I’ve written before about connection to history through food and I’ve also written about crying while reading at the pool – this book means I’m going to talk about both. (Also, hi again. I’m back for a bit.)
It’s important to note: the re-emergence of these personal themes doesn’t mean this is a tired read. In fact, this book was a singular experience – I’ve never read anything quite like it.
At its most simple, the author, Michelle Zauner – now a successful musician – wrote about the death of her mother from cancer. But as you read – and as is perhaps suggested in the title of the book – her memories and her grief are inextricably connected to food.
Food is such a beautiful and unique connector. I see it every day in my job – not that I have trouble making small talk with anyone, but it’s a nice and easy entry into a conversation with someone to talk about their favorite chocolate and candy. And for years, I hosted an annual Shabbat dinner for a group of non-Jewish friends so I could share some of my cultural traditions and foods and each woman would take a turn talking about her cultural traditions and foods.
In Zauner’s case, she uses food to tell the story of growing up as the daughter of an immigrant with family living in Korea, using food to fill in the blanks where language could not. She writes about the familiar flavors and bland foods they fed her mother in her hardest moments and the specific foods that correspond to different traditions – either cultural or familial.
Even the title – Crying in H Mart – brings me back to my own experience of seeking familiarity at the supermarket when I was living in Spain at 15. In my most challenging moments, I’d walk the aisles in search of anything familiar – often a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey – and it could quickly soothe a hurting heart.
Amidst all of the food, it’s a beautiful and heartbreaking look at the ruinous nature of cancer, navigation of cultural differences and a woman’s complicated relationship with her mother. It’s deeply personal – you can tell the author doesn’t hold back at all, allowing you to witness her raw grief and honest pain. Put simply: it’s stunning in every sense of the word.
As for my own experience: I finished it in one afternoon and cried the entire time I read it, which made it weird for everyone else at the pool that day. (I removed myself from the situation about halfway through and finished it on my couch.)
And for you, definitely read it – just make sure you have tissues. And – as a good general rule from someone who’s been there before – don’t make eye contact with a stranger while you’re sobbing in public.
You’ll like this if: you like food and emotions. (If you don’t, how are we friends?)
Happy reading!
Other Suggested Content
– Book excerpt from The Cut
– The 2018 New Yorker piece that was the first look at the book
– Interviews with the author: Vogue | The Cut | Vox | The New York Times
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