The Seattle chef discusses online feedback, appropriation, and his goals as a noted food writer
Photo courtesy of J. Kenji López-Alt
On any given day, J. Kenji López-Alt, a prominent food writer and chef living in Seattle, might read hundreds of comments about what he cooked for dinner. With 1.47 million YouTube subscribers, he is constantly flooded with feedback.
His personal following has ballooned since he published three bestselling books: The Food Lab: Better Home Cooking Through Science, The Wok: Recipes and Techniques, and the children’s book, Every Night is Pizza Night. He’s also a New York Times food columnist.
Currently, he’s juggling projects for his YouTube channel, working on a new cookbook aimed at everyday cooking, writing another children’s book, and launching a podcast with Deb Perlman of Smitten Kitchen.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Q: How has it been to gain such a big following? Do you read the comments?
A: I read every comment, especially on my videos. Years ago, when I was managing Serious Eats, it was well-known for having a positive community. Our policy was that you can say what you want, but don’t be a jerk. We never thought of it as a free speech issue because it was a private platform where we were trying to foster a certain kind of discussion.
In my comments, I delete people if they’re being rude because there’s no room for that. I want people to come to my social platforms and feel comfortable, not like they have to tread carefully. So, I moderate comments heavily to make sure my platforms maintain that atmosphere.
Q: Oftentimes, a sort of cult can form around food personalities. Is that something you’ve observed and are trying to avoid?
A: I’ve definitely observed it. Part of the idea behind my children’s book, Every Night is Pizza Night, was inspired by the way I saw a lot of my audience using my first book or my earlier columns.
I would see someone post a picture of a dish they’d made and felt happy about. Then someone would comment, “Oh, did you roast that steak before you sliced it? Kenji said…” and they’d link to an article I wrote. I saw how something I did could be weaponized.
In a lot of my earlier recipes, I’d use the word “best.” But what I really meant was to discuss every factor that can affect the outcome of a recipe and offer one version of the best, giving readers the information needed to make their own best version.
So the message in Every Night is Pizza Night is that “best” is contextual, depending on who you are, where you are, or what mood you’re in.
Q: Oftentimes, a sort of cult can form around food personalities. Is that something you’ve observed and are trying to avoid?
A: I’ve definitely observed it. Part of the idea behind my children’s book, Every Night is Pizza Night, was inspired by the way I saw a lot of my audience using my first book or my earlier columns.
I would see someone post a picture of a dish they’d made and felt happy about. Then, someone would comment, “Oh, did you roast that steak before you sliced it? Kenji said…” and they’d link to an article I wrote. I saw how something I did could be weaponized.
In a lot of my earlier recipes, I’d use the word “best.” But, what I really meant was to discuss every factor that can affect the outcome of a recipe and offer one version of the best, giving readers the information needed to make their own best version.
So the message in Every Night is Pizza Night is that “best” is contextual, depending on who you are, where you are, or what mood you’re in.
Q: I’ve heard that you didn’t cook much growing up. How do you feel your heritage and background have influenced your approach to food?
A: A lot of the comfort food we cook at home is similar to what I had growing up, which is a mix of American and Japanese food, combined with what my wife had in Colombia.
As a kid, I lived in the same apartment building as my grandparents and uncle. My grandmother didn’t speak English and cooked mostly only Japanese. So we definitely ate a ton of Japanese food growing up, and that certainly influenced the way I cook at home. But I don’t know if I write Japanese recipes any more than I do other kinds of recipes.
My parents have had a lot of influence on my career, but I don’t think it boils down to a particular ethnicity or country. My dad grew up in rural Western Pennsylvania and left by going to college. He’s also a workaholic. For him, it’s all science, all the time. And then my mom wanted us to be very successful academically, as many first-generation immigrants do.
When I went to college, I realized I don’t have to do biology. I was like, “Oh, I have this freedom,” and then after working as a cook, I realized I could do what I wanted. It was a bit of a rebellious choice.
Q: Do you think about how you might be a role model for other children of immigrants, or anyone who wants to go off the beaten path?
A: I don’t know. When I was growing up, I went to Japanese school every Saturday, and I was the only kid who wasn’t full-Japanese, so I got picked on. I had a bad experience. It made me feel like I’m not exactly Asian American, and I always felt that I’m not really Asian. As I’ve gotten older, that feeling has changed. I certainly feel Asian now.
I’ve never really thought about how Asian people might think about my experience and see me as a role model.
Q: In a way, just being an Asian cook who doesn’t just make Asian food pushes back on stereotypes in itself, right?
A: Yeah, it’s one of those things where if you’re watching a competition cooking show, there’s always the challenge where it’s like, “You have to cook your food.” What the judges are really saying is, “Cook the food of your ancestral people.” It’s difficult, especially in the world of cuisine, for people to find connections to food outside of ethnic ones to be as relevant as those connections.
I’m guessing it’s the same in many of the arts. It’s what people think of when they think of a connection, they think of your DNA instead of your experience.
Q: How does one distinguish between cultural appreciation and cultural appropriation?
A: I think a lot of it comes down to listening and being open to criticism. You have to be open to hearing the voices of the people from the culture you think you’re appreciating.
If you want to make food or art that takes inspiration from another culture, recognize that you’re first and foremost a visitor to that culture, the same as being a visitor in someone’s home. You want to be respectful and sure of having their permission to do things before doing them.
Beyond that, there’s the issue of whether you’re benefiting professionally or financially by borrowing from another culture. And in those cases, I don’t know that there’s a hard line. There are clearly wrong things, like when a non-Asian person opens a pho place and advertises it as “clean” or “healthy.”
Q: How do you view the fact that chefs are often mixing and matching traditions?
A: I think that’s great, but there should be some professional courtesy. Like, when you get an idea, acknowledge where it came from. Put effort into finding out whether the way you’re applying the idea is appropriating. This could include interviewing people and making sure you’re getting it right.
I was conscious of this when I was writing The Wok. The wok is not a Japanese tool, even if it’s widely adopted in Japan. And I’m not Chinese, so why should I be writing a book about this tool? Then again, I bought a wok when I was 19, and I’ve cooked in it for more than 20 years. So I can talk about it through the lens of my experience. I found ways to connect it back to my own story, and present it through that lens. At the same time, with that book, I did much more interviewing and research outside the kitchen than I did for The Food Lab. I wanted to make sure that when I wrote about dishes I’d mainly experienced through restaurants and travel, I was understanding them properly and being respectful.
Q: Is there any particular dish that you’re enjoying a lot recently?
A: Mapo tofu is my daughter’s favorite dish. It’s a Chinese dish, but it came to Japan in the 1970s, and my mom made it. It was my favorite dish growing up. It’s a 10-minute recipe.
And then my wife grew up in Colombia. So we frequently make a dish called ajiaco, which is a chicken and potato soup.
