My Rating: 4.5 stars
Let me start off this review with a full disclosure: prior to deciding to read this book, I had never heard of David Chang or Momofuku. I know it's probably hard to believe, especially since there is a Momofuku restaurant in Los Angeles (though to my defense, it's in the downtown area, which is far from where I actually live) and from what I understand (after the fact, of course), Chang is "prolific" enough to have his own Netflix show, podcast, as well a bestselling cookbook (which means he is not some unknown chef who spends his time holed up in the kitchen), so it's not like there aren't plenty of opportunities to have heard of him. In all honesty, I chalk up my ignorance to the fact that I'm not a "foodie" (I love food, but I'm definitely not the "food connoisseur" type), plus I don't like to cook so there's not a whole lot of reason for me to pay too much attention to the food world here. So the big question then is how did I hear about this memoir and why would I want to read it in the first place? Well, the answer is a bit complicated. I first heard about Chang's memoir on a podcast that I was listening to, then later on, coincidentally, I came across an article about Chang that talked about the "rarity" of his success as a chef (and now media personality as well) of East Asian (Korean) descent who was able to "make it big" in the American culinary world. Being of East Asian descent myself (Chinese), this naturally piqued my interest, and so despite not having much clue beforehand who David Chang is and even less idea of what goes on in the culinary world, I decided to pick this memoir up anyway and go with it.
In this memoir, through the "war stories" he tells about his experiences coming up the ranks as a chef and then later, a restaurant mogul, David Chang gives us a candid, fascinating glimpse into the culinary world. What I appreciated most though was the way he presented the culinary industry – and his place in it -- with an intensity and raw honesty that I wasn't really expecting. On the one hand, he talks about the rewarding satisfaction of creating something that others enjoy, even admire, and why some people would be attracted to the world he inhabits, but on the other hand, he also presents the harsh realities of his world (the grueling hours, the constant stress and pressure, the physical and mental exhaustion, the emotional toll that the often fast-paced and sometimes toxic environment can have on you, etc. ) and why it's not a profession that everyone is cut out for. In one of my favorite sections of the book, the chapter at the end where Chang outlines 33 Rules for Becoming a Chef, he starts off by saying : "For those who became chefs because they HAD to, it's crazy that anybody with other options would WANT to work in restaurants" – then subsequently lays out point by point what to expect, in a way that, by the time you get to the end, you get the feeling that being a chef is one of the worst jobs you can possibly choose.
In addition to his candid take on the culinary / restaurant industry however, Chang is also honest about his personal struggles and shortcomings. He talks openly about his anger issues, about his battle with depression that essentially pushed him to open Momofuku in the first place, about how he still struggles with suicidal thoughts, about how he sees a therapist on a consistent basis and oftentimes relies on medication to function. He's also resigned to the fact that these issues will likely continue to follow him the rest of his life, yet he refuses to let that stop him from continuing to do what he loves. What makes this revelation a big deal is the fact that he comes from a culture where mental illness is an uncomfortable topic that is not usually discussed publicly (it's very seldom acknowledged or talked about within the family unit either). This part of Chang's story, as well as when he talks about his family background, resonated the most for me on a personal level. A lot of what he experienced and struggled with as a second generation Asian-American (whose parents immigrated to the U.S. from an East Asian territory) were definitely familiar, as I've encountered much of the same as well in my childhood (the same can probably be said of most Asian kids who grew up in immigrant households). The cultural influences relevant to the family environment he grew up in, the nuances of his relationship with his parents and siblings, the racial discrimination he encountered at school and elsewhere, the struggle with his own identity and never really feeling that he fit in anywhere (he refers to himself as a "twinkie" – yellow on the outside, white on the inside – hence, rejected by white kids because his face is "too Asian" while at the same time rejected by the Asian kids because everything else about him is "too white") – these were all things that he struggled with growing up, though the hardest part is actually having to reconcile all of it physically, mentally, and emotionally as an adult. Ironically, in Chang's case, he ended up choosing a career that exacerbated these issues rather than alleviate them. Summarizing these childhood experiences in one of the earlier chapters of his book, Chang writes: "This all leads me to question whether kitchen custom created my personal brand of rage. I think the job – the fear, the stress, the habits I'd learned, the culture – unlocked what was already roiling inside me."
What is interesting to note is that Chang's struggle with his own identity and cultural background is reflected in his restaurants. As with many Asian cultures, when it comes to food, there is a "traditionalist" sentiment that dictates what can and can't be done with certain dishes, especially ones that are culturally significant. Chang put it best when he described a meal he attended put on by a Korean chef living in Japan who came up with a celery kimchi dish: "I began to understand that what holds us back from culinary progress is often some cultural roadblock that we honor in the name of preservation – the kind of arbitrary roadblock that says, You're not supposed to do that with kimchi." This cultural sentiment played a huge role growing up too, as Chang also wrote about the overwhelming need to blend in as kids, which basically meant hiding the "traditional" foods that he would normally eat at home from his white classmates out of shame and also fear of being further made fun of and teased. All of these experiences made it difficult for Chang to completely embrace his Korean heritage and for many years, with his restaurants, he worked to bury "any sign of Koreanness under other influences and disguises" – for example, all of his restaurants have Japanese names rather than Korean, and up until he opened Majordomo in Los Angeles, he avoided having Korean dishes on the menu (even with Majordomo, there is actually no "traditional" Korean food on the menu , but many of the dishes do have Korean influences, as does the design of the restaurant itself). This is also one of the things that makes the Momofuku enterprise unique, as it doesn't identify with any one particular culture – rather, it's an eclectic mix of influences from various cultures (Chang said that whenever he is cornered for an answer on what type of cuisine his restaurant should be categorized as, his number one response is usually "American").
Even though I can be quite picky when it comes to memoirs, over the years, I've read my fair share of both really good ones and really bad ones. David Chang's Eat A Peach definitely falls under the "really good" category and is a memoir that I absolutely recommend. For those who are interested in joining the culinary industry, this is an insightful read, especially the last section 33 Rules for Becoming a Chef – the advice that Chang gives in this section is invaluable! For those who, like me, aren't really interested in the culinary world, but just want to read a well-written, fascinating memoir about a person whose experiences are relatable and resonant, even for someone coming from completely different backgrounds, this is definitely a great choice. Reading this memoir actually spurred me to research Momofuku online so I could learn more about it. Oh and I now have Majordomo on my bucket list of restaurants that I would like to visit and eat at some day (once this whole pandemic thing is over of course)!
Received ARC from Clarkson Potter via NetGalley
No comments:
Post a Comment