Introduction
David Chang is one of the most influential chefs in America today. His Momofuku restaurant empire, which began with a tiny ramen shop in New York's East Village in 2004, has redefined modern American cuisine and dining culture. But Chang's journey to culinary stardom was far from straightforward. In his memoir "Eat a Peach," Chang provides an intimate, honest look at his life and career, detailing his struggles with mental illness, his unconventional path to becoming a chef, and the philosophy behind his groundbreaking approach to food.
This book offers readers a behind-the-scenes glimpse into the mind of a culinary innovator. It's a story of perseverance, creativity, and the power of embracing one's unique perspective. Through Chang's experiences, we learn about the evolution of American dining, the pressures of the restaurant industry, and the challenges of building a business empire while battling personal demons.
Chang's Early Years: A Lack of Direction
David Chang's childhood in Virginia didn't provide any obvious signs that he would become a renowned chef. Growing up in a Korean immigrant family, Chang had a complicated relationship with his heritage and his parents. His father was particularly strict, often scolding and punishing young David. The love in their household felt conditional, based on success and achievement.
Golf became Chang's primary way of earning his father's approval. He started playing at age five and quickly showed promise, winning back-to-back Virginia state championships at nine years old. However, even this success came with pressure. His father insisted that Chang stop being ambidextrous, fearing it would hinder his golf swing. This experience taught Chang early on that failure was not an option in his family.
As a teenager, a growth spurt ruined Chang's golf game, leaving him feeling like a disappointment to his father. This sense of inadequacy would follow him for years to come.
Chang's relationship with food during his childhood was complicated. He felt embarrassed by the Korean meals his mother cooked, reflecting a broader discomfort with his family's Koreanness. However, he did have positive food experiences, particularly when his grandfather would take him out for sushi. Interestingly, his grandfather's appreciation for Japanese cuisine stemmed from the Japanese occupation of Korea, during which he was brainwashed to think of himself as Japanese.
After high school, Chang's path remained unclear. He studied theology in college, mainly because he found it easy due to his religious upbringing. After graduation, he drifted between teaching English in Japan and working a soul-crushing job in finance. It wasn't until he enrolled in a six-month program at the French Culinary Institute in New York City that Chang finally found something he enjoyed doing.
The Beginning of a Culinary Career
At 22, Chang felt behind his peers in the culinary world, many of whom had been cooking since their teens. Determined to catch up, he took a full-time job at Mercer Kitchen and worked weekends answering phones at Craft, Tom Colicchio's restaurant. Chang was drawn to Colicchio's modern American culinary sensibilities, which he preferred to the overly complicated, Eurocentric fine dining that dominated the scene.
Chang's persistence paid off when he convinced the cooks at Craft to let him work in the kitchen for free. Despite his lack of experience and frequent embarrassments, he kept showing up and working hard. Chang appreciated the daily fresh start that kitchen work provided – every day was a new opportunity to improve and learn. After six months of unpaid work, Craft offered him a paid position.
However, as Chang was finding his footing in the culinary world, he was also grappling with depression. After a couple of years at Craft, he moved to the high-end Cafe Boulud on the Upper East Side, hoping to overcome his intimidation of French-style kitchens. The work was intensely demanding, with dishes requiring numerous meticulously prepared components.
Six months into his time at Cafe Boulud, Chang became disillusioned. The fancy cuisine didn't align with the type of food he wanted to cook or eat, and he felt lost about his career direction. Meanwhile, personal issues compounded his stress: his mother was battling breast cancer, and his brother and father were embroiled in a business feud.
This period marked the beginning of Chang's longest depressive episode. He constantly contemplated suicide, leading to a reckless attitude towards his own life, particularly when it came to substance abuse. After a particularly dangerous incident where he fell through a glass table at a party, Chang realized he needed help.
Chang began seeing a therapist, Dr. Eliot, on the Upper East Side. In therapy, he started to understand the themes of his depression: feelings of inferiority, inadequacy, not fitting in, and a belief that life was meaningless and arbitrary. He was angry and felt let down by everyone. However, even during this challenging period of self-reflection, Chang remained determined to cook. He knew he didn't want to follow the traditional chef's path – he needed to find his own way.
The Birth of Momofuku
Between his stints at Craft and Cafe Boulud, Chang returned to Japan to cook and learn Japanese cuisine. This experience proved transformative. Despite being constantly broke, Chang discovered he could still eat incredibly well in Japan. He was struck by the egalitarian nature of dining there, where blue-collar workers and billionaires sat side by side in welcoming, relaxed restaurants that didn't sacrifice food quality.
This observation made Chang question why dining in America was so exclusionary. He began to believe that a more egalitarian style of dining, inspired by what he saw in Asia, could be successful in the United States. In his therapy sessions with Dr. Eliot, Chang started to vocalize these ideas for the first time, saying, "I think the underground in food can become overground." This hunch would ultimately define Chang's career.
However, when Chang quit Cafe Boulud and started talking about opening a ramen shop in the East Village, few people took him seriously. In 2004, most Americans only knew ramen as cheap, microwaveable noodles. Moreover, according to culinary tradition, Chang should have worked for another five years under great chefs before opening his own restaurant. His idea seemed bizarre to many, and no one wanted to work with him.
Undeterred, Chang found a tiny former fried chicken spot with good foot traffic in the East Village. To secure funding, he approached his father, nervously pitching the idea as his last chance to invest in him. Surprisingly, his father agreed, combining forces with his Korean friends in Virginia to loan Chang $100,000.
With the location and funding secured, Chang still needed a cook. He found one through an ad on Monster.com: Joaquin "Quino" Baca, who had just moved to New York for a high-end French restaurant job but ended up disappointed. With no other options, Quino joined Chang in opening Momofuku Noodle Bar.
Momofuku's Rocky Start and Eventual Success
The early days of Momofuku Noodle Bar were chaotic and uncertain. Chang and Quino were essentially running the entire operation themselves, without even servers to help. They were so busy that they barely had time to step back and assess what they were doing or why it wasn't working.
The initial menu was a random assortment of snacks and soups, lacking a clear point of view. Chang and Quino realized they were trying too hard to fit in with what they thought people wanted, like putting dumplings on the menu even though Chang didn't want to make them and customers weren't ordering them.
Just as they were about to run out of money, Chang and Quino had an epiphany: nobody really knew what to expect from a noodle bar in New York at that time. This realization freed them to be more creative and true to themselves.
The turning point came when they started catering to their restaurant industry peers who visited regularly. For these customers, Chang and Quino got creative, drawing from their diverse backgrounds – Quino's Mexican-American heritage and Chang's Korean and Japanese influences – and combining them with other culinary inspirations. This approach led to their eureka moment: American food could be anything.
With this new perspective, they revamped the menu to offer bold, spicy, surprising dishes that drew from various culinary traditions. Suddenly, Momofuku Noodle Bar had lines out the door every night. Their pork bun – featuring pork belly, hoisin, pickles, and steamed bread – became an instant hit, with 1,000 sold in the first week alone. The media took notice, and New York's dining scene was abuzz about the little noodle shop in the East Village.
However, success brought its own challenges. Chang, who had stopped going to therapy, was drinking too much and frequently lashing out at his kitchen staff. The restaurant's open kitchen meant that customers often witnessed these outbursts, leading to negative publicity. One blogger even wrote a post denouncing Chang for publicly humiliating his employees.
Chang's anger issues were not unique in the culinary world, but they highlighted the intense pressure and perfectionism that often characterize professional kitchens. Chefs put enormous effort into creating dishes that are ultimately temporary, leading to a precarious balance between taking their work seriously and maintaining perspective. When staff members didn't seem to care as much as Chang did, he interpreted it as a challenge to his entire worldview, leading to explosive reactions.
Expanding the Momofuku Empire
With the success of Momofuku Noodle Bar, it was natural for Chang to consider opening another location. However, he had a different concept in mind: an "Asian Chipotle." This idea led to the opening of Ssäm Bar. The name comes from the Korean word for "wrap," and the original concept allowed customers to choose a wrap (like bibb lettuce, flour pancakes, or toasted nori) and fill it with various options such as Berkshire pork, red kimchi puree, or whipped tofu.
Unfortunately, this initial concept didn't resonate with the public. Moreover, the talented chefs Chang had recruited based on Momofuku's success were bored with the simple task of scooping meats onto wraps. In response, Chang overhauled the concept, transforming Ssäm Bar into a more refined version of Momofuku Noodle Bar. Their signature dish became a decadent take on Korean bo ssäm, featuring a whole pork shoulder served with lettuce, rice, kimchi, sauces, and fresh oysters.
The revamped Ssäm Bar was a hit, eventually earning two James Beard Award nominations. Chang himself won the Best New Chef award, cementing his status as a rising star in the culinary world.
As Ssäm Bar's popularity grew, so did Chang's emotional instability. He swung between overconfidence and crippling insecurity, using stress as a motivator for creativity. One of his unconventional methods was to push his staff to develop new dishes in the hour before the restaurant opened, believing that tight deadlines forced decisive action.
Chang's philosophy of "undersell and overdeliver" shaped the aesthetic of his restaurants. Each Momofuku establishment was intentionally unfancy, with loud music, backless stools, and minimal decor. The idea was to let the food speak for itself.
The next addition to the Momofuku family was Ko, a no-frills tasting menu restaurant. Chang's perfectionism and fear of failure drove him to push himself and his team to the limit. The result was another success: reservations at Momofuku Ko were nearly impossible to get, and it won Best New Restaurant at the James Beard Awards.
Personal Struggles Amid Professional Success
As Chang's professional star rose, his personal life began to unravel. At 35, he found himself at the helm of an empire, with Momofuku Ssäm Bar named the 31st best restaurant in the world. However, staff members were leaving in increasing numbers, and Chang's mental health was deteriorating. He viewed each departure as a personal betrayal, fueling his depression, paranoia, and anger.
In an attempt to escape these pressures, Chang left New York to open the first Momofuku restaurant outside of Manhattan – Momofuku Seiōbo in Sydney, Australia. The location was unconventional: a 20-year-old hotel-casino undergoing revitalization. Chang chose an out-of-the-way spot within the complex, far from the gaming floor, embracing the challenge of creating something unexpected in an unlikely place. Despite the odd location, Seiōbo was another success for Chang.
However, Chang's escape to Sydney coincided with a series of personal tragedies back home. His mother developed a brain tumor, his father was diagnosed with liver cancer, and two of his friends died – one from an overdose and another in childbirth. Unable to cope with these events, Chang rarely returned to the States, instead isolating himself in Sydney and indulging in self-destructive behaviors.
His drinking escalated, leading to embarrassing incidents like waking up in another restaurant's janitor's closet. His anger issues worsened, culminating in a frightening incident where he threatened a maintenance worker with a knife during a blackout rage. This event nearly resulted in his deportation from Australia.
Amidst this turmoil, there was one bright spot: Chang took a promising 17-year-old American cook under his wing, becoming his mentor. The young chef was talented, bright, and deeply committed to the business. Chang had high hopes for him, envisioning him eventually taking over the kitchen at Momofuku Noodle Bar.
However, this mentorship ended in tragedy. After receiving complaints about the young chef from the team, Chang reprimanded him over the phone and planned to have a more in-depth conversation upon his return to New York. But before that could happen, the police found the young chef dead in his apartment from an accidental overdose.
This loss hit Chang hard. He felt responsible, believing that he and the Momofuku team had failed the young chef. The tragedy forced Chang to confront the destructive patterns in his life and the toxic culture he had fostered in his restaurants.
Turning Point and Personal Growth
The death of his young mentee marked a turning point for Chang. His therapy sessions with Dr. Eliot, which had previously been a place to vent his anxieties, now became crucial to his survival and growth. Chang began the difficult work of dismantling the toxic parts of his belief system.
Dr. Eliot helped Chang understand that blaming himself for his mentee's death was an egotistical perspective. It implied that if Chang had the power to cause the death, he also had the power to prevent it. In reality, the young chef's life was much more complex than just his relationship with Chang.
This realization prompted Chang to make significant changes in his life. He stopped drinking, which gave him the mental clarity to finally confront his depression and anger issues. Through therapy, Chang began to unpack the shame he had felt about his Korean heritage since childhood. He recognized that his desire to escape his identity had fueled both his substance abuse and the creation of Momofuku – the restaurant empire had been another way for him to carve out a new identity for himself.
It was during this period of intensive therapy that Dr. Eliot diagnosed Chang with bipolar disorder and affective dysregulation. This diagnosis helped explain Chang's extreme mood swings and his tendency to interpret minor mistakes by employees as deliberate sabotage. His rage blackouts were likened to temporary states of psychosis where he couldn't distinguish friend from foe.
In addition to therapy, Chang hired an executive coach, Marshall Goldsmith, to help him become a better leader. Goldsmith's approach was holistic and personal, going beyond mere leadership skills to address Chang's overall behavior and mindset.
As part of this process, Goldsmith gathered feedback from everyone close to Chang at Momofuku – both positive and negative. The positive feedback surprised Chang, making him realize he might have been too hard on himself. However, the criticism was eye-opening. Goldsmith expressed shock that so many people had remained loyal to Chang despite finding him difficult to work with.
This feedback helped Chang understand that his true job was not cooking, crunching numbers, or commanding people. Instead, Goldsmith taught him that leadership was about "eating shit" – listening, acknowledging mistakes, having uncomfortable discussions, and putting others first.
One of the most significant revelations for Chang was recognizing his narcissistic belief that his staff was there purely to serve him. He had always taken it personally when employees left the company, interpreting it as them leaving him. Goldsmith helped Chang see how this mindset was harmful and encouraged him to focus on being a better leader and mentor.
A New Chapter: Questioning Cultural Truths
As Chang worked on his personal growth, he also entered a new phase in his professional life. This period was characterized by a desire to question cultural truths and challenge societal norms, particularly around food and identity.
One night, while experiencing the mania side of his bipolar disorder, Chang had an epiphany while eating at Chick-fil-A. Despite his disagreement with the company's stance on same-sex marriage, he couldn't deny the quality of their chicken sandwiches. This sparked an idea: he would create his own fried chicken sandwich chain, but with a twist. Instead of spreading intolerance, he would use it as a platform to confront the public with their racism toward Asian Americans.
This idea led to the creation of Fuku, a name that was both a play on "Momofuku" and a subtle "fuck you" to anyone who mocked or took Asian culture for granted. The restaurant's decor included posters of offensive, stereotypical Asian villains from American pop culture, such as Oddjob from Goldfinger and Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill. Even the packaging featured the misspelled word "Dericious!" – a deliberate choice to make white customers uncomfortable and recognize their role in perpetuating cultural stereotypes.
While the cultural commentary of Fuku largely went over the public's heads, the chain was successful. More importantly, it solidified Chang's commitment to using his platform to challenge preconceived notions about American identity and culture.
This mission continued with his next project, Nishi. The restaurant, whose name means "west" in Japanese, was a high-end Italian-Korean fusion concept. One of its signature dishes was a riff on cacio e pepe, made with chickpea hozon, a fermented paste with notes reminiscent of parmesan. Through Nishi, Chang posed a provocative question: Why was Italian cuisine considered valuable and priced accordingly, while Asian food was expected to be cheap?
Finally, Chang began to fully embrace his Korean heritage with two new restaurants: Majordōmo in Los Angeles and Kāwi in New York. For years, there had been an unspoken tension in the fact that all of Chang's restaurants had Japanese names despite his Korean-American background. He had long felt a need to "protect" Korean traditions, as Korean culture is generally more wary of outside interpretation than Japanese culture. However, with these new ventures, Chang became more comfortable prominently incorporating Korean cuisine into his menus.
Embracing the Sisyphean Task
Throughout his journey, Chang has found inspiration in the myth of Sisyphus, the figure from Greek mythology condemned by the gods to eternally push a boulder up a hill. Rather than viewing this tale as one of futile punishment, Chang sees it as a story of perseverance and purpose.
Living with bipolar disorder presented Chang with a choice: he could give up and succumb to his darker impulses, allowing fear to dictate his life, or he could adopt a Sisyphean approach. He could accept his circumstances not as a punishment, but as a challenge to be met each day with renewed purpose and determination.
Chang chose the latter path. He decided to keep pushing forward, approaching each day as a new opportunity to create, innovate, and improve. This mindset has allowed him to transform his struggles into strengths, using his unique perspective to challenge culinary norms and push the boundaries of what American cuisine can be.
Conclusion
David Chang's memoir "Eat a Peach" is more than just the story of a successful chef. It's a raw, honest account of one man's struggle with mental illness, cultural identity, and the pressures of success in the cutthroat world of fine dining. Through Chang's experiences, readers gain insight into the evolution of American cuisine, the challenges of building a restaurant empire, and the personal cost of relentless perfectionism.
Chang's journey from a confused, angry young man to a thoughtful, innovative chef and restaurateur is marked by both triumphs and setbacks. His willingness to confront his own demons and question societal norms has not only shaped his personal growth but has also influenced the broader culinary landscape.
The book serves as a reminder that success often comes at a price, and that the path to self-discovery and fulfillment is rarely straightforward. Chang's story encourages readers to embrace their unique perspectives, confront their fears, and persistently push forward, even when the task seems Sisyphean.
Ultimately, "Eat a Peach" is a testament to the power of perseverance, creativity, and self-reflection. It challenges us to think differently about food, culture, and personal growth. Whether you're a food enthusiast, an aspiring chef, or simply someone interested in a compelling life story, Chang's memoir offers valuable insights and food for thought.
As Chang continues to evolve both personally and professionally, his impact on the culinary world remains significant. His willingness to question established norms, embrace his cultural heritage, and use food as a medium for social commentary ensures that his influence extends far beyond the kitchen. David Chang's story, like the dishes he creates, is complex, sometimes messy, but ultimately satisfying – a reminder that in both cooking and life, it's often the unexpected combinations that yield the most rewarding results.