Again, I have been blessed by another great read thanks to Allen & Unwin and NetGalley, where I was lucky to be able to read an ARC of this book.

Having lived in Beijing for a year as an exchange student, I find myself often reaching for books set amongst the Chinese cultural landscape. It brings a sense of nostalgia and longing for me, as I read stories from my first time as a traveler and seeker of new experiences.

Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You is a swirling and evocative memoir by writer, editor, and food reviewer Candice Chung, and it captures the space that can exist between Chinese parents, and their children. This memoir follows Chung post break-up at 35, as she navigates trying to find her connection with her parents, self, and romantic life again. All of which, happens over food, while making food, or even planning to eat food.

There is a beauty in the writing style that I often see in East-Asian writers (though, admittedly I’m not an expert, this is just my experience from what I have read) where life breaths through the words and meaning unfolds more in the “unsaid”. I think this is where Chung’s work really comes alive for me.

Chung, as the narrator watches herself back through her writing with a distilled distance, creating a unique voice that hums with feeling. This distance between narrator, and the world creates a yearning for the reader, that mimics the experience of how Chung feels with the world and in turn, those she has around her. What we as the readers are shown, and therefore feel, is the slight emptiness that comes with what some of us know as depression, and also those small moments light that are connections to others. In Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You, these moments are shared over food.

After reading this paragraph in the book:

“In that moment, I understand what it is to be free. … The pleasure of not-sharing that too few women know. I feel self satisfied and sip my wine. In a foreign city—solitude as blank slate. As possibilities. After New York, I stop saying ‘just for one’.”

I took a moment to pause, my stare turned away from the page as I watch in my minds eye, a shifting flux of the narrative/author as it blends with watching an imagined version of myself, sitting in contented adult freedom at a table for one. I feel the image swill in my mind like a sharp sip of crisp white wine, and savour it.

Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You is a novel to be savoured, and just like a good wine or home cooked meal, it’s even better when shared with friends, so thank you for letting me share my thoughts with you.

I enjoyed this book, but I did feel like it jumped around quite a bit, especially in the beginning, making it difficult to keep track of and understand what was going on all of the time, however as I kept reading I found myself more and more invested in the authors life and keen to read more which resulted in me finishing the book in less than 2 days.
I was lucky enough to receive a review copy of this book

I was instantly drawn to the title of this memoir. I have a Chinese parent, and I can confirm the dissonance of being raised in one culture while being parented in another culture. But this memoir was not as much about parental relationships as about the beginning of a new partnership. A fragile beginning at the start of lockdowns and border closures. I thought this was beautifully written. It felt more like literary fiction than a memoir, with poetic prose and gentle emotional imagery. Most striking of course, was the food writing. Deliciously descriptive. 4.5 stars.

Chinese Parents Don't Say I Love You: A Memoir of saying the unsayable with food by Candice Chung.

I requested this memoir when I saw it on NetGalley because one of my favourite books is a memoir centred around a Korean-American family and food (Crying in H-Mart by Michelle Zauner). My logic was flawless because I also loved this book, especially the 'Choose Your Own Buffet Adventure' chapter.

Candice Chung is a former restaurant reviewer for The Sun-Herald. Her writing has also appeared in a range of Australian media, including Good Food, The Australian Gourmet Traveller, and SBS Food. When her relationship with a man she refers to as 'the psychic' ends, she invites her Cantonese parents to be her plus one when she eats at restaurants she will review. They turn up in matching adventure wear, ready to take on the task earnestly. She meets a new man, 'the geographer,' and then COVID changes not only the restaurant industry but also the world, and food remains a language of love.

If you like gentle, poetic memoirs, you'll love Chinese Parents Don't Say I Love You. If you enjoy reading about food, family, love, loss and grief, then you'll like Chinese Parents Don't Say I Love You. I promise it won't tear your heart out like Crying in H-Mart.

A big thumbs up 👍

As a side note, I was also drawn to the 'fried egg' cover art, which a Google image search told me is a painting by Dutch artist Tjalf Sparnaay.

Body count: 0

Thank you to Allen & Unwin and NetGalley for giving me an ARC to review; Chinese Parents Don't Say I Love You by Candice Chung is out on April 29 2025.

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Lists in books are lazy. There, I’ve said it. I picked up Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You for the food writing. As a food reviewer myself, I found myself nodding at lines like: “To meet deadlines, you need a different sort of dining companion: someone who will eat with you at short notice; someone willing to get on the train for an hour for an ‘urgent’ Somali lunch; someone close enough to let you order everything and pick food off their plate and who doesn’t mind if you point a camera in their direction, causing them to smile, before you say, ‘Wait, your head is blocking the light to the risotto.’” So the opening part of the book, and the parents' reaction to a $40 buck scampi burger, was the bit that delivered for me: "But I remember my parents' faces at the suburban shopping mall–the laying hands on something so unreasonably luxurious. The pure satisfaction of holding what you want."

However what started quite well ended up feeling claustrophobic and introspective about the author and the insecurities she has in her romantic and emotional life, peppered with quotes she happens to find clever from other authors, books and films who do emotions better. If this book was going to be a COVID-19 driven introspective look into an out-of-work food writer's mind, maybe it should be billed as such on the jacket?

I found myself hunting for the food items presented as snippets rather than joined together as part of the narrative: "What I did like about the trattoria was the way they split our pastas into two smaller, sharing portions. Not just for us but for the pairs on actual dates. It was a clever move–being able to taste each other's food without having to ask."

Lots of the book's themes, including the one announced by the title relating to a lack of affection from her parents, feel er... under cooked. I get family estrangement, and I too have used restaurants to interact with family members where it is otherwise difficult: “At the restaurant, we are a normal family.” However in my experience, bad family relationships tend to bleed into all settings: eventually the strangeness of the environment or the presence of strangers doesn’t stop the bad patterns. So you'll understand when I say I found the lack of resolution, the lack of exploring why the writer abandoned her parents for 13 years etc. annoying... The book meanders around a narrative in a way that feels unsatisfying. If books like meals are "a container into which we pour our cravings" this one left me feeling empty.

I've only just recently heard the term "creative non-fiction" and I must say that it particularly shines when supported by the voice and insights of Candice in this memoir.
In this autobiographical piece, we follow perhaps a year in the life of Candice, jumping back and forth into her memories, how food, even as a restaurant critique, is linked with her notions of love, self-care and expression. How her family love dynamic is complicated and is healing through those meals she can share with her parents, and with this new romantic relation she wants to believe in.
The structure of this book is unusual and gripping, you fall into the world of Candice and wonder how it will all unfold. There is a sense of longing through-out and a spike of fear. You are pierced by her anxiety and belief that good things can't last, and with her, you stay on the edge of your seat, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
This is about love, filial love, romance, sisterhood, and appreciation of food. I've read a good amount of food memoirs and this one was a lot more down to earth, about the everyday comforts, the quick, the true and sometimes less appealing foods. But this book also also about so much more. Its about first steps, its about getting back up when you fall, it's about trying to breach walls you think you'll never be able to climb over anymore. It's both about the important things and the tiny things of life.
A very touching book, that you will pause through as you read to contemplate your own life.
Highly recommended if you want some food for thought, pun very much intended.