Los Angeles: A patchwork megalopolis defined by its unlikely cultural collisions; the city that raised and shaped Roy Choi, the boundary-breaking chef who decided to leave behind fine dining to feed the city he loved—and, with the creation of the Korean taco, reinvented street food along the way.
Abounding with both the food and the stories that gave rise to Choi's inspired cooking, L.A. Son takes us through the neighborhoods and streets most tourists never see, from the hidden casinos where gamblers slurp fragrant bowls of pho to Downtown's Jewelry District, where a ten-year-old Choi wolfed down Jewish deli classics between diamond deliveries; from the kitchen of his parents' Korean restaurant and his mother's pungent kimchi to the boulevards of East L.A. and the best taquerias in the country, to, at last, the curbside view from one of his emblematic Kogi taco trucks, where people from all walks of life line up for a revolutionary meal.
Filled with over 85 inspired recipes that meld the overlapping traditions and flavors of L.A.—including Korean fried chicken, tempura potato pancakes, homemade chorizo, and Kimchi and Pork Belly Stuffed Pupusas—L.A. Son embodies the sense of invention, resourcefulness, and hybrid attitude of the city from which it takes its name, as it tells the transporting, unlikely story of how a Korean American kid went from lowriding in the streets of L.A. to becoming an acclaimed chef.
Memoir/cookbook that I wished was fleshed out into two fuller, denser, and detailed books: one about Choi's life and the other, a cookbook dedicated to his fusion cuisine. I'm a huge fan of the Kogi Truck and couldn't wait to read about his life before, during, and after Kogi launched the food truck craze. I was also looking forward to recipes from the man himself and found myself craving those Korean BBQ tacos that he made so famous over the years. What I got from L.A. Son was a bit of his life's story and some recipes, but not nearly enough of either.
(Spoiler Alert)
I loved reading about Roy's life, but there seemed to be so much that was left out, glossed over, or just bypassed altogether. He (and his co-authors) present the story of a good-but-lost-kid-gone-bad-then-reborn in an entertaining style, but too many questions are left unanswered.
For example, there are numerous early references to his parents' growing alcoholism and the effect it had on his life, but it's never followed up or dealt with in a satisfying manner. I understand that these types of details might not jibe with the image he's trying to present, but I thought it would've made his story that much more fulfilling. Perhaps he was respecting his family's privacy? I understand that, but then I'd rather not read about these details in the first place. Like Chekov said, if there's a gun in the first chapter, then it better go off by the second or third chapter.
His relationship with his wife and the birth of his child seem like footnotes in the book. I'm sure it's not the case in real life, but these could've been handled much better than they were in the text. The stories about how food has influenced every part of his life are great and it was unfortunate that the authors decided to end the book right as Roy opens the Kogi Truck. There's nothing here about the phenomenal success he enjoyed or the ensuing food truck revolution in L.A. that spread throughout the country. It's a shame that we don't get anything more substantial from such an important figure of the new generation of cooking elite.
Still, I would recommend this to anyone who enjoys chef memoirs. For a book I just rated 3.5 stars, I enjoyed it immensely. It's a shame it's not a classic, but it's worth reading.
5 Amazing Netflix Show With Roy Choi/Jon Favreau Stars * * * * * Review Of Roy Choi's The Chef Show Yes, I am doing it again, I just can't help myself. I am sure there are those of you who already know about this cooking show on Netflix, The Chef Show. Somehow, I just discovered it and I am thrilled, happy, and blown away at how entertaining and informative it is all at the same time.
The trouble with some cooking shows is that you never feel as if you could do something like they are doing...or maybe that's just me. But with this show, I love the way Roy and Jon and the visiting chefs interact and share their takes on life, how they cook, and the cooking of their specialties.
Roy and Jon met while doing the 2014 movie Chef. It can be seen in any number of ways, free at IMBTV. They bonded and in 2019 they did this show together. They invite chefs we may know of and together they recreate these dishes with all of them contributing. It is chatty and charming.
Because I have come late to the party, there are a bunch of 30minute episodes to make you as happy as me. Enjoy.
Can't help but compare to Eddie Huang's Fresh off the Boat since they have similar stories growing up rich, messing up and finding salvation in food. Both written in slang, which gets grating at times. Choi has more life experience with the 10+ years he has on Huang and he is a trained chef from "the Harvard of cooking schools". The cook book portion is also a nice concept but more likely filler. The book feels a little superficial. Huang does a better job delving deeper into his identity and why he did the things he did. Choi clearly has an addictive personality, which provides so much material, but doesn't do much with it.
I liked reading about Roy quite a bit. He's definitely had a colorful life and the way he keeps overcoming the bumps on his road is inspiring. Much of the history and events between the highs and lows are left untold, leaving the reader to fill in the details. However, you can't help but root for him, as he is charming and seems to be a good guy.
The recipes are beautifully photographed and some of them are likely worth a try. However, definitely read carefully, as you get the sense that just as no one proofread the final copy before publication (as we see by the many typos in multiple languages,) no one vetted the recipes completely, either. For example, the simple club sandwich. He emphasizes that "there is a science to a great club sandwich." Club sandwiches do not have cheese. I don't know why cheese was added and there is no explanation. Once the cheese is added, the sandwich ceases to be a club and is now a sub. So what science is he talking about?
Another example, the roasted mushrooms -- 1. Soak 8 ounces of mushrooms in a cup of olive oil. Yikes! I would not do that if I were you. Then as part of the ingredients, it lists more olive oil that is never mentioned in the steps. Hmmm....looks like someone messed up. No need to soak the mushrooms in a cup of olive oil and then discard the oil. For the record, that's a waste of good oil. Just sprinkle the oil over the mushrooms before you put the spices on. Done.
The recipes were chosen to fit the stories, not give you his culinary secrets that he saves for his restaurants. Understood...but definitely read through these recipes before you try.
If I could give half stars to a review, I would give this a 2.5.
Perhaps it is because "Fresh Off the Boat" was, well...fresh on my mind, and perhaps it's unfair to compare one Asian-American chef memoir to another Asian-American chef memoir, but Roy Choi's memoir left me with more questions than answers.
While Eddie Huang was able to layer insightful self-reflection with great food imagery and his own beginnings as a chef, Choi's in comparison was just really lacking. There were no deeper dives into race/identity/living in LA, we learn almost nothing (literally 3 pages on a Kindle) about Kogi or his life post-gambling problem. He spends a very long time writing about his downward spiral in gambling but we never see much of a redemption since the second half of the memoir is rushed from one event to another. He casually references that he gets married and a few chapters later, that he has a kid. Maybe they're not significant to his food-inspiration but talk about gliding over details!
The memoir--perhaps because the publisher/editor realized his story was lacking any depth--is sprinkled with recipes. Some of them are interesting, some of them are laughably unnecessary (roasting vegetables comes to mind...), but none of them are cohesive save for the fact that they tangentially relate to his life (but I mean...does it???).
Good read for any foodie. The book is a journey throughout Roy Choi’s journey highlighting the best parts of LA culture and the most toxic parts of the culinary industry. The beginning of the book makes it pretty difficult to find any positives about Choi but as the book ends Choi definitely redeems himself. Also some great recipes at the end of each chapter!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The subtitle of this book is "My Life, My City, My Food," but the concept of the Korean taco sums up what it has to say.
This is THE book of contemporary America, and it shows that the story of America is exactly what we all thought.
Choi's life is the American story of hard work, mess ups, opportunities, friends, family, and food. Choi, who writes with Nguyen and Phan (note these names), shows us all that what we read about in American history is still happenin': people come here, they look and listen, they try, they succeed, they fail, and it's all interesting and good. Sometimes the American Dream turns nightmarish, but you always have your wit and your hard work to rely on. You're entitled to nothing but what you can make of yourself.
The book is an ode to LA, too, a mosaic of cultures more diverse than anyone could imagine. (My own vision of L.A. is that of endless suburbs. Traveling with Choi, I realize that I am 'wayyy off base, and interestingly, his first real spiral is when he finds himself living in the O.C.).
And then there's the food. Street food. Hole in the wall food. Mother's food. Kimchi. Stew. Food you buy when you're rollin' with your friends. Food you buy when you have lots of money. Food you cook when you've graduated from the Culinary Institute of America. Food you fix at a resort hotel. Food you present in the best restaurant in Japan. Korean tacos.
After reading through this book in its entirety I was really surprised at the lack of pages covering the venues that Roy Choi is best known for (Kogi trucks, A-Frame, Chego!, etc). Only after going through 300 pages that chronicles Choi's upbringing in the rich tapestry of multicultural LA does he finally devote air-time to the origin story of his eventual food truck empire all for a whooping 3(!) pages. Sequel incoming?
Still, as surprised as I was by the content focus of this book all is forgiven because the framework of his auto-biography was a fun and personable read that captures everything from the Asian-immigrant experience to a coming of age story on the mean streets of LA to the "making" of a chef and everything else in between. While approximately 20% of the pages are devoted to recipes that punctuate the end of each chapter these serve more as window dressing to complement the myriad food references. The visual construction of the book gets props for the liberal inclusion of color photography and varied layouts. Nice memoir all around.
There’s a certain model of celebrity chef as “anti-hero.” Think of early Anthony Bourdain. Roy Choi definitely fits that mold. So does Eddie Huang, who is the chef whose memoir the TV show “Fresh off the Boat” was loosely based on. Choi is kind of like the west coast doppelganger to New York’s Eddie Huang. All three of these chefs had troubled backgrounds, a history with drugs, and in the case of Choi he was involved with gangs, gambling, drinking and drug abuse, etc. At some point they all discover cooking. They are all a kind of “anti-Alton Brown.”
I appreciated the rawness depicted in this memoir. The book gave me a sense of Choi’s true character. I was less interested in the “cookbook” portions of the book, but that’s just me.
Cookbook-as-memoir is a tricky hybrid. Once in a while it's going to give you the worst of both worlds. Rarely is it going to yield the best. As a cookbook, this falls flat - there are a couple things I'll make, but very little that was new to me, and I can't imagine many readers finding more than a quarter of the recipes useful. From a memoir point of view, though, the recipe selections make perfect sense, and at times that's the strongest thing about the book. Unfortunately Roy Choi's voice is a textbook example of the bacon-tattoo swagger that's rewarded in the chef scene lately, and if you're over 22 you get tired of that pretty quick.
I LOVE these memoirs based on food!!! So many good ones have come out this year (with the exception of Kate Christensen's Blue Plate Special, which I hated). This is another great one, one that makes me wish I was friends with Roy Choi so that I could go over to his house for dinner. I don't know if my cooking skills or energy will ever be up to making the recipes in this book, but I would recommend this book just for the story. (I feel like the recipes are an awesome bonus!) The book's ending seems a little abrupt but I hope it's because Mr. Choi's story is far from being over.
Part memoir, part cookbook, and entirely absorbing to anyone like me who loves Los Angeles and food. We read about Roy Choi's adolescence as the rebellious son of hardworking Korean immigrant parents and his eventual realization that cooking could be the right career for him. From the Culinary Institute of America to an internship at Le Bernardin to hard work as a hotel chef to the Kogi Food Truck -- it's all here. Plus recipes. I love this book.
Choi is credited with reinventing the food truck movement and creating the Korean taco. This book is both cookbook and memoir of growing up, as the son of immigrants, and absorbing all of the culinary and cultural diversity offered by the city. Some of his food, language, and experiences are not for the faint of heart, but make for a satisfying meal . . . um, read.
Great book. Choi has a really interesting life story (gang banging crack smoking mutual fund selling degenerate gambler chef school Korean taco purveyor), and the recipes made me hungry. I'm not really into cookbooks, but this is exceptional. Only complaint is that it ends right when he starts selling tacos!
This memoir was not at all what I had expected. The voice is uneven--sometimes he sounds like the gangsta thug that he'd been, talking smack with his homies. Other times, he sounds like...his co-authors? Just the same, an incredible life lived with incredible luck and mouthwatering recipes.
Fascinating life story of Roy Choi, who started the upscale foodie food truck trend with Korean tacos in LA. I had no idea he was classically trained at Culinary Institute. Peppered with recipes throughout, I'll have to go back and search through them, when I read it the first time I saw them as props to where he was in that point of his life.
I found Roy's life story to be an interesting one and the recipes I've made from the book were really good. I would love a stand-alone recipe book so I could easily find the recipes in the future.
I enjoyed reading Roy Choi. I really liked the style of a memoir chapter that ends with a handful of recipes that are tied to that chapter. It was a lovely way to combine his story and his food.
Already planning on hitting up the international grocery store to pick up a few ingredients to start following his recipes.
But...I wanted to know more about the food truck! Korean-American Choi lived life a bit before finding his true calling--and even it still took a firing and inability to find jobs to really find what he enjoyed doing.
I knew a little bit about the food truck craze and know that he played a part in it. So I thought this would be a great book to pick up. Part autobiography of his growing up, the son of Korean immigrants in Southern California (LA) and part-cookbook, we see Roy as he grows up, drifts from job to job, falls into a gambling debts and addiction, becomes a chef and climbs the ladder, gets fired from an Asian fusion start-up type deal and drifts again until the food truck idea comes along.
I didn't realize this book had recipes, which was not my thing. I've seen complaints from people that these don't seem to be the recipes in his restaurants or his offerings, but I could not say since I've never had his food. His story was really interesting to read, to see the son of immigrant parents (who also become alcoholics along the way it seems) grow up in a predominantly white area of LA and try to find himself after.
But I was a little bored after a while. His childhood and early adulthood were interesting, but his gambling and cooking jobs were not.I also got bored with some of the language used...I get that's just part of his background, but calling a dish "Pho for Dem H**" because it rhymes isn't particularly appealing.
And it was disappointing to see the book ended on a very perfunctory note about the food truck. Well, what about it? On Wikipedia he is mentioned as one of the "founders" of the food truck movement, but there's very little about it in this book. It seems to be an end to the means. What does it mean to be part of this movement? What do his parents (who bailed him out of his gambling addiction, who put up the money for him to go to the Culinary Institute of America in New York) think? He doesn't really talk about his personal life too much but I wanted to get a little bit more in his head about what it was like being an Asian male in what is a predominantly white (and likely male) business. Marcus Samuelsson who wrote Yes, Chef (and who is an Ethiopian adopted by a Swedish couple) discusses this a bit, which I found insightful and interesting and I wish Choi had done that too.
Honestly I got a lot more information from his Wikipedia page (that he volunteers and teaches children he volunteers with how to cook) and from David Sax's The Tastemakers regarding the food truck movement.
I didn't quite get what I was looking for from this book, but I'm not sure if I feel into marketing hype OR I didn't do enough research.I waited a LONG time for this book at the library (my local library system only bought one copy!) but it wasn't worth it. Better than buying it, I guess.
Some people will be interested in the recipes. Others may be interested in his background. But it's not a pure cookbook and it's not a pure autobiography either. If you want this or are interested, I really recommend you browse it at the library or bookstore first before deciding if you really want it. it's picture heavy (although it's not step by step cooking pics) and it looks and feels like a cookbook (heavy cover and pages).
I read it for the recipes and was surprised by the story.
First, about the recipes. I think I want to own them. There are dozens I want to try, starting with kimchi and not ending wtih Gumbo, pounded pork schnitzel, and beef cheek tacos. Dunno about the cheek--I'll probably cheat on that. The kimchi is going to be weird enough--take a head of Napa cabbage and stuff between the leaves with fish sauce, shrimp, oysters, garlic, onion, and other stinky stuff; let it ferment at room temperature for a couple of days, then refrigerate for a few weeks. Maybe I'll see if I can buy a jar at the supermarket rather than risk poisoning myself. Plus I'm not sure if I can find kochukaru, ground Korean chili pepper. Maybe if I printed out the characters and went to an Asian grocery, comparing my printout to the labels, I could recognize some.
Second, the story. Mr. Choi's life is a classic story of, "How many times can a person go wrong and still turn out all right?" Growing up amid a cultural collision, he jumped on every time-wasting brain-draining bandwagon he encountered--drugs, fighting, drinking, gambling, and worst of all, banking! Yes, he spent a short eternity selling mutual funds.
(That previous paragraph isn't a spoiler--you know he gets to cooking in the end or this book would never have been written.)
You don't hear much about his personal life after the cooking starts, but I'll give him an okay on that one. He mentions this and apologizes and that's all right. We'll give him the privacy--he's told an awesome enough already.
This is a big, juicy taco of a book- a memoir/cookbook told in Choi's very readable style. Choi tells the story of growing up in an immigrant family, his days of finding trouble in and around Los Angeles, his life changing decision to attend the CIA (Culinary Institute of America), his turn as a corporate chef- all this before a little bit on how he became the king of the taco truck in L.A. There is not much about his recent ride to successful restaurateur and owner/chef of the wildly popular Kogi taco trucks, and that would be my only quibble with this book. What makes a chef? What makes a great taco? Sometimes you just have to experience it to find out. Is Choi the chef he is because cooking familiar Korean dishes was central to his family life as a kid? Was he just born loving food with this much enthusiasm? You have to dive in to find out, as Choi tells his story with tales that make the reader understand that for Choi, life seasons food and food seasons life. This cycle is life affirming for Choi and entertaining reading for the rest of us. Even the many recipes in the book have little vignettes to accompany them. Reading this book made me want to get to L.A. and track down a Kogi truck, now that I have an idea of what all the fuss is about.
If the reader is looking for the recipe of Roy Choi's famous Korean tacos, alas, that remains a secret. "L.A. Son" is more of a memoir of how Choi got to where he is today, sprinkled with recipes he found formative and share-worthy. He includes just as many non-Asian dishes as he does Korean (and he isn't a food snob so he jazzes up instant ramen and he suggests quite a few processed and canned ingredients, example). It's rather sweet that this tough-talking street hood turned respected cook includes a list of "Cultural Shit," like -
"Elders are served first. Don't eat till they start. Eat all your rice. [That's a biggie with my Japanese mom.] Eat a lot. Talk about what you're going to eat for the next meal, even - and especially - if you haven't finished this one."
Avoid this book if you can't take liberal uses of the word "f*ck."
L.A. Son is both a memoir and a cookbook. Roy Choi tells his life story of immigrating to America from South Korea and how his parents struggled to make ends meet. He often spent his time on the rough streets of L.A. getting involved in drugs, gambling, and fights. In his late twenties he decided to get his life in order and trained to be a chef at the Culinary Institute of America. He spent many years cooking in resorts, hotels, and country clubs before losing his job in the 2008 recession. After reconnecting with a former co-worker they invented the Korean taco and introduced it to the streets of L.A. with his food truck.
At the end of each chapter are recipes from throughout his life. It is a mix of Korean, South Asian, American, and Mexican recipes. I'm not an adventurous cook so I might try some of the easier recipes.
Here he is hustling with his parents in L.A.'s jewelry districts . . . . here they are moving into Nolan Ryan's former house . . . .
He's joining a low-rider club . . . . He's being hired off the street to cook at Le Bernadin . . . .
He's studying with Japan's first Iron Chef . . . . He's opening a food truck because it's 2008 and there are no other jobs.
His voice really comes through--very casual and very warm. There are lots of chef biographies around lately, especially bad-boy chefs. This one stands out for being so eclectic, such an unpredictable mish-mash of flavors and styles (pho and birria; ketchup fried rice and pommes anna).
Good combination of memoir and recipes. Recipes are as varied as Choi's experiences living all over LA's cultural landscape. The food seems practical and accessible, ranging from Korean staples, like homemade kimchi to classics such as French onion soup. Choi also manages to throw in quite a few of his own innovations, like kimchi pupusas, spam banh mi, and coconut Thai basil clam chowder. Choi definitely communicates his badass tough-guy attitude while generously offering his warm heart. The only criticism I have is the last chapter of his life story, about his Kogi truck empire. He should have filled in more detail about where he is now, especially his 4 or 5 brick and mortar restaurants with an explanation of their offerings and a few teaser recipes. Otherwise a solid book.
I like reading stories from Roy. His prose is like a homie who's right there talking to you. He's led a colorful life, and it's fun to read about a guy who goes all out in whatever he does and is able to reflect upon it all honestly. There's also recipes, often ending with a Roy Choi line like, "Go to fucking town!" I found these affecting.
Although I'd find the book difficult to ever recommend. It's too much memoir with recipes that connect to his life. I've cooked off some Roy Choi recipes before, but I don't expect to make anything here. And for Roy, a guy that's learned everything in his life by doing, I don't expect to learn by reading. He's still an admirable character, one to enjoy.
First, let me freely admit my bias: I love books about multi-cultural LA. Also, I was in a bit of a reading drought when I picked this one up, so I was craving a good read. L.A. Son definitely delivers. This book could've been hella wack. Thankfully, the writing fully captures Choi's voice and aesthetic. The book truly is a memoir with some recipes. Choi reflects upon all of the cultural experiences that make him truly a L.A. native. Definitely a nuanced portrayal of Asian American masculinity, and it complicates the Model Minority stereotype. I know that I may be grading on a curve here, but this book is a winner!
Surprisingly good read from what I thought was just a cookbook. This is more of an autobiography than a straight-up cookbook and the stories of his life and struggles are really interesting and easy to get through. Finished this book cover to cover in two days and am now really excited about trying some of the recipes. As a warning, the recipes included are not what he is known for (Korean/Mexican culinary mix) but veer more traditional Korean or French/American. If you're interested in getting a glimpse of Roy Choi's Korean American experience growing up in LA in the 80s-90s, totally worth the read. Very entertaining.