House, M.D.”

For Cho, when he thinks about the future, there’s a sense of ease.

“The generation right behind me — you know, the kids in high school — they don’t seem hung up on anything,” Cho says reflectively. “Being gay isn’t the tabloid revelation of the world. And being OK with everyone’s color seems to be so natural. So that makes me hopeful. I’m thankful that I’ve been doing things that aren’t defined by race. That’s not a concern in terms of what comes to me anymore.”

And for that, Cho might just want to thank a guy named Harold.

A Conversation with John Cho and Kal Penn

The “Harold & Kumar” duo banter on everything from George Bush to MSG

Photo; Cover-HaroldKumar-SB.jpg

KoreAm set up a conference call with Cho, who’s in L.A. filming “Star Trek,” and Penn, who’s been busy campaigning for presidential candidate Barack Obama and teaching Asian American Studies classes at the University of Pennsylvania.

Listen in on the chat.

[With Penn and the reporter already on the line, Cho joins the conversation with Darth Vader-like heavy breaths]

Penn: This must be John Cho. Hey John.

Cho: Hey! Where are you, man?

Penn: Don’t worry about it.

Cho: [Laughs] How are the classes going?

Penn: We were just not talking about that. (Penn had previously explained to the reporter that he’s not allowed to expand on his teaching stint.) They’re going fine. I just can’t say much. How’s the movie?

Cho: Pretty lame, whatever. [Laughs] No, it’s great. I also have a gag order. It’s too bad because this is the first time I’m in a film people have heard of. Before, it was like, “Uh, I play this guy who has a roommate and they smoke weed.”

KJ: After filming two movies together, you guys have gotten pretty close. How would you describe each other?

Penn: Uh, kinda lame. [Laughs]

Cho: Let’s do those one-word answers.

Penn: OK, cacophonous.

Cho: I’m going to go with thoughtful.

Penn: Oh, we’re doing this for real? Hmm.

Cho: [Whispering] Erotic.

Penn: Gregarious. I don’t know. I don’t want to restrict it to one word. He’s so much more than that.

Cho: Thanks, Kal.

KJ: John, is it true that in real life, you’re more like Kumar and Kal is more like Harold?

Cho: I think so. Kal would be the one focusing on a scene, and I would be the one slapping his ass right until they’d call action.

KJ: How are you two similar?

Cho: We both enjoy reading, movies, music. I think we share a lot of the same political views.

Penn: Wait, so you’re on the bandwagon?

Cho: I did vote for Obama.

Penn: Nice. You got a personal phone call from him, didn’t you? He said, “Cho, you need to do this for your country.” [Both laugh]

KJ: “Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay” starts out on a flight to Amsterdam. What are your flying styles? Are you chatty? Do you try to sleep?

Cho: I try to look tough and bury myself in my reading material. I don’t want to get involved. When you start a conversation, it can turn out good, or it can turn out very bad. I don’t even introduce myself.

Penn: Except everyone knows who you are! For me, traveling is one of the rare times that I get to relax, so I sleep.

Cho: Do you peel it up?

Penn: I do not peel it up. I have a habit of falling asleep right before the baby starts screaming when the plane lands.

KJ: If you were imprisoned at Guantanamo Bay and were allowed to bring three things, what would they be?

Cho: Escape tools. And one of my dogs has to come with me, so I can kill it and eat it. And maybe baby wipes. It looks to be a dirty place.

Penn: I would bring Geoge Bush, Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfield. I believe those are the three people who can get me out.

Cho: Well played. I’d like to change my answer. I’m bringing a book of poetry, a violin and, f-ck, nevermind.

KJ: Well, speaking of George Bush, if you were to, say, land in his house, what would you ask him?

Penn: That’s a tough question. I’d probably only get one question before being escorted out. I’ll have to get back to you on that one.

Cho: I would go over the events of his administration and ask, “What did you mean to do?” I think it’s an interesting question because he’s been portrayed as a dummy, and I’m not sure if that’s true; And he’s portrayed as a puppet, and I’m not sure if that’s true. So I’d be curious to know what he intended all along the way.

So yeah, that’s what I would ask if I landed in his house. Well, I guess I’d ask him for pardon first.

KJ: Who do you prefer? Neil Patrick Harris as Doogie Howser or Neil Patrick Harris as Neil Patrick Harris in “Harold & Kumar”?

Cho: Neil Patrick Harris on “Harold & Kumar.” He’s unleashed. I mean, he was cute and great on “Doogie Howser, M.D.” But he’s cute and great and vicious on “Harold & Kumar.” I don’t know where this comes from in Neil. When he gets onto set, he’s able to channel raunchy so fast. It’s creepy. But I’m telling you that he’s not that guy. He’s the sweetest man alive. He’s like C-3PO. You can turn him on and off.

Penn: That’s a great question. I’m going to go with Neil Patrick Harris in “Sweeney Todd.” OK, sorry, that’s obnoxious. I’ll be biased. Neil Patrick Harris in “Harold & Kumar.”

KJ: Aside from “Hold On” by Wilson Phillips, what song would you be embarrassed to be caught singing in the car?

Penn: I don’t think you’re differentiating the character from real life. I would never sing Wilson Phillips in real life. So, probably anything by that Fergie person. Her songs are catchy.

Cho: I’m embarrassed of the old catalogue of Depeche Mode songs. I’d sing all loud and hearty and then you’d pull up next to me and I’d stop immediately.

KJ: What are your munchies of choice?

Cho: Flaming Hot Doritos. Recently, I was told they put MSG in all Doritos. MSG gives you a little buzz. I think that’s why I’ve been so into them.

KJ: What’s one guilty pleasure? A TV show, perhaps?

Penn: I watch a lot of C-SPAN, and I’m not gay.

Cho: I’ve been watching the worst television show on earth, “Cheaters.”

Penn: Ohhh, is that the one where that guy got stabbed?

Cho: Yes! You know, it’s that show they get the person all riled up, saying things like, if you want to confront your lover, he’s at T.G.I. Friday’s right now.

What are your ideas for the third “Harold & Kumar,” if there is one?

Cho: “Harold & Kumar Go to Space” or “Harold & Kumar Go to Heaven.” Or how about, “Harold and Kumar Go to Hawaii for Four to Six Months”?

Penn: I like that!

Michelle Woo    Photographs by Eric Sueyoshi

Turn to page 215 and you’ll find Ani Phyo’s recipe for fresh mango cobbler. (It’s absolutely delectable, reviewers have raved.) On page 118, she explains how to make her mouth-watering Japanese miso-shiitake soup. Page 194 reveals her step-by-step process to preparing sun burgers on black sesame sunflower bread.     

Gazing at her culinary creations, one might say Phyo is one heck of a cook. 

Except you can’t exactly call her that. You see, the 39-year-old doesn’t even own an oven. In fact, nothing in her award-winning guide, Ani’s Raw Food Kitchen: Easy, Delectable, Living Foods Recipes, is to be heated above 104 degrees. Phyo uses only fresh fruits, vegetables, nuts and seeds, along with herbs and spices, to simulate the flavors and textures of cooked foods. Her main kitchen tools are a food processor, dehydrator and blender. 

“Sometimes, I’ll eat cake for lunch,” admits Phyo, strolling through a farmer’s market in Los Angeles’ Little Tokyo district. “That’s one of the best parts of eating raw. Even dessert is good for you.” (Her cake “dough” can be made with ingredients such as nuts, dates and bananas.)   

Dressed comfortably in a metallic-print tank top and cotton pants, Phyo is glowing. Her tanned skin radiates, as if she just returned from the most relaxing vacation.

“Wow, these are all raw,” she says, stopping to check out a juice vendor. Phyo frequents local farmers’ markets at least once a week, sometimes strapping a grocery backpack on her dog Kanga, whom she lovingly refers to as her “urban mule.”

Raw foodists, as those who only or primarily consume raw food are often called, believe that heat alters the chemical structure and destroys vital nutrients, enzymes and vitamins in foods. Raw food, they say, maintains natural enzymes that aid in digestion and absorption. The growing movement has drawn those looking for detoxification, longevity, more energy and even cures for diseases such as chronic fatigue syndrome, Crohn’s disease and cancer. While there is a lack of scientific evidence to back such health benefits, raw food devotees swear by the diet’s powers. (Before making any drastic change in your diet, check with your doctor.)

Phyo’s first introduction to healthy eating wasn’t a very tasty one. As children growing up in upstate New York, Phyo and her brother would plug their noses as they gulped down a homemade vegetable concoction that their mother insisted they drink each morning before school.

“Ugh, it was so thick and gross,” Phyo says, wincing.  

Still, her parents’ eating habits inspired her own health-focused lifestyle. In her house, candy and pizza were forbidden. For a snack, Phyo recalls the way her father would pick a bell pepper out of their organic garden and bite into it like it was an apple. “I’ve come full circle, back to the way I was raised,” she says. 

While working as a multimedia designer in San Francisco, Phyo, who became a vegan shortly after graduating from Cornell University, stumbled across Juliano’s Raw Restaurant, which was founded by a pioneer in the raw food movement, Juliano Brotman. “The food tasted so delicious,” she recalls. “He makes this amazing lasagna, and his alfredo sauce is really good. They were so unlike the boring raw foods I had as a child.” After researching the raw food diet, she discovered what she believes are its benefits and became hooked. 

In 1999, Phyo moved to Los Angeles to work as a design consultant, but soon felt frustrated in the corporate environment. She had kept in touch with Brotman, who happened to be starting a catering business in L.A. Phyo ended up leaving her job to lead Brotman’s live catering events, soaking up knowledge and eventually contributing recipes to his menus. 

“People always thought she did a great job in the kitchen,” Brotman says. “She made sauces that blew their minds.” 

 For Phyo, inventing dishes was all about creative simulation.

 “I learned to look through recipes and ask myself, what are the key flavors? What are the key spices? For instance, for tuna salad, instead of using mayo, you can blend nuts to get that creamy texture. Instead of using fish, you can use the pulp of carrots. To make pasta, you can spiralize squash. The trick is to use the same herbs and spices as the cooked dishes,” she explains.

At her own dinner parties, Phyo loved surprising people. “I don’t always tell people when something is raw, because that turns them off,” she says. “Once, at a potluck, I had made these mock crab cakes. People were like, ‘Oh my God, that’s so good. What kind of fish is that?’ And I told them it wasn’t fish. And then they asked, ‘Well, how did you cook it?’ And I told them it wasn’t cooked. That’s what gets the buzz going.”

Phyo soon launched her own catering company, SmartMonkey Foods, which hosted raw food events across Los Angeles. Raw foodists and the raw-curious would show up at lofts and warehouses to stock up on meals for the week. The success of the events led Phyo to create packaged goods such as dressings, sauces, breads, crackers and desserts. Today, SmartMonkey Foods primarily focuses on its line of snack bars, available in flavors like Carob Brownie, Cacao Cookie and Ginger Snap and sold at health markets such as Whole Foods.   

With Ani’s Raw Food Kitchen, now in its fifth reprint, Phyo wanted readers to feel as if they’re stepping into a day in her life. “ … This book is like a farmers’ market itself,” she writes. “Just take a leisurely stroll through the pages.” She did most of the writing late at night.

“That’s the thing about raw food,” she says. “You just have a lot of energy, mental clarity and concentration. But it makes it hard to sleep.”

Along with working as the executive chef for SmartMonkey foods, Phyo is busy working on her second “uncookbook,” filming uncooking show “webisodes” (some of which are featured on her DVD), meeting with TV networks in hopes of launching her own show and presenting workshops and lectures on the benefits of healthy eating.

“Working for corporations, I wanted to do something that would make a difference in people’s lives,” Phyo says. “Now I consult for those corporations. I’m not trying to push my beliefs onto others. Instead, I just sort of do what I do and let people come to me. I see their skin clearing up. I see them losing weight and becoming more active. They’re getting their lives back. For that, I’m so grateful.”

Booking Bars Thrive in Korea http://t.co/bHOtsHVE

May Issue: Last But Not Least ... Crying Nut http://t.co/bv4ggNEl

Wednesday’s Links: Michelle Rhee backs lawsuit against teacher's union, Yul Kwon wants more Asians on TV, Dumbfoundead http://t.co/7nVqg7yb

Shin-Soo Choo homered, doubled and walked from the leadoff spot Tuesday versus the Twins. http://t.co/npn0lKFR

Tuesday's Links: Korean Zombie Fight Night, Ahn Sung-ki in new film 'Unbowed,' Monks Accused of Going to Room Salon http://t.co/I8lNm57e