Michelle Zauner on Her New Memoir, and the Joy of Korean Cooking

Michelle Zauner—the musician who performs as Japanese Breakfast, now also a published author—tells me she is most excited and nervous to hear what other Koreans will think of her memoir, Crying in H Mart. “I think it’s because there's this instant camaraderie with other Korean artists, but [they’re going to] be the most judgmental, you know what I mean?” she says. “I know when I see something romanticized in a way that I don't like, it bothers me.”

Zauner has nothing to worry about. Crying in H Mart is a distinctly Korean-American story that plunges into the complexities and nuances of a young woman straddling two cultures. As a Korean-American myself, I related to Zauner’s constant self-examination of her identity, including the early-life shame she felt for being Asian in a predominantly white neighborhood. (Zauner is mixed-race, born in Seoul and raised in Eugene, Oregon, to a Korean mother and a white father.)

The book, which is an extension of Zauner’s 2018 essay that appeared in The New Yorker, honors the life and memory of her late cancer-stricken mother, with whom Zauner had a complicated relationship during her younger years. In the aftermath of her mom’s passing, Zauner recounts working through her immense grief by learning to cook the Korean dishes that her mother had loved and shared when she was alive. (Zauner also surrenders to grief in her two Japanese Breakfast albums, 2016’s Psychopomp and 2017’s Soft Sounds from Another Planet. Her forthcoming album, Jubilee, out June 2021, is decidedly about joy.) As an only child with a distant father and her Korean family living overseas, Zauner captures what it’s been like to mourn, in many ways, alone. Making motherland food not only helps Zauner cope but also deepens the connection to her Korean heritage with every homemade meal.

There are instances where Crying in H Mart will likely leave you simultaneously weepy and hungry—a strangely cathartic sensation if you just roll with it. That said, I’m a bit embarrassed to be a Korean person who doesn’t know how to cook Korean food (yet), so I spoke to Zauner about what to buy, who to follow, and how anyone can get comfortable in the Korean kitchen.

How difficult was writing this memoir about your mother’s passing? I can't imagine how much it must have taken out of you.

I had some experience because I wrote the last two Japanese Breakfast records largely about grief. I had this natural desire to kind of expose myself to what I endured. Part of it was that there was this sense of righteousness of needing people to know what I went through and what happened. I was lucky in some ways that I had the experience of being rewarded for my vulnerability before, so I felt empowered a bit in doing so.

I wanted to excavate my memories of my mom as an exercise of remembering our relationship before she got sick—so much of my memory of her was tainted by this illness. It felt really unfair to her. And I know it would have been very devastating for her to feel that so much of my memory was taken up by this negative space when it was, in retrospect, such a small part of our relationship. [I wanted to] remember what was really great about our relationship, what was really great about her character before this happened. It was a real joy to uncover those memories that were buried by this trauma I'd experienced. That was definitely important. There was also definitely a lot of crying. It was very, very hard at points for sure.

You write about becoming friends with Korean chef/YouTuber Maangchi (also the author of a few cookbooks). How did that come about?

I met Maangchi when I first moved to New York in 2016. I was working at an advertising company and always struggled to be an artist. So I started working on creative projects and the first essay I wrote was called “Love, Loss, and Kimchi,” which was largely about cooking along with Maangchi’s videos. I was obsessed with Maangchi. She was this digital guardian angel for me. I felt very close to her.

Maangchi and Hooni Kim, who runs Hanjan and Danji [two Korean restaurants], were doing a talk in New York so I bought tickets. I printed out my essay and gave Maangchi a copy. I was so starstruck but I think she's used to it, in a very humble and generous way. She's touched so many peoples’ lives, whether it’s people like me, or Korean adoptees who are getting in touch with their culture, or maybe people who married a Korean person and want to connect with them.

A month or so went by, and I later found out that my essay won Glamour's essay contest of the year. And while I was on tour, Maangchi called my phone [which was printed on the essay which was used to submit to various publications]. She was like, “Hello, Michelle. I just read your essay and I feel like your mom or something. I really appreciate it and I’m touched by it." After that we kind of kept in touch, we followed each other on social media, stuff like that.

Then last year I hosted a Munchies series and one episode was on Korean food. I was like, “I'm just going to text Maangchi and see if she would be open to being on the show." She was down and we happened to shoot the episode the day before my 30th birthday. [Afterwards] she was like, “Come over for your birthday." She invited me to her apartment and made me dinner and got me a cake. I feel like people say never meet your idols but she’s been such a wonderful, generous addition to my life. I'm very grateful to her.

What other Korean chefs, cookbooks, or YouTubers do you love?

Sohui Kim, who runs [Brooklyn restaurant] Insa has this great cookbook called Korean Home Cooking that I really like. Robin Ha’s Cook Korean! comic book is really fun. I can't wait to get a copy of Hooni Kim's book, My Korea.

I’m also a glutton for watching mukbang [on YouTube]. Mukbang is this Korean phenomenon where people film themselves eating on camera and it's kind of blended into the ASMR world. It’s an eating show and you can pay to watch these people eat on camera. I think a lot of [its popularity] is because Korean people don't like eating alone—[it’s the] comfort of getting to eat with someone online. There are some celebrity mukbang people, like Dorothy who is amazing. She can eat really, really spicy food. Some people find the sounds of eating disgusting, but I really enjoy it. I watch a lot of those videos to inspire me to figure out what I want to eat for the day. A lot of them have exposed me to popular Korean food trends that I didn't know about, like raw shrimp or Samyang spicy fire noodles.

Many Korean dishes represent or symbolize something specific from the country’s history. I loved how you incorporated a lot of those references in your memoir.

When you're looking back at your ancestral history or the cultural context of your identity, it’s natural to search for that in the food. I read some reference books about Korean history and there was one that was very informative for me called Korean Cuisine. One thing that was pretty eye-opening to me was that red pepper came from the New World in the 15th or 16th century. So these things that we think of as inherently Korean actually have an even longer history than that. Or how back in the day the regional water had so much to do with how things are flavored, or how using local ingredients was born out of necessity.

H Mart is the hero market in the book but I'm wondering if you have other sources for getting ingredients when you’re not near a Korean grocery?

Maangchi has a really good reference list on her website where many of her readers submit different Asian groceries in their hometown. For me growing up it was Sunrise Asian Food Market, which is written about in the book and that's still in Eugene, Oregon. I'm really lucky that I live in New York now, but sometimes when I’m on tour in smaller towns in the middle of America it's hard to find Korean comfort food.

I don't think this made it into the book but one story that really struck me was when my mom lived in Germany. She was so miserable because she couldn't find any Korean food or groceries, so she used to soak jalapeno peppers in hot water to replicate the taste of kimchi stew. It really made me relate to her as I’ve gotten older because I'm on tour a lot. I also remembered when I was younger in Korean school, there was this woman who made hotteok from Pillsbury Crescent Roll dough.

I really enjoy [hearing about] these kinds of American substitutions out of necessity. [The reason] why I started even making my own kimchi was because I couldn't find a specific type of kimchi that I liked at H Mart and I was really motivated to make it myself. Now I feel like you can make a lot of Korean food yourself and order the ingredients online. So many of the staples are the same.

That leads right into my next question: What are the Korean ingredients that are always stocked in your kitchen?

Sesame oil is number one, it's like Korean butter. Then the three main jangs—gochujang, doenjang, and ganjang. Gochugaru, red pepper flakes, is a must. Sesame seeds. And then I feel you need tofu, scallions, onions, and garlic. Kimchi, obviously. Kimchi is a no-brainer. Those are the main staples and you can make so many different dishes just from having those on stock. I pretty much always have those in my kitchen.

For people who are getting introduced to cooking Korean food, what do you think are the easiest dishes to make at home?

The most Korean thing you can eat that's so easy is Shin Ramyun with an egg cracked into it and kimchi on the side. I feel like every Korean person eats that at nighttime or for a snack. The next easiest dish to make is kimchi bokkeumbap—even if you combine rice and kimchi, it would still taste really good. After that is kimchi jjigae, which I always thought would be too funky for most people but every non-Korean friend that I've made it for has somehow become obsessed with it. It’s a pretty easy dish to figure your way around. A lot of it is just discovering how delicious kimchi is when you cook with it.

And what are the kitchenware you can’t live without?

I love kitchenware. I'm very frugal and I don't buy a lot of things, but I'm frivolous when it comes to buying groceries and kitchenware. My favorites, essential for me, which I bought at H Mart, are these two giant bowls and a gigantic bright green plastic strainer for making kimchi. I also bought my first onggi, which I talk about in the book. I have a couple dolsot [stone bowls for bibimbap] and ttukbaegi, which are earthenware pots for stews. Essential. So great. A butane burner camp stove, huge for Koreans everywhere. The last time I was in Korea, I ate at this place where they had the grill in the middle and an outer ring where you could melt mozzarella cheese. I had to buy one of those rings for my butane burner. And I have a gold-colored pot for ramen that heats up water really fast.

There’s a part in your book when you're singing sad karaoke songs with a stranger you just met. What are some of your other go-to karaoke songs?

I love “It's All Coming Back To Me Now,” which Meat Loaf wrote that Celine Dion also sang—it’s so long and dramatic. I love “Run Away With Me” by Carly Rae Jepsen. I used to do a lot of Everclear songs. This is a downer but “Hands Down” by Dashboard Confessional is a big one. Lots of emo pop punk songs of the 2000s. If karaoke comes back anytime this year I would love to do a My Chemical Romance karaoke.

What’s next for you, as a musician and writer? You have this memoir, and also an album coming out soon.

I've worked on three really big projects for the last four years and I'm finally at a point where I’m entering a new chapter after this. These are ideas I was obsessed with and wanted to pursue for so long, and now I feel like a new slate. I hope that I can just enjoy this feeling for a little bit. I would love to write another book, something that's happening more in real time, about learning the Korean language. There's always going to be a part of me that feels very disconnected from Korean culture if I don't take the time to learn, or if I don't create a space in which I can learn the language. So I'd love to write that, and make another record. I can't wait to be able to play a show or to be able to go on tour again. But mostly I would like to see what happens and pursue whatever projects spark this necessary exploration in me. I'm just trying to be open to whatever that ends up being.