Inspired by an amalgamation of the many personalities she has encountered in the world of food, Jenny Lau created the character of the modern Asian-American “chef bro”. Any likeness to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Emmett Chow wakes to the sound of his mom passive aggressively vacuuming outside his room. With no time to waste, he starts the day with scripture study: reading a few pages of The Noma Guide to Fermentation.
Then he hops onto Instagram for his weekly live-stream, #chewingtheporkfat. It’s his way of checking in on the community (7k followers and rising – he calls them the ChowFans, geddit?), who in turn keep him humble.
Mostly, it’s a way to offload things on his chest. Today’s topic: a 20-minute vendetta against anyone who says “bao buns”.
That’s so dumb, like, you wouldn’t say “bagel bread”.
As Emmett drives to Lucky Dragon – the resto where he works – he hops on FaceTime with his graphic designer to discuss the logo for his first solo pop-up. He’s already got the name: Nai Nai, which pays homage to his grandmother, who taught him to fold his first dumpling. Good, right?
For a super sick vibe they’re gonna do it in a death metal font, only they can’t decide between Monkey Rhumble and Midnight Grave.
His shift starts. As he juliennes 5kg of scallions, Emmett reminds himself how blessed he is to be following his dream. Growing up, he ignored his parents’ constant nagging that he apply for med school.
He remembers the moment he realised he wanted to be a chef – watching Đức, the head chef at Lucky Dragon, light the wok burner with a cigarette, then proceed to send out 36 consecutive dishes with the cigarette dangling from his mouth, never once putting it down or dropping a flick of ash. What a G.
Now, old master Đức has (begrudgingly) agreed to take Emmett on as his apprentice. As the oil from the deep-fat fryer splatters his forearms again, he reminds himself that his heroes such as Ming, Susur and Roy fried 30,000 egg rolls before him. Patience, young padawan …
It sucks that his parents don’t understand his career choice, even though Emmett keeps explaining that it’s not just a job; it’s a way of life.
With the old guard of family-run restaurants closing, someone’s gotta step up to represent American-Chinese cuisine. And that’s Emmett Chow.
After all, his approach to food is all about honouring traditions and preserving heritage while respectfully modernising it. Imagine … modern Chinese small plates with a twist.
He’s doing it for the culture, he’s doing it to reclaim his heritage. He mutters his mantra to himself while rushing a bag of tepid General Tso’s chicken to a DoorDash driver.
Emmett takes a quick cigarette break while doodling his next tattoo in his notebook. It’s gonna be a huge bicep wraparound of two crossed CCK cleavers rising out of a wok full of flames. But he’s trying to find the right slogan to go with it.
He asked his cousin Jaden to WhatsApp him the Chinese words for Live and Let Die. Emmett can’t read Chinese but Jay went to Chinese school every Saturday when they were kids, so he knows the translation will be tight.
A message from @bettyshanghai pops up on IG. “Yo, I can totally get you into The Chairman!” Sweet. He’s planning his pilgrimage to the motherland, the 852, aka Home Kong.
He only went once when he was a teenager but that sucked cos his grandad had just died so he spent most of the trip doing funeral stuff.
Now, 15 years later, he’s going on his own and with one sole purpose: to eat. He’s already got hookups with local food influencers there such as Betty. There are so many stars on his Google maps that they form one giant star.
He’s a bit worried about ordering food because his Canto is pretty basic, but what more do you need than mm goi and sik teng mm sik gong?
Emmett reckons he can create some sick content out there, just like his homeboy Lucas Sin did for Bon Appétit. Like, go behind the scenes with the old-school roast meat sifus.
That would be really dope content for when Nai Nai launches this fall. Plus, people will take him more seriously if they know he’s actually been to Asia.
He’s cooking a family meal for the restaurant crew today. Emmett decides to do his own take on stir-fried eggs and tomato – that classic homestyle Chinese dish – only he spends way too long delicately wrapping it around some leftover chow fan, in the style of Japanese omurice.
Đức is shooting him hangry death stares by the time he’s plating and garnishing it with leek floss and foraged ramp oil. Emmett reminds him that Anthony Bourdain once said, “The way you make an omelette reveals your character”.
After service, he’s sent to mop the toilets. Emmett fantasises about his latest recipe development for Nai Nai. Pulling inspiration from back catalogues of Lucky Peach, Vice Munchies and TikTok, he’s come up with a masterpiece: “Memory of Mong Kok” – a katsu curry fishball sando with crushed up Chinese Lay’s chips (spicy crayfish flavour, always).
And then there’s his eternal work-in-progress, his raison d’être: the signature Nai Nai chilli crisp. People have begged him for his recipe, but he’ll never share it.
It’s just a shame that there are so many other people making chilli crisp now. His is definitely the best. But, hey, he’s not one to gatekeep. He’s doing it for the culture, he’s doing it to reclaim his heritage.
When he crawls into bed at 2am, exhausted but fulfilled, he salutes the heroes that adorn his wall.
Next to his tattered childhood poster of Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon is a framed limited-edition SHY*BOYZCLUB Year of the Ox calendar, and a signed menu from Mission Chinese’s pop-up at Frankies way back in 2014. He’d dropped US$400 on last-minute flights from Kansas City to New York for that. The menu even has a kung pao pastrami stain next to Danny’s name.
Even though he’ll fall asleep immediately, he puts on Kenji López-Alt’s latest podcast to smooth out the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Emmett shuts his eyes for a hot minute before waking up to do it all again.
