A chef’s dramatic LA journey
Roy Choi’s memoir teaches how to ‘cook with soul’
Sprinkled throughout Roy Choi’s new memoir/cookbook, “L.A. Son,” is the Korean phrase “sohn-maash.” Literally meaning the flavor of fingertips, the Korean-American chef knows it means more. Choi describes it is as a culinary touch passed down for thousands of years. It is love infused into food that binds families together. It is the ability to “cook with your soul.”
Written in tough, humorous prose, the book follows Choi’s ascent through the culinary world. The journey runs from his parent’s Korean restaurant in Southern California to New York’s famed Le Bernardin and back to L.A., where he masterminded the Korean-Mexican fusion truck Kogi BBQ. Through the ups and downs, Choi’s relationship with sohn-maash remains constant.
To Choi, Food and Wine’s Best New Chef i n 2010, sohn-maash reflects a deep identification with his immigrant experience and ancestral homeland — themes at the center of “L.A. Son.”
Born in 1970, Choi’s early life was in some ways a quintessential Korean-American experience. His parents met while studying in the United States, and upon returning to a Korea in the throes of rapid industrialization, found it difficult to readjust. They moved back to Los Angeles, where rents were cheap and Koreans were putting their stamp on the city.
As his parents struggled to make ends meet, Choi grappled with racial identity issues. Their fortunes turned when they became the beneficiaries of a system within the Korean-American community, in which families contribute to a pot and take turns receiving the lump sum. They opened a restaurant in Anaheim, where Choi got his first taste of the food industry.
But “clouds were gathering.” The restaurant eventually went out of business and Choi became a wayward child. In high school, he got into racially-motivated fights and involved in drugs. After a bout with crack cocaine, he became addicted to gambling. He eventually crashed, needing to be rescued by his parents.
“Sometimes, i n the deepest of moments, there are no words,” he says in the memoir, co-written by Tien Nguyen and Natasha Phan. “There is only food. There is a bowl of rice. There is kimchi. Broiled fish. Soups and noodles...the only things that communicate forgiveness and repair a broken soul.”
Choi eventually became the valedictorian of the Culinary Institute of America (CIA) in New York, interning at Le Bernardin under famous chef Eric Ripert. He worked his way up through the hotel industry, landing a job at the Beverly Hilton.
The book touches on his failures as well. David Overton, the founder of Cheescake Factory, asked him to help get his Asian restaurant RockSugar get off the ground; but Choi was soon fired because he struggled with the frenetic, high-volume atmosphere.
The event, however, was a blessing in disguise. Soon after, Choi co-founded Kogi BBQ, which helped revolutionize the food truck industry and gave birth to tacos with Koreanstyle meat. He now operates the restaurants Chego!, A-Frame and Sunny Spot.
Interwoven with the stories are his recipes, which reflect the diversity of food in L.A. as well as his love of Korean food. Starting with Korean staples such as kimchi, Choi offers an array of simple recipes that incorporate traditional techniques with street food. The dishes run from the simple (chorizo and eggs, beef check tacos) to the more involved (crispy duck breast with polenta and sweet and sour mango sauce).
Choi paints himself as a tough, streetwise character, and the language is accordingly straightforward. But behind that image, however, “L.A. Son” not only brings readers behind the doors of the food industry, but into the living room of an immigrant family, warts and all. It’s a widely relatable read that lovingly puts Choi’s Korean experience at the center of the story.