If I hadn't constantly questioned my identity, I might not have become the chef I am today… Among the Korean heritage I inherited, the most important thing is food…
I wrote this book to tell the stories of immigrants. I wanted to document the tales of their food that traveled thousands of kilometers to flow into every home in America.’ -Edward Lee from "Buttermilk Graphy"
On Sunday morning at 9 a.m., I met ‘Bibim Human’ Edward Lee. He said he attended a charity dinner for orphans at Il Porcino restaurant the night before. He looked tired but didn't appear to be out of energy. After the Netflix show "Culinary Class Wars," he became a beloved celebrity among people of all ages. When I mentioned I was going to interview Edward Lee, even his elementary school-aged son asked for an autograph.
Thinking about it, even on the thrilling plot typical of a survivor cooking show that 'pushes people to the brink', Edward created luxurious and humorous flavors moment by moment. I couldn't taste the food he cooked, but while reading his writings, I could guess the secret. The food essay, which received the ‘James Beard’ award, the Academy Award of the culinary world, 'Buttermilk Graphy' is like the life recipe of Bibim Human Lee.
As if he had taste buds installed in his pupils, he visualizes all the scenery of the world through food and flavor. The whiskey from an Irish bartender who was a former boxer, the dinner from a Cambodian chef based on fish entrails, the noodles from a Uyghur restaurant that taste like a wet forest, and the pot dishes from Peru that have been kneeling for 500 years are fascinating, but I was completely captivated by the minor foods mentioned in the scenes of Edward's love and breakups.
It came out as ‘genre literature’ with the most colorful characters, a hooking story, and rhythmic editing among the books I've read recently.
Imagining the immigrant home-cooked meals created with patience and intimacy without taking shortcuts, I shared the conversation with Lee, my mouth watering.
-‘Buttermilk Graphy’ is a new genre of literature in the ‘melting pot’ style. This is truly the first book of its kind. Without pretentiousness yet with elegance… Edward the writer, Edward the chef… Which came first?
"Haha. From a young age, my passion has been twofold. One is cooking, the other is literature. I wanted to be a writer, but I didn't know what kind of writer I could be. After graduating from college, I wrote, but as you know, being a writer can be a lonely job. On the other hand, being a chef is enjoyable because I can work in a lively place with various people."
Although my first job was as a chef, I always wrote alongside it. I wrote a little in the kitchen as well. Nowadays, as I grow older, I want to read and write quietly, alone, even more. It feels like I have come full circle back to my place.
-All the cities and journeys in the book were fascinating, but starting the story of the beignets at Café du Monde in New Orleans was a stroke of genius. You used to have breakfast there every morning while working part-time at a New York restaurant with Brandi, the sex worker, and she said every time she had a sandwich, it felt like she was back in her hometown, right? When you go back to your hometown of New Orleans, you must try the beignets at Café du Monde.
"There was a reason I started with that story. I didn't grow up wealthy, and I learned about food from everyone around me. They were poor, and among them were criminals and women like Brandi who worked in the sex industry."
Brandi said she disappeared one day without saying goodbye. In the book, Edward reminisced about those times while biting into a powdered soft donut from a café in New Orleans.
-Is there a trigger that sparked this endlessly humble and rare food adventure from Brooklyn to the Appalachian Mountains?
"I've always wondered, what exactly is American food? Of course, there are questions about Korean cuisine too. What's the best galbi? What does the best noodle taste like? But when it comes to saying 'Korean food', isn't there an agreement on the criteria? The same goes for Mexican food and Chinese food. But when you ask what American food is, it's hard to answer. Is it a hamburger? A hot dog? French fries?"
Edward's statement that he wanted to find the 'identity of American food' as a chef is oddly striking. America has always been a 'magnificent' country to non-Americans. A young, strong, compassionate yet ruthless country. I have never been curious about traditional foods from that country.
-What traditional food in America are you tracking down?
"American food is the sum of foods brought by immigrants from each country, adapted to the environment. I sincerely hope the scope of American food expands even further."
This special transcontinental journey to find the secrets of food, people, and life is also Edward Lee's poignant coming-of-age story from youth to middle age. Edward, the teenager who sprayed paint on the walls of New York streets hiding behind graffiti, Edward, the nameless chef who garnished sauces on pretty plates, Edward, who flew to Kentucky to cook Southern food, Edward, who became a global entertainer on Netflix's "Culinary Class Wars"...
-Was graffiti the beginning of everything?
"It was the beginning of youth and wandering. Graffiti only lives for a few days at most. Isn't food the same? No matter how great the dish is, it enters someone's mouth and disappears within minutes. Because it doesn't last forever, it is more beautiful."
-It's similar to life!
"That's right. So we must enjoy it. Because it won't last forever."
Like seasoning a good life, I spoke of mixing 'enjoyment' and 'beauty'. I wrote language like a poet.
-Considering your inclusivity regarding food, it's somewhat surprising that you participated in a survivor program. Moreover, why is the American Iron Chef champion on "Culinary Class Wars"?
"In the beginning, Netflix suggested I be a judge. They asked me, 'Can you speak Korean?' and I lied, saying 'yes' (laughs). Later, when we had a Zoom meeting, they were surprised. 'You can't speak Korean!' (laughs). A few weeks later, they asked if I could come as a participant. There was no reason to say no. I had always been looking for opportunities to use Korean ingredients, and I wanted to do something important in Korea before I die. Isn't it beautiful to become a point of cultural consolidation?"
However, I made one commitment. I decided not to prepare French Michelin cuisine for this competition but to only create new dishes with Korean ingredients.
-Last night, I rewatched the key scenes from "Culinary Class Wars." Every word was beautifully poetic. Especially the letter read during the finale and the tteokbokki semifreddo felt even more poignant.
"In fact, when I came to Korea to participate in the show, I felt very lonely. While staying alone in the hotel room, I kept asking myself, 'Why am I here?', 'What do I want to do?', 'Do I want to win?' I thought I wouldn't get past the first or second rounds. But as the show progressed, I survived, which was tough because I was constantly traveling back and forth to America."
Even amid the struggles, I didn't lose interest because of the concept of the show. If you make it to the finals, the cooks from humble backgrounds can reveal their names! Names are related to identity. 'My name is OOO. Who am I?'...
-Yet in the final round, as a white chef, revealing a different name, an unintended layer was added to "Culinary Class Wars." My Korean name is 'Lee Kyun'... what a twist that flips the contrast of black and white!
"When about halfway through the show, I promised myself that if I made it to the finals, I would reveal my Korean name. In fact, I had kept my Korean name secret. It's not that I was hiding it, but only my mom and sister knew my name. Growing up with a name that no one knew was a really strange experience. I wanted to reveal my Korean name at the midpoint of my life, and have the chance to use it."
To confess, I was more worried about having to speak Korean than about cooking. It took a long time for me to write in Korean, and I was so nervous that I couldn't memorize it all, so I asked for understanding and read it on-site. It was a letter filled with personal feelings, and after the show ended, many Korean-Americans contacted me saying they were grateful for how I voiced their feelings. I couldn't win the show, but I felt a pride in having accomplished something.
-This time around, winning didn't mean much. The spotlight and advertisements all focused on you (laughs).
"Ah... I feel really sorry for Sungjun (laughs)."
-Some chefs control the ingredients to create perfect dishes, but you created open dishes while loving the imperfection itself. It's not safe, but it's interesting at every moment. Was the tteokbokki semifreddo actually delicious?
"Of course. But I should have focused more on the cooking (laughs)."
-Do you tend to choose adventures that you haven't tried rather than what you are good at?
"I think so. I enjoy using different parts of my brain. Writing, cooking, and appearing on TV give me different kinds of joy. Cooking is a fight against time. If I prepare food at 9 a.m., everything must be ready by 5 p.m. If guests arrive and the beef and noodles aren't served on time, it's a big problem.
On the other hand, when I write, I don’t look at the clock. Sometimes it takes me 5 hours to write a chapter, or even just a single sentence. I could write 10 chapters and decide to discard them all the next day. A TV show has another dynamic. I enjoy how my brain responds differently to situations and creates various identities.
-You often choose the most difficult menu instead of the familiar ones in your book. How was the Cambodian dinner you tasted in the 'Boxer and Chef' chapter with Sam? The 'Prahok' made from fish and entrails, with root vegetables, sounds terrifying just to imagine.
"It was really delicious. Sam's dishes make you crave them more the more you eat. Would it be understood if I say it has the taste of fermented fish without the spicy seasoning? Thai or Vietnamese food uses fish sauce and fish as sub-ingredients but balances it with lemon or lime juice. If you balance the strong aroma and texture, it makes your mouth water."
-Southeast Asian food is salty, spicy, pungent, and sour! What is the charm of Korean food?
"Lightness. The balance of lightness! Countries like Vietnam or Thailand are hot and tend to ferment a lot for preservation, which is why they become strongly aromatic and rich in flavor. In contrast, Korean food is light. Westerners often think Korean food is spicy, mainly because of gochujang.
Spicy food is simple; you enjoy it while sweating and drinking water, but Korean food, which is mild and subtle, makes you savor the taste almost meditatively. Even in samgyetang, you can discover various flavors with each bite. I also like Baek-kimchi the most. My grandmother made it really delicious.
-What is your favorite Korean seasoning?
"There are too many, but first, gochujang. Adding gochujang to Western dishes like cheese or butter makes the flavor so much better. Recently, I also use omija and mugwort powder often at the restaurant I run. The bitterness of mugwort powder creates a clash of roughness and elegance."
-It was heartwarming to directly bring and serve Korean food to Cynthia, the owner of the café in Montgomery, who distrusts Korean restaurants. I agreed with your opinion that the reason we can’t eat unfamiliar foods is not fear of the unknown, but rather not trusting the person who made the food.
"Cynthia shook her head, saying she could handle a little bulgogi but absolutely couldn't eat nakji-bokkeum. Though it seems very different, the truth is that humans create food in similar ways. Regardless of cultural backgrounds, there are forms of dumplings, stews, noodles, and pancakes, with variations in seasoning ingredients and techniques depending on the environment.
I have always believed that Korean ingredients are the best in the world, which is why I have actively introduced Korean food. Seven years ago, when this book was published, it was difficult to find decent Korean restaurants outside of LA and New York. Nowadays, thanks to "Culinary Class Wars," the popularity of Korean food is surging.
-What was it like to write and star in the film 'Fermentation' in America?
"It was the best. Most of my favorite foods are fermented. Cheese, doenjang, soy sauce, beer, salami, bread… It was a movie in search of various fermentation artisans, and it was a delightful experience."
-What do the restaurant '610 Magnolia' in Louisville, Kentucky, and 'Shia', a Korean dining in Washington, mean to you?
"Both are fine dining and represent different points in my life. '610 Magnolia' embodies my longing to understand American food when I first moved to Kentucky 22 years ago. The Korean dining 'Shia' has been open for about six months. It represents the next chapter of my life. I want to show how Korean food and American food can harmonize. For me, restaurants are very personal spaces, and I want to express who I am through those restaurants."
-Seeing you, it seems you blend well into any culture. Your enthusiasm for gochujang and fermentation in America and your role in advertisements for hamburgers and Coca-Cola in Korea both fit well. Regardless of the genre—restaurants, publishing, TV shows—you seem at ease.
"Haha. My life is good. But when I get too busy, my wife complains, asking me to slow down."
-Have you ever felt pressure?
"I don't feel pressure."
-Are you truly under no pressure at all?
"It may not be completely absent, but as I’ve gotten older, I've developed the attitude that 'I won’t die because of this' and 'things will be fine the next day.' I have a variety of interests, so even if something doesn't turn out well immediately, I just move on to the next thing. I'm not obsessed with it.
Similarly, even if I've accomplished something greatly, I don't linger there for long. I spent some time with my family, but I don't watch "Culinary Class Wars" again either. Rather than analyzing the past, I just keep moving to the next thing—that's how my brain functions.
-Don't you remember the tough times, like during the 'Tofu Hell' competition?
"'Tofu Hell' wasn't that hard compared to the trembling I felt when speaking Korean (laughs)."
-So what do you fear?
"Boredom. I'm most afraid of boredom."
-Do you not fear being judged by others?
"Since I've always been in the position of being judged, I've become trained in that regard. Now I don't care how anyone evaluates me. Even if my PR manager recommends, I don't even read good articles about the restaurant I run. If I enjoy positive criticism, I also have to accept negative evaluations. I don't want to be swayed by that kind of judgment. I decide the standards of judgment myself."
-As a child of immigrants, were you free from your parents’ judgments? In the last interview, your mother took pride in saying, 'Edward graduated from Bronx Science, a school that has produced the most Nobel laureates.'
"(smiling) In fact, my mother was embarrassed by me for years. After graduating from New York University's English department… while children of my mom's friends were thriving with prestigious careers, I was just a chef. Life in the kitchen was tough, and my mom had felt terrible about me for a long time. She endlessly worried about how my life would unfold (laughs). Of course, she takes pride in me now."
-The story of your father's wish for you to become a diplomat deeply resonates. Your mother wanted you to have a delicious lunch rather than be present at your father's passing, and your father passed before you could grill a plate of meat with your nephews. How did you feel writing about your father in the book?
"My relationship with my father was different from my relationship with my mother. When I write, it’s usually late at night, just me and my laptop. My father passed away while I was writing this chapter. This chapter was the only one I wrote from beginning to end in one sitting. After sending it to the editor at dawn, I regretted it in the morning. But the editor thought differently: 'This must be included, Edward.'
It was a very personal story, but I could write it because it was tied to food.
"I don't read my books well. However, by chance, I had to read that part at a reading event at the request of the audience. Until then, I had never read it out loud, but while reading this book aloud for the first time, I stopped and cried."
‘When the ECG monitor turned back on, my mother told me to take the children for Korean barbecue and bring back some for her... I didn't want to go. I wanted to be forgiven for how long I had kept my distance and for not being a proper father... I placed my hand on my father's limp hand and slipped mine beneath it... I kissed his forehead, telling him it was okay for him to go, that we would be okay. After that, I took my nephews out for lunch’-from Lee Kyun’s 'Buttermilk Graphy.'
-How did you come to forgive your father, who had kept his distance from you for so long simply because you became a chef?
"Well… rather than forgiving him, I set him free. Both my parents worried about me, so I wanted to tell my father not to worry, that it was okay, and to leave in peace."
-Have you ever cooked budaejjigae with Bologna sausage, following the recipe you wrote in the book, for your father?
"No… it would have been great if I had done that."
We also talked about 'Crying at H Mart,' which deals with Korean food and your mother's passing. When I asked if you had read that book, you said you had only seen a short part.
-What food or smell do you miss the most?
"Kkakdugi. My grandmother always made the best kkakdugi. I miss my grandmother."
-What foods do you enjoy eating with your wife?
"On New Year's Day, my wife makes German-style cabbage stew, and I cook Korean tteokguk to eat with the child."
-As a Bibim Human, what makes you happiest to eat?
"Bibim naengmyeon! It's even better when paired with jokbal (laughs)."
-Lastly, what does work mean to you?
"I do not work. There's an old saying in America: 'If you do what you love, you don’t work.' For instance, taking pictures is work; I don’t like it (laughs). Everything else is not work for me."
-If it's not work, is it love?
"Something beyond love fills my brain. I like this state."