If you have been a fan of the cooking industry and famous chef's over the last twenty years you know who David Chang is. He is a very popular and successful Chef of Korean heritage who has opened 15 restaurants across the world with groups of advisors and partners started a magazine, a podcast and show on Netflix. He is probably most well known for his first establishment Momofuku . This book covers his rise thru the industry.

David Chang also is not shy about going into his personal struggles with Bi-polar and depression how it has effected in the past and at times how he stills struggles with this condition. He goes in to deep discussion on how it has effected not only his personal life but his professional life also and steps and individuals he has used to help cope with these conditions. This being said do not go into reading this book that this is a self-help book. The only downside I seen with this book is even thought this is Mr. Chang's memoir, his story it felt a little long winded but it was a good book none the less. I received an ARC from Netgalley for a fair and honest review.

My love of ramen made me read this. My appreciation for a good book and a narrator who is honest about their faults as well as delightful descriptions of delicious food made me stay.

Eat a Peach is a treat in every way. Though I have seen Ugly Delicious and am familiar with David Chang's openness I was, frankly, shocked at his willingness to put everything out there. His issues with rage, depression, self-doubt and something like imposter syndrome and his candor in relaying this information to THE WORLD makes this memoir special.

Eat a Peach is an excellent addition to the chef memoir shelf. David Chang, the man behind the innovative restaurant Momofuku (and has since become the founder of a collection of similarly groundbreaking kitchens), talks candidly about his experiences in the food world. What set this chef memoir apart from others is his unflinching take on his own mental health that is interspersed between stories of being posted up at the bar with Anthony Bourdain, scenes of frantic energy in the kitchen, and many, many other terrific moments. I found his voice surprisingly warm and heartfelt when describing an industry that he says, is "one of the dumbest professions you can possibly enter.." but is also "the best job in the world." His 33 Rules for Becoming a Chef at the end are particularly memorable and valuable for almost all creative professions.

Warm, unflinching debut memoir by David Chang, chef and founder of Momofuku. Chang gets real about mental illness, depression, and what it takes to make it as a chef and restaurateur. His stories are honest and harrowing and often hilarious. Will appeal to foodies and readers who enjoy memoirs and travel writing. Also will probably make you want to eat noodles as soon as possible.

Well written memoir in which Chang takes an honest look at his life and gives advice on how to make it in the restaurant industry. Easy read and perfect read-alike for Kitchen Confidential fans.

David Chang starts off wondering what this book will even be about and delivers a fascinating memoir I couldn’t put down.

It’s an honest depiction of his life as a Korean-American, his mental health struggles, family relationships, becoming a chef, and opening restaurants unlike any other in the United States at the time.

While there is humour, he does not shy away from talking about the tough stuff.

CW: suicidal thoughts.

I have had a small obsession with David Chang’s culinary creations since 2014 when I first set foot in Momofuku. The vibe is lively and hip. The tables are a rustic pine and run along the restaurant to allot for family-style dining. This appeals to me; I love turning to the stranger next to you and finding out they just flew in from London or just finished a tour in Afghanistan or were in town for a particular show. New York is filled with stories, and places like Momofuku bring them to the surface for everybody to share. The food told its own story of commingled cultures and paradoxical flavor profiles. I have been back every time I travel to NYC. I also own and cook from his Momofuku cookbook, a present from my daughter to commemorate our shared love of Chang ramen. When his memoir, Eat a Peach was announced, it immediately went on my to-buy list.

Chang weaves a narrative of a person always on the outside, never quite belonging. He was not the “typical” Asian American model student, but he points out not every Asian is good at school or any one thing. They are individuals as much as any other ethnicity. He brings to bear his own issues coming to terms with his heritage, “While cooking has enabled me to fight battles and explore subjects I am too afraid to approach in real life, I couldn’t overcome the shame and anxiety I’d felt about Korean food since I was a kid.”

Majordomo was where Chang took the initial steps integrating Korean identity, it was Kawi where he really embraced Korean food. He makes a point throughout of addressing the cultural racism existent in the restaurant business. Many ethnic chefs stay in their lane and do not upset the stereotype of what a non-caucasian chef should be cooking. White chefs have been appropriating and reinventing for always. “I think the reason why minority chefs in America find cultural appropriation so upsetting is that we feel obliged to uphold these arbitrary proscriptions, while white chefs do whatever they want. We’re following the rules and they’re not. Most of the time, they didn’t even bother to learn the rules. I decided rather than getting upset about it, I should just start playing the same game.” Momofuku almost went out of business early on because Chang was cooking what he thought people wanted out of a noodle bar instead of cooking what he wanted to eat. He came up with some tenets he lives by with his restaurants:

Gather from Everywhere- appropriate, but give credit for inspirations
The Dining Room is Your Classroom- watch your diners, learn from them, allow your food to evolve
Forget everything you think and embrace what you see- don’t rely on common wisdom, be open to every idea sometimes the best dishes happen from accidents
Merge- the most interesting ideas come from bringing together worlds that seem so different. Everything can be Korean, Italian, Japanese or Mexian and American food can be anything

A lot can be found about Chang’s journey to chef stardom, his restaurant secrets, and how he made it despite the odds within these pages, but a more sensitive and poignant narrative emerges from this memoir about depression, the stigma of mental illness in the culinary world, and addictions. Chang self-medicated for years by throwing himself headlong into work.

As Chang writes in the book, “work is the last socially acceptable addiction.” As a former restaurateur and educator this resonated with me. I always attribute it to the need to be busy. Society reinforces this idea of working hard as a sign of success, and it becomes almost a competition for who can work harder and longer. I still feel agitated if I do not have a full plate. For Chang it was like heroin. Getting things done, fully immersing yourself in the work allows you to ignore what is going on inside yourself. “I found meaning in repetitive tasks, as long as I did them with intent and purpose. Many chefs opening restaurants talk about the rush. It’s not only a rush to me.” Towards the end of his stint at Cafe Boulud, Chang had his first full-blown depressive phase of bipolar disorder. He had used work as an outlet to keep his depression at bay, but the confluence of personal issues broke his fragile control of day-to-day routine.

Following this Chang sought out professional help, and found it in the form of Dr. Eliot. Through his sessions with him, Chang finally verbalized his struggle with fitting in and constant feelings of inadequacy. Eliot’s office was also the first place he admitted that the only thing that could make it better was to turn it off. Self-medication with drugs and alcohol are common for suicidal people, and Chang readily admits suicide was always on his mind. He says, “Nothing took the thoughts of suicide away. If anything, the drugs were a gasp of air between the waves crashing down on my head.” Chang also talks emotionally about losing one of his mentees to a drug overdose. He does not go into gory details out of respect, but he does give us an intimate portrait of the guilt and failure he felt for not saving him, not being the one to recognize he had a problem. Drug abuse is one of those things that does not have an easy fix. As we see people we love struggling with addiction, we can confront them, offer them resources, but ultimately we cannot save them unless they want to be saved. Chang explores this notion of culpability with his therapist.

He also spends some time talking about his relationship with Anthony Bourdain whose death brought to light the issues with mental illness in the restaurant industry. “Tony never worked in the upper echelon of restaurants. That gave many of us in the industry reason to thumb our noses at home, but it’s also exactly what made him remarkable. He was a lifelong line cook — the kind of guy who never aspires to climb the ladder of fancy restaurants. He represented the majority of cooks, and wrote about our world with extraordinary intelligence and empathy...He was the kind of guy you wanted to hang out with, because first and foremost, a fan of food and restaurants.” As a reader, you can feel the emotional toll Bourdain’s suicide took on Chang.

He poured out everything to Eliot, and through their conversations Chang’s desire to move away from fine dining and move towards the idea that all people, regardless of economic class, could appreciate good food. He drew inspiration from his own experiences abroad. Momofuku was born out of this drive to democratize restaurants. Chang’s journey to restaurateur included stints at Craft and Cafe Boulud. He trained under great chefs, and worked hard. Keeping Momofuku and then his later restaurants alive was an exercise in constant refining and reinvention.

In some ways the endnotes of each chapter are the most entertaining. Chang fully gives himself over in these and provides a glimpse of his wit. One of my favorites was his note on what he ate growing up. “We’re not talking about grass fed cows here. My family bought the cheap, chemically-enhanced stuff. When people ask me about my disproportionate size, I tell them I’m a product of Bovine Growth Hormone.” His self-deprecating tone is on full display in the endnotes.

As a reader and ardent fan of Lucky Peach, I was glad Chang spent some time on what happened to the publication. He provided a recounting of the inception and ultimate demise of the insane magazine. Chang wrote a great deal about how careful he was about investment opportunities and financial snags with his restaurants, but with Lucky Peach it was a passion project and it became so twisted up with Momfuku that it threatened both ventures. Chang beautifully writes about some of the people he lost through the Lucky Peach endeavor including his longtime collaborator, Peter Meehan. He also addresses the intense criticism he took from people about his perceived role in Lucky Peach’s failing. You can feel his remorse at its demise. He saw the magazine as an extension of the insurgency he tried to create with his restaurants. Momofuku means lucky peach. By giving the magazine the moniker of his first restaurant, a business he poured himself into, he showed his love. I miss the publication, as do many others, but I know what a tough time it is for any publication, print or otherwise.

Insurgency is a recurring theme in Chang’s life and professional pursuits. He always seems to be looking for a way to disrupt established stereotypes, cultural norms, and hierarchies. When planning Ko and Fuku, Chang set out to upend racism and classicism in restaurants. With Ko he strove for ultimate democratization of the restaurant experience. When talking about Ko’s reviews Chang said, “I’m not afraid to tell you I was proud about this one. Not the awards, necessarily, but the insurgency of it all. I loved that just when people had decided we were media darlings, we flipped the story to our advantage.” Ko did not take reservations, no special treatment, anybody could get a table if they were willing to wait. The policy put off the critics and dining literati, but Chang showed you don’t have to pander to the wealthy and influential, you just need a good product.

Chang in true insurrectionist fashion outlined his plan for FUKU, his statement restaurant poised to exploit the Asian American racism in the United States with a menu modeled after Chick-fil-a, a co-opter of Southern African American foodways. Nishi presented an opportunity to challenge the culturally constructed worth of a noodle. We expect pasta to be expensive while noodles have to be cheap, even if the noodle dish takes many more ingredients and preparation. Chang sought out to change our perception of what worth we assign to “ethnic” cuisine.

He found like-minded individuals along the way. Christina Tossi, amazing pastry chef and organizer extraordinaire, started Milk Bar in the back room of Ssam Bar. She rejected the notion that you had to be classically French trained to be a good pastry chef. Instead she took the places that shaped her, like Dairy Queen, and created desserts like the McDonald’s-inspired deep fried apple pie for Ko. When last I went, the desserts at Momofuku were products of Milk Bar and Tossi’s whimsical style.

His book ends with addressing the issue of sexism, and misogyny in the restaurant world. He acknowledges his own privilege in the time of #metoo as he references a photo of three men as “Gods of Food,” when it came out it didn’t occur to him to question why no women were featured. “It’s not about the glass ceiling or equal opportunity. It’s about people being threatened, undermined, abused, and ashamed in the workplace. It’s embarrassing to admit how long it took me to grasp that.” Chang spends some time giving voice to his own complicity.

“I’ve talked alot about failure as a learning tool, but it’s really a privilege to expect people to let us fail over and over again. There are too many dudes in my story in general, and you can still sense my bro-ish excitement when I tell old war stories. Almost all the writers and artists I mention are men, and most of the movies I reference can be found in the DVD library of any frat house in America. It’s my truth, which is why I am leaving them in here, but I wish some of it were different. I’m trying to be the person I want to be. I’m trying to build a company that is better than I am and an environment where the next generation will have better answers to the questions we’re facing.”

The book fittingly closes with David Chang’s 33 Rules for Becoming a Chef. I love this because he is dead on. It is not romantic. It is a lot of work, and a lot of menial work. A couple of my favorites are:

Being a chef is only partly about cooking- there is also dish washing, mopping floors, taking out the garbage etc. I worked every position in the restaurants I came up in. There is no glory in cleaning grease traps or any of the other unromantic tasks a chef does.

Make great family meal. I love his story about chef Akhtar Nawab making samosas for everybody at Craft. We always did a rotating Sunday Supper at my place. A different person prepared each week something they would eat at home, something simple, something comforting. It was about the fellowship and the family stories. It made all those ridiculous hours spent together a little easier.

Immerse yourself in all the awful, boring shit- learn the language of health departments, payroll, heating and air conditioning etc. This is absolute gold for people hoping to open their own place. You must speak the language of all those people who have to sign off on you actually opening and running successfully.

Save something for the swim back. “I gravitated towards the notion that is you worked like you had nothing else to live for, you could overcome whatever obstacles came your way...I have no doubt if I had given anything less than everything, Momfuku would not have made it...I’m so lucky this business did not kill me.” This is part of that addiction to work. If you pour all of yourself into the buildup, you will use yourself up before you can have a happy ending. This one is going on my wall as a reminder there is more than just the now.

Eat a Peach is not a light read. There are moments of personal darkness and cultural criticism that spare no detail. Chang talks intimately about the stigma against mental illness and therapy redolent in the restaurant industry- a world celebrated for long hours, high stress, verbal abuse, and addiction. His humility in discussing these issues, as well as his personal journey with racism opens the door for some important conversations that have needed to happen, especially in the culinary world, for a long time.

I leave you with one last thought. This memoir will come out as we are fully in the throws of a pandemic. Even in the small space of time since Chang finished writing it, the restaurant world has been turned upside down. He has given a few interviews about the prospects for the industry where he has become a cornerstone. His decision to fully close two of his restaurants, and fold another two into each other rocked the culinary world and sounded the call for what could be coming.

“All restaurants operate on razor-thin margins, but some are thinner than others. In the case of Nishi and CCDC, the margins were particularly challenging,” Mariscal writes in an open letter to the company posted on Momofuku’s website. “Nishi and CCDC underwent many iterations—renovations, menu overhauls, service changes—on the path to profitability. But as we looked at new realities, neither restaurant had enough cushion to sustain the shock of this crisis. We investigated every scenario to make the math work—negotiating with our landlords, changing the service model, and more—but with increased investments in health and safety, huge reopening expenses, and the lack of rent relief, the financial picture of these wholly-owned restaurants no longer made sense.”

I am certain David Chang and his team are exploring every avenue to weather this in some fashion, but I worry for all those small mom and pop places with only one location operating on that razor-thin budget. What will survive Covid-19, and how will the landscape of dining out shift?

David Chang is the uber-successful head chef of many restaurants, including Momofuku, Ko, and Milk Bar. You’ve probably seen him on Netflix’s Ugly Delicious and Bravo’s Top Chef. Honestly, he’s everywhere—opening a restaurant or publishing a new cookbook like every other year. He’s a machine.

I was so excited to read his memoir, Eat a Peach. He strikes me as an intense, quiet, and interesting guy, so I was curious to know more of his story. This book isn’t what I expected it to be. In fact, it took me some time to fully process how I feel about it, but here goes.

First, the positive… I sailed through this one in no time. The book is written well and totally bingeable. Who wouldn’t love hearing all the crazy war stories from one of America’s top restauranteurs? Seriously, this guy has rubbed noses with the elite of the elite. Also, for anyone who is a chef or is considering becoming one, you’ll want to check out the “33 Rules for Being a Chef” at the back of the book. It’s one of the strongest sections by far.

So yes, lots to love. The weird thing, though, is how misled I felt when I finished reading. From the start, Chang talks about being an outcast as a child, a misfit. He describes going to therapy and struggling with depression his whole life. He sets his story up for the reader to think of him as an earnest, well-meaning, introspective “nice guy,” just doing the best he can. Even when he’s describing his rage fits and frustration in the kitchen, his all-consuming anger that is ever with him, the emphasis is on his internal struggle with feelings of unworthiness. And I’m sure that’s true—his anger probably IS fueled by his deep insecurities. But these justifications also start feeling like copouts real quick. David Chang doesn’t strike me as an especially happy person, but I think David Chang is still pretty happy with David Chang.

I’m going to assume that Chang is not being intentionally dense. I think he’s probably just a tormented soul, who oscillates between rage and despair, but has enough self-awareness to (sometimes) recognize when he’s hurt another person’s feelings. I think Chang’s main problem is that he feels justified in his rage and so doesn’t feel strongly that he needs to change (which kind of feels, uh, abusive?). I actually loved the chapter on Chang’s time spent with an executive coach who calls him out on exactly this. (And to Chang’s credit, he did choose to include this in his book, when he could have easily not.)

“You have to eat the shit,” he repeated over and over during one of our first sessions. He had the tone and zeal of a boxing trainer. “Shit tastes good!”

“What does that even mean?” I chuckled.

“Don’t laugh,” he said sternly. Marshall told me that my job wasn’t to cook food. It wasn’t about looking at numbers or commanding people, either. My company would live or die based on my capacity to eat shit and like it. “I am going to watch you eat as many bowls of shit as our time will allow,” he said. We had plenty of time.

Eating shit meant listening. Eating shit meant acknowledging my errors and shortcomings. Eating shit meant facing confrontations that made me uncomfortable. Eating shit meant putting my cell phone away when someone was talking to me. Eating shit meant not fleeing. Eating shit meant being grateful. Eating shit meant controlling myself when people fell short of expectations. Eating shit meant putting others before myself.

This last detail was important. With Dr. Eliot, I got away with describing my MO as self-destructive—my managerial tendencies were harmful, but only to me. Now, according to Marshall, I was using that assessment as cover for my poor behavior. In my mind, all the people who had left Momofuku were leaving me. When they failed at their jobs, they were betraying me. Marshall pointed out the ugly truth that this belied. I believed that the people at Momofuku were there to serve me.

On the one hand, Chang is strong enough and determined enough to never lower his expectations. Which good for him, right? But that’s a luxury, too. It’s a privilege to never have to settle in life, to never have to put someone else’s needs before your own—even if you feel depressed about it afterward. And you especially don’t get to have it both ways. If you’re a dick, be a dick…but don’t try to make me think you’re a good guy at the same time. Anyway, it will be really interesting to see what being a parent does to him. I’d love to read his next memoir, ten years from now—or better yet, his son Hugo’s memoir twenty years from now. What a fascinating story that will be.

Having devoured both seasons of Ugly Delicious, it was a pleasure getting to read David Chang's memoir. Eat a Peach provides a window into Chang's experience in the food industry and his life in general. I would recommend this book to anyone who loves food and reading about rich and unique life experiences!

This is a fascinating memoir! I've heard of David Chang and his Momofuku empire but never knew much of his early life or just how unlikely his success was. Quite an interesting look into building successful restaurants. Also he talks very frankly of his mental health struggles.

David Chang, author of Eat A Peach- A Memoir, is the oftentimes controversial chef and founder of Momofuku. Called one of “the most influential people of the 21st century” by Esquire, his restaurants have had a tremendous impact on the food world. I read an ARC of the book courtesy of NetGalley and Random House, in exchange for an honest review. I need to admit that I have never eaten at one of his many successful restaurants.

While I was familiar with Chang through his Netflix serious Ugly Delicious., I knew little about him. After reading his memoir I was left with the following: 1) I would not want to work for the chef; 2) I would not want my worst enemy to work for him, 3) he and Hell's Kitchen Chef Gordon Ramsey could be the best of friends as they have so much in common - none of it pleasant), 4) foodies will probably eat this book up but it will not be to everyone else's taste. and lastly, don't expect recipes. While he may be a foodie genius, he consistently seems to have a chip on his shoulder, suffers from an inferiority complex, and is somewhat outrageous for its own sake.This does make for some interesting reading, but the attitude gets tiresome.

Told in a frankly engaging, first-person narrative, Eat A Peach trace;s David Chang's rise to the top of the food chain - from his first noodle restaurant in NYC to becoming an acclaimed international restaurateur and media wunderkind. He shouts a lot, screams even more, tells some interesting stories (but sadly only a few), and constantly ponders why he is so mentally messed up. He warns the reader upfront that this is not the usual chef's memoir and, sadly he is right. He does point out that the best chapter of the book may be the last, where he discusses what a wannabe chef should expect going into the trade, and he is correct. That chapter is the primary reason I gave the book three stars instead of two.

I received an advanced reading copy through NetGalley.

I've been a huge fan of David Chang's for a while now. I follow him on all the social media, I've eaten at a handful of Momofuku restaurants, I own the Momo cookbook, I inhaled each episode of both of his shows as soon as they dropped, and I regularly listen to his podcast. Huge fan. Though he addresses some issues of mental health, imposter syndrome, etc. across those mediums, he really takes a deep dive in Eat a Peach.

Admittedly, he comes off as pretty abrasive and obnoxiously stubborn in the media, online, etc. He's juggles the line well between being a cocky know-it-all and super self deprecating. I think this memoir did a pretty good job in showing why he is the way he is and acts the way that he does; he's still figuring it out and takes us on that journey with him. I wasn't expecting the level of candor he delivers in this memoir, and was blown away by both his willingness to reveal everything and how well written it was for someone who constantly calls himself an idiot who knows nothing. This definitely isn't a book for someone who's looking for a guide of how to become a celebrity chef, though there are some fun little pointers at the end if you're trying to work in the restaurant industry.

The only part I could've done without is the sections where he mentions things like "I'm going to edit this out," which were then followed by a few different rambling sentences in a different font, which built off of the points that were to be edited out. It was a confusing little stretch to read, though it might present differently in a printed version of the book.

Dave Chang's personality is definitely not for everyone, but if you've found him entertaining in other realms, I think his book is a great read and gives some really good insight into his world.

Thank you Net Galley for the ARC. This is dave chang's memoir about two things - his journey as a chef and restaurant owener and his struggle with manic depressive disorder. Good read!

I've heard of David Chang before, but was burnt out on celebrity chefs when he became popular so I never got familiar with his work. Since I'm out to read whatever Asian-American or Asian-focused ARCs available via publishers on Netgalley, I gave this a shot. I remember hearing that Chang was a typical asshole bro chef, and he got me in the first half, not gonna lie. If it weren't for the compelling events in the memoir, I would not have gotten to the part where Chang talks about getting professional help. That hooked me into reading the rest of the book, which recounts Chang's impressive professional and personal growth. I got teary-eyed when he recounted the last time he saw Tony Bourdain. I'm already planning on buying a copy of this book to give to a friend way more into the chef scene than I am.

As a small business owner and a person passionate about cooking and baking, I found this book inspirational. I was initially drawn to reading it by my love of Ugly Delicious and what David Chang was trying to express in terms of our collective human culture. The voice of the book was great, and I felt like I was listening to an interesting conversation between two friends. I found the discussion on mental health, a vein throughout the memoir, and obviously a vein running through David's life, particularly riveting personally to me, as someone who has also continually dealt with depression. I found myself highlighting so many phrases throughout, to refer back to later and discussing different sections to my partner.

Overall, this was a refreshing memoir expressed with honesty and humanity that offers a glimpse into the restaurant business, Korean-American culture, entrepreneurship and just plain life. I definitely recommend.

I really enjoyed David Chang's Eat a Peach: A Memoir, though I shouldn't be surprised since I really enjoyed the appearances he made on Mind of a Chef and his series Ugly Delicious on Netflix. Though a cowriter is listed on the cover, it is clear a lot of effort was put into crafting this book in Chang's voice. You can almost hear him reading it in your head.

In this memoir we learn about Chang's life, from growing up as a first-generation Korean American (and pre-teen golf prodigy) in Virginia, to his struggles with mental health, to becoming one of the most well known chefs in America, Chang is remarkably charming throughout even when describing his struggles with rage and crippling self doubt.

Overall, I found this memoir to be heartfelt, self-effacing and thoughtful. As Chang is a somewhat polarizing figure in the world of cooking, I would say if you know anything about David Chang you already know if you will like this book or not. If you have never heard of David Chang, it's an interesting window into the world of professional chefs and what it takes to succeed in such a demanding industry.

Recommended for people who like memoirs about food/cooking/the restaurant business.

Received an advance reading copy through Netgalley.

First came across David Chang through Netflix’s Ugly Delicious. Really enjoyed his perspective on different cuisines around the world in the show and criticism of the culinary industry without holding back. Eat a Peach, continues on that and provides a better understanding of David Chang-the man, the myth, the legend. Not only is he extraordinary at what he does, has accomplished and continues to do, it’s even more fascinating how he accomplished it all.

Even though the book is labeled as a memoir, it's much more than that. Chang touches on a number of topics (mental illness, Asian-American experience, imposter syndrome, entrepreneurship, restaurant kitchen culture, etc.). His honesty about all his flaws and shortcomings was refreshing. It was also impressive reading about all his accomplishments and the long list of awards that he's collected/won over the years. Enjoyed reading the memoir and I look forward to reading/watching his next venture(s).

Goodreads review

I'm an unapologetic David Chang fan. I've enjoyed his restaurants, programs and cooking from his Momofuku cookbook (as well as Christina Tosi's cookbooks) so I went into this expecting to like it and I did. I felt like this book gave me a greater depth into Chang's life story than I'd gotten from everything I'd already watched or read. What I've always loved about Chang is that he comes across as deeply authentic and creative, and both came through in this memoir. As someone who lives with mental illness I also VERY MUCH appreciated how it was handled in this book. I thought he wrote about it in a very candid and personal way. I think it also raises interesting questions about mental illness and creative professions in that sometimes mental illness can drive creative process even when it's destructive to everyday life. What I especially appreciate about Chang is that he doesn't pretend to be perfect but speaks of his evolution, which I found very inspiring. I also really loved how he talked about failure and how he took the challenging aspects of his life and kept going. Would highly recommend to other David Chang fans.

David Chang is an asshole, and he knows it. But what strikes me is the fact that he is trying to make the changes in his life to become less of one. Eat a Peach gave me more insight on his upbringing and made him relatable in the sense that all he wanted to do was be someone his parents could be proud of. I laughed alongside him in the memories of his parents’ fails, reminiscing over my own parents’ mistakes.

His openness with his bipolar disorder and manic obsession with work was eye-opening. It doesn’t excuse his behavior with how he treated his staff, but definitely brought to light why he was the way he was.

Overall, I’ve closed the book with a new understanding of someone I both admired and have been influenced by.

Thank you Netgalley, Crown Publishing, Chang and Ulla for allowing me to read and review this book.

Fascinating read. Really got to know the author in my feelings for him came full circle by the end of the book. I really enjoyed it.