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CHEF PROFILE: HETTY LUI MCKINNON Aman Dosanj
PROFILE: Hetty Lui McKinnon
An intimate conversation with the To Asia, With Love author.
By Aman Dosanj
As a confused third culture kid myself, the first time I read To Asia, With Love: Everyday Asian Recipes and Stories from the Heart—the fourth cookbook from bestselling author Hetty Lui McKinnon—I was like, this is better than therapy!
It’s just one of those books where you come for the comforting recipes but stay for the deliciously relatable stories long after the dishes have been washed and neatly stacked away. So, hearing the latest book has earned the Australian-Chinese writer her first James Beard Foundation nomination (in the vegetarian-forward cooking category) wasn’t all that surprising.
As children of immigrants know, navigating through everyday life is hard (really, really hard). Burdened with writing your own sick notes for school while co-existing in two worlds, “It’s like we belong everywhere and nowhere all at once,” McKinnon says. “Growing up on the fringe of society, you feel like your experience is singular. We feel alone in our loneliness,” she shares. “But writing honestly about my childhood and my life has freed me. It has connected me with a whole global community of third culture kids who felt like they were alone [and] their experiences didn’t matter. It has given value and worth to our struggles. That is the power of writing.”
Now living in Brooklyn, New York, Chinese food makes McKinnon feel most at home. “It provides me with comfort, sparks my memory, keeps me grounded,” she says. Nostalgic yet new, To Asia, With Love is brimming with nonfussy, make-forever, time-saving recipes which celebrate the endless possibilities of third culture cooking (a third interpretation of the two cultures). From the leftover rice jook (congee) and buttery miso noodles (with an Aussie-sized dollop of Vegemite) to life changing udon noodles and soy sauce chocolate brownies, by embracing the third culture, McKinnon can taste the legacy of her ancestors in her food. (Okay, I think it’s best we call it a cookbook-slash-memoir-slash-self-help-book from now on.)
We spoke with her about cultural explorations of identity through food, surrendering to vulnerability, a pilgrimage (that wasn’t) and why she continually pushes through her own discomfort to speak out against discrimination within the food industry.
LET’S TALK ABOUT YOUR CHILDHOOD. DO YOU HAVE A STANDOUT FOOD MEMORY?
Waking up on Lunar New Year to the smell of oil wafting from [the] kitchen. That smell meant it was going to be a good day of eating. My mother always made her ‘special food’: jian diu (fried sesame balls), gok zai (dumplings from our family’s native Zhongshan), si jay gao (steamed potato rice cakes), spring rolls, jook (congee) and lo han jai (Buddha’s feast). I loved the never-ending feast.
TO ASIA, WITH LOVE IS YOUR FOURTH COOKBOOK, CAN YOU TELL ME ABOUT IT?
To Asia, With Love [reflects] my search to understand my identity since moving to the U.S. [in 2015]. But really, this has been a lifelong exploration. The things I have experienced in the past, the bias, the cultural confusion, [and] my internal struggles with being Chinese but also Australian, these are things I could never really verbalize until I started to cook. Cooking gave me the language to understand all these dichotomies in my life—and finally helped me make peace with all these different sides of myself.
AND HOW DO YOUR OTHER BOOKS FIT INTO THIS JOURNEY?
I see all my books as an evolution of my story. Each book exactly encapsulates who I am—and [is] a reflection of my personal journey at a specific time. Community documents how I fell in love with sharing food; Neighbourhood [is about] surrendering to your surroundings and finding community wherever you live in the world; Family is an exploration of how [the] food we eat stays with us forever. These books led to a cultural exploration of my identity in To Asia, With Love. Importantly, this exploration is not over.
WRITING IN GENERAL IS SUCH A VULNERABLE ACT, HOW IS THAT PROCESS FOR YOU?
I do feel absolutely exposed in every single one of my books. Every time I hand in a manuscript, I feel like I have bared too much. I feel uncomfortable with the part of my soul that I have parted with, but that is a good thing. That discomfort means I have given everything I can to that book. It means I have written it with honesty, with truth. Vulnerability is something I encourage all writers to surrender to.
YOU WENT TO HONG KONG TO REDISCOVER YOUR CULTURAL ROOTS. WHAT DID YOU LEARN FROM THAT TRIP?
I went back to Hong Kong in 2018 for work, but I really did see the trip as a pilgrimage. I felt
like it was my ‘homecoming’; like I was going to fi nd ‘my people’—to bask in my Asian-ness. In reality, my experience was the opposite. It was a similar feeling to the cultural confusion I felt growing up in Sydney (Australia). Even though I look Chinese, I felt like a phoney. I speak Cantonese, but I felt embarrassed to use it because I didn’t speak it well enough. It was a confusing trip which highlighted that people like me, third culture kids, are very hard to put in a box. Our experiences are so varied, so complex, and so layered, that it is hard for us to fi nd that sense of home and belonging in one place.
I LOVE HOW YOU TALK ABOUT EMBRACING THE THIRD CULTURE. WHY DID YOU WANT TO GET THAT MESSAGE ACROSS?
Because it allows people like us to understand who we are—we are all a product of our families and our experiences. [The] feeling of rootlessness can be destabilising, but in food, we can harness it into something powerful and resonant. We can use this to challenge fl avour conventions, challenge “authenticity,” [and] think about fl avours and ingredients in a new way. And this is how food evolves.
SO, WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FUSION AND THIRD CULTURE COOKING?
Fusion is a maligned word in the food world because it was chefs bringing cuisines together for their own enjoyment, without [acknowledging and respecting] the people who created these dishes. Third culture cooking is based on experience, connection, and respect for [those who have] come before us.
WHY DO YOU REGULARLY SPEAK OUT ABOUT DISCRIMINATION IN THE FOOD INDUSTRY?
As my audience has grown, I am surprised to fi nd myself in a position of infl uence. I never thought nor expected to hold any sway over what others think. But since I fi nd myself here—and as a woman of colour who is raising children of colour—I think it is important that I speak out, that I support my community, that I am as honest as I can be about the inherent biases faced by food creators of colour. I hope that what I share inspires others to think critically about themselves and how we can all learn and do better. Ultimately, I hope we can decolonize the food space, strip away the white gaze, and leave the industry a place that is a fair playing ground for all.
SPEAKING OF THE FUTURE OF FOOD, WHAT ARE YOUR HOPES?
The future of food should be an inclusive space which respects where food comes from, [that] celebrates small stories. [It] should be a space that stops valuing whiteness over all else, a place that works harder to understand the experiences of people from all backgrounds, a space that says they value diverse stories [and] voices—and truly means it.
DO YOU HAVE ANY ADVICE FOR OTHERS LIVING BETWEEN CULTURES?
Embrace it all. Be inspired by all the sides of your identity. Harness this sometimes-chaotic energy into something new and uncharted.
Aman Dosanj is a food and marketing geek, former England and Arsenal footballer, feminist, middle child, not your conventional brown person, adventurer, From the Wild alum, imperfect environmentalist, storyteller, and just weird enough to be interesting. She is known for her ability to educate, connect and tell stories through food, working with local farmers and producers to create edible adventures in unexpected places with The Paisley Notebook. The best concert she ever attended was Florence and the Machine in Hyde Park, London.
Scan the QR code for Hetty Lui McKinnon’s recipe for Steamed “ Water Egg” with Custard