Moral: most people respond to your emails.
I emailed J. Kenji López-Alt, one of my favourite food writers, late one evening, thinking it might be cool, very cool, to chat. Getting a message back was mind-boggling, but that we actually spoke was such a privilege. For one, he’s busy parenting two children. He’s also a mythical unicorn. He’s written three books, most notably The Food Lab, which sold half a million copies and is a biblical, holy tome on all things culinary – at least in my group chats. Past that, he also wrote a children’s book, Every Night is Pizza Night, and The Wok, which came out yesterday. Additionally, from a GoPro strapped to his forehead, 1.12 million people watch him cook family dinners and late night meals, and sneak bites of whatever he’s making to his dogs, Shabu and Jamón.
Kenji walked Shabu and Jamón as we Zoomed. Friendly, extremely patient, and unfazed by my ‘ahhhs’, we discussed The Wok and what food has meant to him.
I have to ask – why a book on wok-cooking?
The wok is quite misunderstood, typically associated with restaurant-style southern Chinese and Cantonese food, and wok hei: a smokiness you get using industrial burners (like the terrifyingly-named ‘Powerflamer 160EI’ Kenji tested in one video).
Woks are used every day in homes and lots of Asian countries, including Japan. I’m half-Japanese, so I’ve had a wok through all the different stages of my life. My family’s meals are cooked in woks. I brought a wok to college. It’s gotten me through 22 years of cooking professionally. Its versatility, the ease and speed with which you can make a meal – it is, by far, the tool I use the most.
So it’s about techniques? And just thinking back – that links to your other books, which are more like guides and ethos-based.
Yeah, it’s not an authentic regional cookbook at all; it’s more ‘here’s a technique’, ‘here’s dishes you can make with a wok’. The recipes aren’t particularly authentic, and I don’t see myself as defining any cultures with this.
Does this emphasis on applying techniques make your books beginner-friendly? I dunno if that’s the right word because your writing – particularly The Food Lab - is scientific …
It’s definitely the case that I have to cover more basic ground in writing. Cookbooks are a standalone thing; when flicking through, you want all the information there. Videos, on the other hand, are a living medium, so it’s easier to cite sources if I bring in something more specialist, and let people click and learn from them if they’re interested.
“I find that the very best writing pays attention not just to what’s on the plate, but also the ethos behind the dish”
On the subject of videos, I find, as a viewer, yours are compelling because they feel honest. Are videos a lot easier for you to make, or is YouTube just a medium that you feel comfortable with?
YouTube is very easy for me; I can churn a video out in two days. Books, on the other hand, are a five-year project. In terms of content, I made the conscious decision to not care about the algorithm, to do what I find fun. I tried doing some scripted stuff, but I found that sticking a camera on my head and launching into streams of consciousness worked for me. Of course, I am very privileged to be able to decide that on the basis of my successful career, whereas for lots of people, YouTube is their make-or-break moment.
What drew you to cooking initially, and how has that changed over your different jobs?
When I was starting out in restaurants, it was the physicality. I like working with my hands, and I had this idea of cooking as a very pure thing, with no moral ambiguity. As a cook, you’re making people feel better with a nice meal. I don’t really think that cooking is ‘pure’ anymore, especially when thinking about privileges the people you feed have. Food is political, no matter the comments I get telling me to ‘make a burger and stop talking politics’.
The values I see in food constantly evolve. Now I’m in food media, it’s even more important to me to pay close attention to the social implications of food. Obviously, not all food writing has to be political; there’s merit to just writing recipes, but I find that the very best writing pays attention not just to what’s on the plate, but also the ethos behind the dish.
COVID has laid bare pre-existing inequities in our society. It’s completely nuts to me, for example, that fast-food workers are considered an ‘essential service’, and yet these people are also treated the worst. Now that I have a family, I have to be aware of the messages I’m putting out, that I’m advocating for things that matter. Thinking about these global problems can make you feel like you’re lost at sea, but food writing has become an important way for me to address them.
“I’ve had a wok through all the different stages of my life. It’s the tool I use the most”
We ran out of time, so I issued him some quick-fire questions:
What is the wackiest thing you cook in a wok?
Haha, there’s a recipe in the book for pepperoni garlic knots, cooked in the style of scallion pancakes, then dipped in marinara. It’s probably the strangest recipe in the book, but everyone that’s tested it so far seems to really enjoy it.
What was the last thing you cooked?
I made Japanese-style Mapo tofu for my family, cooked in a wok (of course) the way my mom does.
My friends ask what your favourite kind of bread is.
Shokupan, slathered with soft salted butter.
And, finally, what’s the most important thing to learn in cooking?
Confidence and self-forgiveness. Like lots of skills in life, cooking is something you get better at the more you try, so it’s okay to mess up. Also – the point of food, once it’s no longer for subsistence, is to get people around a table. It doesn’t need to be perfect; once people are together, food’s already done its job.
The Wok: Recipes and Techniques was published on Tuesday 08/03/2022 and can be purchased in Waterstones.
