“Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.”
T.S. Eliot “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
World-renowned chef David Chang—best known for founding Momofuku Noodle Bar in New York—released his memoir titled Eat a Peach in 2020, detailing his life thus far and the origin story of his multitude of successes in the culinary world. This memoir, co-written by food writer Gabe Ulla, is deeply personal, with Chang exploring the dark, unappetizing parts of his life story in conjunction with his other food endeavors, such as restaurants Ssäm and Ko, giving the reader a rare, up-close look at the ugliness, goodness, and overall chaos that the restaurant business has to offer.
What makes Chang’s memoir stand out, however, is not so much the structure or the content itself, but his ability to connect to the audience in authentic, tangible ways that most celebrity memoirs seem to lack. Chang’s self-awareness, mistakes, transparency, and humanness appear seen in every chapter of this memoir. He admits to being wrong, misguided, and sometimes brutish and stupid, all traits that Chang does not shy away from taking responsibility for. He expresses an understanding of what it is to truly hit rock bottom: to push the boulder up the hill again and again, even when it repeatedly chases you back down to where you started.
Eat a Peach couldn’t be more true David Chang if it tried. As an avid fan of his many endeavors in the culinary world, I consider myself well versed on how Chang presents his narratives and the voice he employs to explore them. Even with Chang’s TV shows—Ugly Delicious on Netflix and The Next Thing You Eat on Hulu — his personality, humor, and knowledge breaks through whatever script he’s reading from. The title Eat a Peach comes from T.S. Eliot’s poem “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”, which tells of the plight of an emotionally-stunted and narcissistic man, but also references a failed food magazine started by Chang titled “Lucky Peach” that he details further in his story, adding multiple layers of meaning and ironicism to the title. Because of Eat a Peach’s dedication to being unflinching, unfettered, and uncomfortable, the vulnerability happening throughout the book is moving and personal, demonstrating that Chang’s uncharted territory in the culinary industry is just himself.
The experiences in this book are raw and emotional. Chang details his battles with depression, bipolar disorder, addiction, public criticism, and self-improvement, but never claims complete healing and a know-it-all outlook. He is very clear throughout this book that his battles are constant; there is no conclusion to the bad stuff. That alone is, in my opinion, missing from most memoirs: the realism in life never feeling concluded, neat, or resolved. Even after the success of Momofuku, David Chang never escapes failure, whether in the industry or in his personal life. He’s not afraid to talk about being in and out of therapy, failed business ventures, medication, ethnicity and race, love, loss, or fatherhood.
Despite having Gabe Ulla as a co-writer, Chang refuses to relinquish his true voice. In true David Chang fashion, there is unapologetic cussing, a plethora of humor and even copies of emails he sent out during the events he highlights throughout the chapters. At times, it almost feels like you, as a reader, are too close to the action, like you’re being invasive in someone’s past and poking around for answers. The uncomfortability is a huge attribute to why Chang’s book does so well at delivering its messages. It’s common knowledge that David Chang couldn’t —and wouldn’t— want to include every bad moment and every good moment from his life, but having the lowest lows contrasting the highs shows that life, healing, and recovery are not linear.
Eat a Peach sets a high bar for memoirs to come, demonstrating the power in vulnerability and honesty not just with readers, but the vulnerability and honesty the author has with himself. David Chang does not let success or money obscure the paths behind and in front of him, instead realizing that the two are vital in getting his story right. Eat a Peach is a fun, deep, and touching glance into the culinary world and the kind of people who survive in it —and why.
