Buttermilk Graffiti: A Chef’s Journey to Discover America’s New Melting-Pot Cuisine

by Edward Lee

There is a new American culinary landscape developing around us, and it’s one that chef Edward Lee is proud to represent. In a nation of immigrants who bring their own culinary backgrounds to this country, what happens one or even two generations later? What does their cuisine become? It turns into a cuisine uniquely its own and one that Lee argues makes America the most interesting place to eat on earth. Lee illustrates this through his own life story of being a Korean immigrant and a New Yorker and now a Southerner. In Off the Menu, he shows how we each have a unique food memoir that is worthy of exploration. To Lee, recipes are narratives and a conduit to learn about a person, a place, or a point in time. He says that the best way to get to know someone is to eat the food they eat. Each chapter shares a personal tale of growth and self-discovery through the foods Lee eats and the foods of the people he interacts with—whether it’s the Korean budae jjigae of his father or the mustard beer cheese he learns to make from his wife’s German-American family. Each chapter is written in narrative form and punctuated with two recipes to highlight the story, including Green Tea Beignets, Cornbread Pancakes with Rhubarb Jam, and Butternut Squash Schnitzel. Each recipe tells a story, but when taken together, they form the arc of the narrative and contribute to the story we call the new American food.

Genres: Food, Nonfiction, Memoir, Travel, Cookbooks, Cooking, Food Writing

304 pages, Hardcover

First published April 17, 2018

About the author

Restaurants include 610 Magnolia, MilkWood and Whiskey Dry in Louisville. Succotash National Harbor and Succotash Penn Quarter in Washington DC. Author of Smoke & Pickles and Buttermilk Graffiti, both published by Artisan Book.


Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.

Reviews

[Jenny (Reading Envy) · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Immigrants: we get the job done." (That's a Hamilton reference, y'all.)

Edward Lee veers off in a slightly new direction in this travel memoir that also includes recipes (I really want people to stop calling this a cookbook, it isn't.) He visits places in America that have unique food cultures because of immigrants living there, from Moroccan (and smen, an intriguing fermented butter) in Hartford, Connecticut to a Lebanese community in Mississippi. He even travels through West Virginia with Ronni Lundy, a section I really enjoyed because I have and love her cookbook. He basically invites himself along!

Edward Lee is curious and respectful, and sometimes people don't open up to him right away. His willingness to wait, to keep trying, and keep eating, yields interesting stories (but does not always yield the recipe secrets.) At the end of each section, he includes a few recipes. Sometimes they are pretty close to the food he consumed in the place, and other times it is his spin on it. All of the recipes are in the spirit of what he ate and how it got there, with a little extra bourbon from time to time (once a Kentucky boy....)

I have to admit that I don't expect chefs to be the best writers, but the craft of writing in this book blew me away.

"Paula sits with us for just a few minutes. Her parents still come in to make the kibbeh, she says. No one else can make it right. I can feel the restlessness in her bones that only another chef can truly understand."

He moves between a narrative and reflective voice, and offers a focus and respect to food creators that has been long overdue.

Thanks to the publisher for providing me early access through NetGalley. The book doesn't come out until April 17, but I couldn't wait to read it.

[Jess the Shelf-Declared Bibliophile · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is definitely high up on the list of best chef books I’ve read. I was already a fan of Edward Lee from cooking shows and from him judging many of my favorite cooking competition shows, but his books truly have blown me away.

While his first book was his memoir and basically what molded him into the person he is today, this exquisite work was a journey of little known cultures and how they shape the food they’re known for. And when I say journey, I don’t mean cursory Googling and trying a dish or two, I mean he dives head first into that culture in the most open minded and respectful way I can imagine.

I haven’t had the honor of trying Chef Lee’s restaurant, but if he blends ingredients together with the same love and poetry that he blends words together, then it truly must be a spectacular experience.

[Jenny · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked the fact that this book evoked the emotional connection people have with food. It’s not about the taste of something always but who you share it with or memories from the past.
I grew up going to visit relatives in West Virginia and eating those same pepperoni rolls. It’s not just the taste I remember but the trips in the car listening to my Dad singing country music on the way. This book is more than a cookbook, though there are great recipes, it’s about culture and memories.

[Taryn · Rating 4 out of 5]

My husband and I discovered after bingeing all available seasons of The Great British Bakeoff that we really enjoy food-related television, and our fascination led us to Netflix shows like Cooked, Ugly Delicious, and Salt Fat Acid Heat. Buttermilk Graffiti is like those shows, but in book form. Chef Edward Lee traveled around America, eating in local restaurants and worming his way into as many kitchens as he could, because he wanted to learn about the kinds of cooking being done in different regions by different cultures. It didn’t always go well—he often followed whims rather than plans, tried to infiltrate some very insular communities, and his main MO was to walk up to strangers and start asking questions. He at one point purchased a raw chicken sort of against his will and then didn’t have a way to refrigerate it, so he tried to give it to his server at a chicken restaurant—an impulse born of good intentions, but clearly not one bound to be received well. Despite these and other false starts, Lee does some meaningful reflecting on ideas like authenticity, cultural gatekeeping, and appropriation, and it’s fun to go along for the ride with him (especially since you’re not actually there suffering the awkwardness in person).

[Lauren · Rating 4 out of 5]

• BUTTERMILK GRAFFITI: A Chef's Journey to Discover America's Melting-Pot Cuisine by Edward Lee, 2018.

"I suppose that's what I'm looking for - not a legend, not a signpost, just a place where people come to cook." (pg 130)

I wasn't that familiar with Edward Lee as a chef, but I love food-oriented memoirs and travelogues, and this one came recommended by Jenny @readingenvy a few years back. Saw it at the library recently and decided to finally get to it.

🍲 Lee is a Korean-American chef from Brooklyn, who now lives and runs restaurants in Kentucky. He reveres traditional food ways and especially those of recent immigrants to the US and the small shifts over generations.

In BUTTERMILK GRAFFITI, he traces his own journey alongside the travels and interviews of cooks, bakers, farmers, distillers, and fishermen in this ambitious book.

Quintessential foodie cities like New Orleans, Miami, & New York are on the list, but also the smaller towns, off the beaten path: observing Ramadan fast in Dearborn, Michigan; Morrocan cooking in Westport, Connecticut; hotdogs in Helvetia, West Virginia; Lebanese kibbeh in Clarksdale, Mississippi; Vietnamese shrimp trawlers in coastal Texas; hopping on a book tour with a Nigerian chef friend; Peruvian enclaves of Paterson, New Jersey; Little Scandinavia in Ballard neighborhood in Seattle; the best Jewish deli in Indianapolis, among several others locations.

Lee's approach is spontaneous, gonzo, and borderline rude/pushy, but usually lands okay(ish?) with his subjects. He just shows up in peoples' eateries and tries to engage in conversation, and maybe get a peek at the kitchen... (did you even plan ahead, Ed?) Come on, that's a lot to ask of someone you just met! And someone who may not speak the same language as you.

As Lee was describing his experiences in people's restaurant and home kitchens, I kept on wondering what the people on the other side were thinking of him & the way he was recording his time with them...

So, while his methods didn't always sit right with me, and he tended to over-romanticize or tie things up with a pretty bow, I did enjoy this one, moreso the willingness of his subjects.

[Graham Oliver · Rating 2 out of 5]

The recipes and conceptualization of the food mechanics were fine (and I plan on trying to vegetarianize a few of the recipes), but the description/analysis/observations of the places/people/foodways were pretty simplistic/shallow/not interestingly written.

[Joe Jones · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is not your typical cookbook. Not even close. There are recipes at the end of each chapter but they are just a fraction of what I got out of this book. Instead Chef Edward Lee gave me a glimpse of different cultures that came to this country and the foods that define them and how they have adapted them. Wait, even that is only part of the story. I may never get to taste Chef Lee's food but I am thankful I am able to read his writing! He brings alive the idea of food being a central part of so many culture's lives in a way that makes you want to immediately start cooking his recipes for family and friends and discuss what you just read.

[Rhonda · Rating 4 out of 5]

our food reflects who we are as a people. I loved this book. Chapter 6 - WV

[Bookworm · Rating 1 out of 5]

What happens when immigrants come to a new country and want to bring foods from their heritage and country of origin to a new place that may not have the same ingredients or ability to produce the same thing? What changes do they go through? What stories do they tell? Author Lee attempts to tell us that story.

In a collection of stories, anecdotes, histories and more, Lee talks about various immigrant groups and the foods and stories they bring with them. Some are happy, some are sad, but all have a story. Interwoven in these chapters are his experiences and memories of trying new foods and meeting these new people.

At first, the book seemed fantastic. The introduction laid out what was to come. I thought it was interesting of how he talked about how he wondered about the story behind the person, of how "American" food is a story of transformation. The author flatly states it's not a cookbook (although there are many recipes), which was fine.

Sadly, this book was totally not it. I thought we'd be getting a microhistory of various foods and immigrant groups in the US. There is some of that but unfortunately Lee inserts himself way too often into the narrative. I nearly started laughing out loud when he wrote in his epilogue that he tried to give voice to people who don't often get one.

Really? Sometimes he talked way too much about himself. Yes, I understand that it's also a memoir and he himself also has an interesting story. But it really wasn't what the book was marketed to be and honestly I felt somewhat uncomfortable at points. He falls into the same trap a few too many other foodies fall into and I just couldn't help but get a sense of "exoticism" from the writing.

Maybe this wasn't the author's intention and maybe it's just me. But I really wish he had focused more on the food and the people rather than bringing up his perspective so much.

Some people might really enjoy this but overall I thought this could have been much better. I'd skip it.

[Mallory Howitt · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some good information about enclaves of immigrants across the US - really interesting stuff and the only reason this book gets stars. What's not interesting, however, is the nightmarish writing style. Lee's constant attempts to romanticize literally every situation he finds himself in are nauseating at best. We get it bro, you get a stiffy for the hands of (what your imagination tells you are) sad immigrant moms.

[Cathie · Rating 4 out of 5]

quite an interesting gourmand travelogue!

[Colleen · Rating 5 out of 5]

A fun read from an interesting perspective with recipes at the end of every chapter; my only complaint is that I read it too quickly and still want more.

[Sandy · Rating 2 out of 5]

Although I found this book interesting in the beginning by the time I was halfway through it all started becoming repetitive

[MargaretDH · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think you either like reading about food, or you don't, and if you like reading about food, you should pick this up.

Lee is a Korean-American chef who loves to eat, and to think about how food and culture shape one another, whether it's the humble slaw dog of West Virginia or a complex and layered Uyghur lamb noodle soup. As Lee visits cities all over the US, he visits restaurants, mostly humble establishments run by immigrants or working class people. He talks to the cooks and servers about their food, how it fits into their community and what cooking means to them.

Lee was born in the US to Korean immigrants. He often finds himself an outsider since whites (and blacks) find his Asian looks foreign, while the Korean immigrants he encounters think his basic Korean and born in American status makes him different from them. He uses this outsider status as a charming way to strike up conversations, learn about foods from scratch and ask questions others might not.

This whole book was lovely, and Lee appreciates fine dining just as much as road side stands or soul food straight out of someone's kitchen. He's an evocative writer, and endlessly enthusiastic about the way different flavours can be combined. He reminds me a little bit of Anthony Bourdain in that they are both willing to try anything, food or drink, and get to know just about anyone. His recipes at the end of each chapter are also inventive and accessible, and as soon as watermelon is in season, I will be pickling some, Russian style.

[Mitch Karunaratne · Rating 5 out of 5]

After reading this I have a massive list of places I want to go and food I want to eat...including eating a Shapiros pastrami sandwich at the Brownstone speedway track in Jackson County. However, it’s Edward Lee himself that is the hidden star of the show! His writing is brilliant, he’s thoughtful, challenging, inquisitive, kind and brave / crazy! He’s my new new found hero!

Lee takes us to meet and hear the stories of people making real food, food connecting them to their personal stories, community and history.

“ Cooking is not about perfection but about the flawed process of how we aim for a desired flavour”.

[Deb · Rating 4 out of 5]

For Cook the Books:

I was already a bit of an Edward Lee fan from his season of the PBS series, The Mind of a Chef and his stint on Season 9 of Top Chef, and his battle on Iron Chef, but I had not ever read any of his writing, something I was happy to rectify with this book. Buttermilk Graffiti: A Chef's Journey to Discover America's New Melting Pot Cuisine is Lee's second book, following Smoke and Pickles: Recipes and Stories From a New Southern Kitchen and his unique perspectives and passion for food and the people who cook it made it a win for me. I like his appreciation for the people he meets in his cross-country explorations and how descriptive his writing and storytelling is--it isn't surprising to read that he graduated magna cum laude from NYU with a degree in English literature before turning his skills to cooking. I really enjoy his approach to food too--with his unique combinations of cuisines and ingredients. He made me want to hang out with him in the car and in the kitchen.

As usual, I struggled with my time management these past two months and had to return my library print copy of the book. I ended up using an Audible credit and listening to half of it before finishing up with print again when a library e-book came available. I liked both reading and listening to Lee's prose, although I would have enjoyed him narrating the book (even though the narrator David Shih did a nice job). I felt like I could pick up and put down the book and appreciate each chapter as I meandered through it. The recipes included are an added treat. Buttermilk Graffiti was an enjoyable road trip and I put a library hold on Smoke and Pickles because I want to hear more from Lee.

You can see my review and my recreation of two recipes from the book here: https://kahakaikitchen.blogspot.com/2...

[Jennifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this. In an age when foodie culture has progressed beyond "trendy" and into "bougie," and food/travel memoirs are still dominated by white people "broadening their horizons" or whatever in response to accusations of cultural appropriation, Edward Lee's lack of pretension and genuine curiosity about food, and perhaps more importantly, the humans and communities behind the food, was what I needed. As someone who would say that I am probably familiar with a decent amount of different foods and cuisines, I learned a lot, both about world cuisine, how that cuisine was transported and transmuted (or preserved) in the US, and the stories behind them.

P.S. Reading "melting pot" in the subtitle made me cringe when I picked up the book, but the probable reason, a quote from a chef about his country's food being a pot simmering for hundreds of years, is in the book.

[Robin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating look at various American communities and the food that has evolved from melding regions and international cuisine. Lots of recipes included but while they were fun to peruse, they didn't hold much interest since my digestive issues can't tolerate many of the ingredients. I do want to watch Lee's series Mind of a Chef and his documentary "Fermented."

Thanks to the publisher for the advance reading copy.

[Linda · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this one, maybe because Lee writes about places and foods familiar to me: Louisville, Houston & the Gulf, fufu, beignets. His adventure with a dead chicken in Paterson, NJ, was a delight. This made me want to be more adventurous with my eating, she said, then ate a plate of spaghetti.

[Elizabeth · Rating 5 out of 5]

Edward Lee's journey to "Discover America's New Melting-Pot Cuisine" is thoughtfully written — sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes provocative, but mostly uplifting.

Read it cover to cover. It's well worth the time.

The plate of food has never been the be-all and end-all for me. Quite the opposite: for me, good food is just the beginning of a trail that leads back to a person whose story is usually worth telling. [Chapter 2: The Pugilist and the Cook, p.32]
~ ~ ~
[A] strength rises out of the cracks in the sidewalks of these immigrant neighborhoods [...] [It] is vibrant, with the din of a hundred languages and aromas of myriad spices. [Chapter 12: Immortality of Paterson, p214]

There are only a handful of actual recipes in this really wonderful book. We have already tried a couple of them (being careful to put our own spin on them...) and have others bookmarked.

We might make his Chanterelle Hummus at the end of Chapter 4: The Accidental Fast. But, if we do, we will NOT call it "hummus"....

CHANTERELLE HUMMUS In the age of culinary appropriation, there is a raging debate among chefs and food writers about what you can and cant' call hummus. For the most part, I tend to side with the purists. Black bean hummus isn't hummus (it's just gross). But I do call this a hummus because the chanterelles remind me of chickpeas in flavor and color. [Chapter 4: The Accidental Fast, p.83]

Chanterelles but zero chickpeas? I'm with the purists. You cannot call this hummus. It might be delicious, but please, Edward Lee, call it what it is: Duxelles, or Chanterelle Pate, or Chanterelle Spread, or.... well... anything but "hummus".

Bookmarked recipes:
Chapter 2: The Pugilist and the Cook:
• Amok Trey (Thai fish curry wrapped in a banana leaf
• Popcorn Bread
Chapter 3: The Unfamiliar Noodle
• Coffee-Glazed Bacon
• Fried Peanuts
Chapter 4: The Accidental Fast
• Lamb Arayes with Tahini Dressing and Pickled Sweet Peppers
• Chanterelle Hummus
Chapter 5: Exile and Cigars
• Jalapeno-Mint Aioli
• Chicken "Vaca Frita"
• Mojo Sauce
Chapter 6: Slaw Dogs and Pepperoni Rolls
• Miso Creamed Corn
Chapter 7: A Kibbeh in Clarksdale
• Nasturtium Leaf Kimchi
Chapter 9: A Lesson in Smen
• Seered beef Rib-Eye with Prunes, Almonds, and Bourbon-washed Butter
Chapter 10: Death and Aquavit
• Salmon with Horseradish Cream on Savory Pancakes
Chapter 11: trawling for Shrimp
• Vietnamese Crepes with Shrimp, Pork, and Herbs
Chapter 12: The Immortality of Paterson
• Pollo a la Brasa
• Aji Sauce
Chapter 13: Nigerian Hustle
• Beef Skewers with Cashews, Curry, and Black Pepper
Chapter 16: A Tale of Two Cornbreads
• Lacy Cornbread with Rhubarb Jam
• Janice's cornbread (even though there is not really any recipe)
• Shirley Mae's cornbread (even though there is not really any recipe)

It is because of [Ronni Lundy] that I don't put sugar in my cornbread. [Chapter 6]
~ ~ ~
Janice takes a fork and pierces the meat. It is good, she tells me. She makes me a plate and tells me to sit down [...] She tells me I have to eat it with cornbread. She makes a quick batter and spoons it onto a skillet. She calls it cornbread, but it it more of a corn pancake. It is light and fluffy, but with a gritty texture that tells you this is homemade food. It comes out hot and steaming. She tops it with a little pat of butter, and it immediately melts into a pool of gold that seeps into the corn cake.
[...]
[Shirley Mae] makes her hot water cornbread to order, and it can take twenty minutes sometimes. She boils water in a small pot. In a bowl, she spoons out cornmeal with a little bit of sugar. She slowly drizzles the hot water into the cornmeal and works the wet meal with her hands until she gets a dough that feels right. Then she breaks it into small nuggets and fries each one in a cast-iron skillet with a deep pool of hot oil. [Chapter 16]
~ ~ ~
[R]ecipes can be an incredibly personal expression. A simple conversation about the origin of a recipe can lead to an entire afternoon talking about one's childhood in Tennessee. There is nothing terribly difficult about making cornbread, either. I could give you Shirley Mae's recipe in one paragraph. But you'd be missing the point. In fact, I'm not giving you Shirley Mae's or Janice's recipes—partly because they don't translate easily into words. Each of them cooks from memory, and neither can stand following recipes. They would think it silly for me to even try to figure out the measurements. But don't despair. You should try to figure out your own recipe. You've come this far with me, and I hope by now you understand that the best cooking is not about perfection, but rather the flawed process of how we aim for a desired flavor.
      If you want to make cornbread, all you need is cornmeal, salt, a pinch of sugar, and some butter. You can use hot water, milk, or even a little oil if you want. Don't put eggs in it, though. And don't add too much refined flour. Mess around with the proportions, and you'll come up with a mixture you like. That's how I make cornbread at home. It comes out a little different each time, but that's the fun of it. [Chapter 16: A Tale of Two Cornbreads, p.305-306]
~ ~ ~
You will quickly notice that the recipes in this book are not accompanied by photos. This was done on purpose. I want you, the reader, to trust your instincts and cook the way I know you are capable of. Having a recipe published with an accompanying photo is a pretty modern invention. We have been following recipes without photos for centuries. When we don't know what the end result is supposed ot look like, the imagination is allowed to roam free and we come up with our own conclusions. Pictures are excellent guides, and can give you a goal to aspire to, but they can also have a negative effect. If you make a dish and it doesn't look exactly like the photo, you might feel a sense of failure. I don't want that. [Chapter 1: Introduction, 'A Note About the Recipes', p.8]

[Michelle · Rating 4 out of 5]

This really just made me want to travel the country and eat food all day long. Written as a series of essays, Lee's focus is on the meaning of culture and how it relates to the food we eat. He explores different subcultures within towns and cities that you wouldn't otherwise think of, and eats at "mom-and-pop" shops that are often overlooked in the larger restaurant/reviewer scene. The book, for sure, made me appreciate all the different food cultures I get to experience living in NYC, and also made me realize that I shouldn't always pass by the place that looks a little rough around the edges.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

Book 2 of the Brother/Sister book club was a big hit with my brother who went and got Lee’s Smoke & Pickles as well! This is similar to Michael Twitty’s The Cooking Gene but in essay length dives into the history of cuisines brought to the US as opposed to Twitty’s deep dive into his own heritage and cuisine of slavery. Lee is an engaging and engaged foodie and brings out the best in the locations he visits- one of which is slaw dogs from WVA-salut

[Bridget · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading is not easy for me right now, which is why this took me so long to finish. Even though it took me forever, I really enjoyed it. I love the way the author blends place, people, and food, while also discussing race, immigration, and what it means when cuisines become "Americanized." The recipes are super interesting and sound delicious, but I think most of them are more complex than I'd be comfortable attempting at home. Don't read this on an empty stomach.

[Sarah Taylor · Rating 4 out of 5]

The storytelling in this book was incredible and definitely broadened the way I think about food and culture. Super interesting!

[tee · Rating 5 out of 5]

Goddamn I love food writing. Lee does an exceptional job capturing atmosphere, and people, too. 😘chef’s kiss

[Dianne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Written like a travel/food journal, this book covers sixteen stories of different cultural and culinary food experiences. Each cook/chef has their own story to tell showing who they are in the seasonings and flavorings that are unique. This book will remind you to look for your roots in your cooking and how food can conjure up memories of your past. For me, it would be my grandmother’s fried chicken and my father-in-law’s potato cakes. Yes, you can tell that I am from the South. Food can let us all “understand and connect.”

[Jessica · Rating 4 out of 5]

Edward Lee spent two years traveling the US exploring immigrant food. Immigrants are what makes up America, so how do immigrants incorporate their food into their new culture and how does American food change with the influence of all this immigrant food? These are some of the questions Lee explores in this book. Each chapter focuses on a specific ethnic food in a small town in America. Often it's surprising as Lee claims the best Jewish Deli is in Indianapolis, or there is a huge Middle Eastern population and food culture in Dearborn, Michigan. Lee says, "The plate of food has never been the be-all and end-all for me. Quite the opposite: for me, good food is just the beginning of a trail that leads back to a person whose story is usually worth telling." (p. 32) and that is exactly what he does in this book he highlights not just ethnic food all over the US, but the specific people who are cooking this food and their stories. Definitely an interesting look at just how diverse the food culture is here in the US.

Notes on re-reading for Community Read 3/1 - 3/6/24:

I didn't enjoy this as much this time as I remember liking it the first time. I think it's just a case of bad reading timing. While I do like his writing and he is entertaining, this time reading it it just came across inauthentic to me. Like he would be irritated when strangers in a restaurant or bar didn't want to chat it up with him - dude, you're a stranger to them that's creepy. This time reading it I felt like he was trying to be like Anthony Bourdain on his TV shows - but those were obviously planned they didn't just film Bourdain trying to talk to strangers. I wasn't as impressed this time but I am looking forward to seeing him speak at our library event.

Some quotes I liked this time:

[I forgot that he mentioned Staunton, VA in the book which is now a place I go at least once a year thanks to Joel Salatin and Polyface Farm.]

[On talking about the longevity of Shapiro's deli in Indianapolis] "'All the chefs these days are artists, and that's fine, but then you have a restaurant linked to an individual, not a tradition. There will never be a restaurant that lasts one hundred years anymore. Chefs change their food depending on the trends. We don't.' 'So there is no chef here?' 'We don't call them chefs. It is family recipes that are made by everyone. It speaks to the culture of a group, not an individual. If we persist in making food that is an individual expression, our restaurants will only last as long as the artist's whim or the public's attention span. This...' he gestures to the room. 'This can go on forever.'" (p. 325)

"I hate it that these women, the true guardians of this tradition, are getting overlooked. They are the ones who kept this food alive while the culinary world was busy fawning over European or California cuisine. For Janice and Shirley Mae, food was never about a trend or a concept. It was, and is, their heritage. And because of women like them, we now have an actual flavor profile we can reference when we talk about dishes such as pork neck and turnip greens. It's a living thing, not just words in a historical text." (p. 356)

"Their two approaches to cornbread are not simply a variation in technique. They represent a rift in their upbringing: one rural and the other urban. I never would have made that distinction if I had not talked to them at length. I would simply have assumed that they made different cornbreads for reasons that random. It took me a long time to understand that their choices in their cornbread recipes tell an intimate story of their past." (p. 358-59)

[Charles Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant. There's a sentence at the end of chapter 10 that gut punched me.

[JD Mitchell · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was not expecting a whole lot from this but I live in the same city as Edward Lee and I love what he does for the community (feeding TSA workers, making donations to LGBTQ Youth Groups), so I figured I would check it out. And I loved it, almost immediately. In each chapter/essay, Lee profiles an immigrant/marginalized chef in a different city who deserves more attention. He writes about the culture and circumstances that birthed the food, the story behind the plate. At the same time, he weaves broader stories about authenticity and tradition and culture. He writes thoughtfully and provocatively:

Many of the immigrants I've met came to America because they were escaping war, famine, and persecution. In exchange for safety and work and a new chance at life, they rewarded us with myriad cuisines that we would otherwise never have been expose to. Nigerian food, Uyghir food, Burmese food... Do we need global tragedies to continue our exploration into world cuisines? Is that a sustainable system?

He includes 3ish recipes at the end of each chapter and I was so intrigued and moved by the end of each essay, that I wanted to cook at least one thing from most chapters (recent Google search: "where to buy beef tongue"). I made Pork Lab with Fried Egg on Popcorn Brad (it was ok, too salty for me) and Hoedduck, a Korean-style donut (loved it, will definitely make them again). I've dogeared several more recipes that I want to try, and I'm planning to explore an Asian grocery story this weekend for some ingredients.

Lee is very much a presence in the book. It's memoir-esque. He writes about growing up as a Korean-American and as a chef. He writes about his education in cooking and culture. He drinks and smokes and dances on tables. He's funny. I thought the entire book was so sincere and accessible and well done. It would be great to include a center insert of some of the people he met and places he visited. His book inspires me to try new recipes, meet new people, and challenge myself with new experiences.

[Mahlon · Rating 3 out of 5]

I like Edward Lee a lot, he's good on TV and a good storyteller. The book itself is surprisingly well-written but when he got deep into the origins of the names of various things like benights I just lost interest.