Broadway’s Helen J. Shen Warms Up Her Voice With Wontons

 It was a busier than usual week for Helen J. Shen, the 24-year-old actress who made her Broadway debut last November alongside Darren Criss in the musical comedy Maybe Happy Ending. She’s in the middle of a grueling post-holiday performance schedule and on Monday she recorded the show’s original Broadway cast album. “Cast recordings were my gateway drug into musical theater,” she says. Throughout it all, she’s kept her energy up with Buldak ramen and leftover Christmas wontons — her “perfect singing food.”

Thursday, January 2
I start the day off with a Pilates class. Workout classes are the only thing keeping me active; the social anxiety of not making it to class is a great motivator.

Afterward, I head to the new H Mart on the Upper West Side to get a few treats. It’s a little bit small, but compared to the hour-long trips I used to make to my nearest H Mart growing up in Jersey, having this mini-store around the corner is a gift. I snag milk bread, Spam onigiri for lunch later, and a pack of carbonara Buldak ramen — I’m running dangerously low. I also grab some black sesame ice cream.

Back at my apartment, I replenish my body with some scrambled eggs and a dash of Cholula. I dig into the milk bread and put a slice in the toaster. It’s a little too burnt on one side, but I just put more peanut butter on that side and move on with my day. The last item on my morning docket is coffee. I love any hazelnut-flavored coffee — syrup, unsweetened, sweetened. This morning, I’m tragically out of hazelnut pods, so I opt for vanilla with a splash of oat milk. I’m working my way up to black coffee — then I’ll be a real adult. I drink it and get ready for my odd Thursday matinee.

Normally, our performance schedule is two on Wednesdays, two on Saturdays; Mondays are off days. We were able to take Christmas off, so we had a couple of random Monday performances to make up for it — but that also meant we had stretches of nine shows or ten shows in a row. This is definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’ve only ever been a part of limited-run shows before: I knew exactly how far I had to push my body. My mentality was, “At the end of this six-week run, I’ll sleep until I die.” This is more like an endurance challenge.

Eight shows a week — or more — requires a kind of discipline. I like to fuel my body with protein, but I’m also just a girl and want to eat yummy food. In between today’s shows, I order some beef pho from Obao. There’s nothing better than some good, hearty broth when it gets cold. Spam onigiri from H Mart is my little extra lunch treat. The second show comes and goes swimmingly.

After our second show, my friends and I have a date with a vampire named Nosferatu (Imax edition). We share a tub of popcorn, but, honestly, I abandon it to cover my eyes for 75 percent of the movie. I wanted a Dr. Pepper, but we went to AMC, and they sell Coke products, so they have Mr. Pibb, which is definitely not Dr. Pepper.

Friday, January 3
I start my day off with another homemade vanilla latte and more eggs, again with Cholula. I’m feeling especially crazy, so I hard-boil them. The six-minute egg is perfect; I like the center to be jammy.

I head to the theater early to rehearse with Darren. Normally, after opening, there aren’t any more rehearsals for the onstage cast, but this is a special occasion since we’re recording our cast album on Monday.

Before the show, I run out to get a salmon and avocado roll. Our music director gives me shit for eating grocery-store sushi. He tells me I’m “brave,” and you know what? Yeah. I am brave.

I would love to be having a sesame bagel with cream cheese, but I don’t want to tempt the phlegm gods by having something with dairy in it. There are plenty of old wives’ tales about what to avoid eating before singing, but I mostly just avoid dairy and spicy foods. I think sustaining your voice has more to do with lifestyle habits like drinking water and getting enough sleep. It’s not as glamorous as some secret trick. Mostly, I’ve just been trying to figure out a good routine for my body. I’ve found I need to eat my lunch/dinner — I don’t know what to call it — two and a half hours before they call places. That gives me enough time to digest but still gives me energy for the actual show. But it also means I’m ravenous after the show.

Finally home, I rip into a pack of Buldak carbonara ramen. My amazing standby Hannah Kevitt put me on to it. She says that she’ll sometimes add mushrooms or an egg to spice things up; tonight, I get a little fancy and add rice cakes. The spice level is perfect. It hurts so good. I pair it with the new season of Squid Game, which also hurts so good.

Saturday, January 4
I’m able to see a morning rehearsal of Parade’s national tour. But that also means I don’t really have time to cook anything. I turn to my tried and true — a Dunkin’ Donuts egg-and-cheese on an English muffin, with hash browns, of course, and a hot coffee with unsweetened hazelnut syrup and cream.

Our director, Michael Arden, also directed Parade. I think Michael is a genius. I love that he always has a take, and the take is always bold. It’s actually hard for him to watch something that’s frozen — meaning something that has already opened, so he can’t continue tinkering with it. I leave the rehearsal space bawling my eyes out, feeling rejuvenated going into the first of two shows. It’s really difficult to find time to see other shows because we’re all on the same schedule, so I pounce on any chance I get to see theater.

After the first show, I order pad Thai to the theater. Kare Thai is an old reliable in Hell’s Kitchen. She never does me wrong. Other people will occasionally go in on an order with me, but it depends on whether or not we all go to our respective between-show holes and just zombie.

I have to pace myself on two-show days. Maybe Happy Ending is a one-act musical, and when my body and mind are tired, not having to stop for an intermission actually helps with the momentum. One really tough thing is that I genuinely cannot pee during this show. Between being buckled into my costume and our backstage setup, I’d have to be very, very strategic.

I was fortunate enough to go home for Christmas this year. Some Broadway performers only get a single day off, so it’s not worth it for them to fly all the way back home, but I could just take the train home to Jersey. My mom sent me back with homemade shrimp-and-pork wontons, which I’ve realized are the perfect preshow meal. My dad cooks them, but my mom is the one encouraging him to “cook enough for Helen.” After the second show, I dig into a steaming bowl of wontons; I dress them with a dash of soy sauce, sesame oil, black vinegar, and two shakes of white pepper. These wontons feel like home: so easy, so warm.

Sunday, January 5
I start my morning off with a Pilates class and head back home to make, you guessed it, scrambled eggs and a vanilla latte. I’m still missing my hazelnut pods.

I’m off to the Belasco. I’ve only really been in very female-heavy shows, so I was nervous going into Maybe Happy Ending with a lot of men. I’ve always been intimidated by men because … well, we all know why. But the people I work with are generous, wonderful people. It feels like I have a brand-new set of big brothers.

My boyfriend and I make plans to go to Sugarfish after the show. I love that it’s a pseudo-omakase concept — not quite omakase, but the “Trust Me” menu allows your destiny to be decided by the chef: one little plate after the other, with a little description of the accompanying fish. It reminds me of Top Chef. Watching it taught me how to appreciate food in a different way. It made me want to understand why one thing gets paired with another — why a recipe uses yuzu instead of lemon, for example.

Obviously, the fish is always fresh, but for me, it’s about their sushi rice. It’s always perfectly seasoned with a kind of rice vinegar that could make anything taste good. We finish with a crab hand roll — a perfect mic drop for our sushi journey.

Monday, January 6
I wake up and try to romanticize my day as much as possible. Recording an original Broadway cast recording has been a dream of mine forever: When I was growing up, my parents always had a different Broadway album playing at home. This is our opportunity to give a taste of our show to people who don’t live near New York.

After eggs and the vanilla latte, I warm up my voice a little bit and go over the music notes that we worked on in our onstage rehearsal. I’ve been obsessively checking my voice for weeks leading up to the recording, nervous that I would wake up without one. I heat up some of my perfect singing food — wontons — before the session.

We record in Power Station. Some of the most iconic cast albums have come out of there. (Darren said that he recorded “Teenage Dream” there, too.) I try to take it all in as much as I can while also singing nonstop for four and a half hours. It feels so different from what I do every day. Something about singing a song you know will be in just one person’s ears at a time makes you perform the songs a little bit differently.

After the session, some of the cast and I decide to go down the street to Ippudo Westside to reward ourselves with a bowl of ramen. I order the Akamaru Shinaji — I love the roasted garlic in it. Perfectly hearty. I think of 12-year-old Helen; if she could see herself slurping ramen broth next to her Broadway co-star Darren Criss, I’m pretty sure she’d pass out.