Going into James’s apartment, I half expected an organized chaos as images of his intensely-hued Instagram page crossed my mind: Korean dishes splashing in deep red-hued sauces flecked with gochugaru, pork belly slices glistening with slick coat of sesame oil, and his “XL” tornado kimbap rolls packed to the edges with all the goodies you can find in the fridge.

But instead, I entered an almost Zen-like space with a spotless - but enormous - dining table and a neat kitchen that showed no outward signs of anything out of the ordinary. What did provide a glimpse into his mind was the unmissable tall white bookshelves that were filled with cookbooks (“This is my shrine to Ina Garten,” he shared with glee) and most notably, more than 30 different kinds of ramen noodles from all over the world ("This, I brought from Korea!”). His energy is infectious.

(This interview has been transcribed and edited for clarity.)

Tell me your origin story.

My name is James Park. I’m the Social Media Manager at Eater and I create food content around Korean culture. I'm also one of the co-founders of Banchan Social Club: it’s a community that celebrates and encourages all types of Korean a people in New York City to just eat their feelings together over Korean food and lots of soju!

So I was born and grew up in Korea, in a tiny city called Pohang, near Busan; it’s a seaside town. I grew up in a gated community because of my dad’s company, Posco, a very well-known business in Korea. I didn't really think much about my life outside of that gated community. Then I had a Korean tutor who presented the idea, "Would you be interested in sending James with us when we go to America?" Back then, I had a really hard time adjusting to a very strict culture of being in middle school, like having to follow the rigid group mentality, and the competitiveness. I got really tired of it all. So when that opportunity came up, I said, “Why not?” I left for America not really knowing this is where I would spend the next huge chapter of my life, but more like, “Okay, let's see what happens!”

I was 13 when I arrived in Austin, Texas. But just when I thought that it was going to be all good now that I was here, I had to change my host family because my original hosts had to move to Colorado. So by the time that I started school I was living with another family that none of my parents knew, so that certainly made them feel uncomfortable. Then after eighth grade, which was just one year after I had come to the US, I had to relocate to Alabama where one of my mom's elementary school friends lived. Not really my choice. Living with that host family was really difficult for me because they were Korean and there were a lot of values that we didn't quite agree on. There was constantly a lot of friction and, arguably, it was the worst three years of my life.

So I started asking for help at school. My theater teacher posted about me on Facebook, and the person who responded was who ended up being my “American family,” whom I called Princess as my mom and Lurch as my dad.

I was unofficially adopted to that family and they showed me what it was like to be an American, and what it was like to live in America. It was a totally different culture, and I was introduced to so many new things!

There were days when my Princess was like, “We're going to go through American classic films!” We would watch movies like Napoleon Dynamite, which I would have never known about otherwise, but it allowed me to be able to understand some of the references that my friends were making. She also told me that I needed to know about Destiny’s Child, Snoopy, all those Thanksgiving specials, Charlie Brown, and RuPaul. All of that! I just felt like I was really a part of an American family rather than just living as an international student.

They were also the ones that supported me in my decision to go to New York City for college. Princess also really guided me on so many other things that I just couldn't really talk about with my parents, and both Princess and Lurch became the pillars for me when I needed guidance. 

What did being Korean mean to you growing up? How did it change over time?

I grew up denying my Korean identity because I felt like if I held onto that part of me, I wouldn't succeed in this international student life. I felt pressure that I had to really fit into American culture, thinking, “Okay I'm here. I'm one of you guys and I want to be a part of this group,” because no one told me that you could be a successful Korean living in America.

Being Korean didn't really mean anything when I was younger, since I left Korea at such a young age when I hadn’t developed any sense of identity. And in Alabama, being Korean was more like just a back story; like it was just the past and not necessarily my present or future.

I never really thought about how I could represent Korea here, how I can be a proud Korean living in America, and those are questions that I asked myself but didn't really know how to answer, because I didn’t have anyone around me who I could go for this kind of advice.

Then when I moved to New York, I began to feel the void that there was something missing in my life. I started to feel this disconnection with Korean culture that I love so much but I didn't know how to really be a part of.

So I started to seek out other Koreans, whether that was through my work or just various connections. I opened up about how I felt and about my background and I met other people who felt as I did. It was really nice to meet other like-minded people who had also continuously been thinking about this evolving Korean identity.

I found that many people like me recognized they were Korean, but they didn't know what celebrating Korean culture meant. They wanted to reconnect with their roots but didn't know how. So we all felt like we found each other in a way.

And it was a turning point for me in learning there was such a wide spectrum of people who identified themselves as Korean. There are Korean Americans, Korean expats like me, and straight up people who literally got here from Korea two weeks ago, so knowing that it’s not just one thing, but it’s a lot more complex. Acknowledging that there's a whole spectrum of what it means to be Korean and that it's different for everyone - knowing that and accepting that was freeing for me.

You shouldn't say you are no less Korean because you are adopted, or less Korean because you don't celebrate that Korean holiday, or less Korean because you don't like kimchi - that doesn’t mean anything! Koreaness no longer was something that limited me, but something that could push me to move forward.

How has accepting your Korean identity shaped you?

I'm still learning and I'm still owning the process, so I haven't fully figured out how I feel and who I am in America. But I think there are moments that I know makes me feel the most “myself” and just acknowledging the parts I know and feel: I know how I feel when I eat Korean food, I know how I feel when I am surrounded by other Korean people, I know how I feel when I engage with Korean contents, even the small things.

And because I'm not a perfect Korean who knows everything about my home country, I'm still teaching myself so many things about the culture. I find I'm engaging in so many conversations, asking my parents, “What is this part of Korean culture?” I'm still trying to absorb as much information as I can.

The rest of my entire family is in Korea, so by having these conversations, it’s a sign for them to know that "James isn’t just going to move away from us." I want to assure them: I haven't forgotten my Korean roots, I'm not going to erase this part of who I am, and I will continue to celebrate it.

Why Korean food? What drives your contents for yourself and others? 

I didn't grow up in a household where my mom cooked a lot for me, so I honestly don't have a lot of memories growing up like a lot of people do in the industry. So this is my way of reasserting myself of how important it is to know your history, because I think food gets connected to everything; it’s so universal. It's a perfect way to create conversations since I definitely know that I love eating and everyone loves eating as well.

It helped that I also found that I don't suck at cooking! So I honed into that and found smaller joys, too, of creating things that I wanted to eat. I feel such happiness in the whole process of prepping, shopping, cooking, and eating. It makes me feel very complete.

My main message that I want to share is: this is how I make myself happy. One of the many comments that I hear from people is that people genuinely feel this kind of positivity and happiness by watching me cook and eat, and it doesn't even have to be Korean or doesn't have to be anything specific, but they can feel the type of exuberant energy that I'm giving through the video and that's what I want to share.

When do you feel the most Korean?

When I take a first sip of that kimchi jjigae that I make. Because just the feeling of the whole sensory experience of seeing that brick red kimchi and kimchi broth and smelling that and taking a bite of that and just kind of going into my body. Kimchi jjigae, to me, just like to many koreans, is like my soul food.

You know in games where characters drink potions to be stronger and more energized? I feel like every time I eat kimchi jjigae; that's how I feel stronger and that's how I nourish my soul.

What is your dream?

My goal is to create content that makes people happy. I consume a lot of Korean TV that genuinely shares laughter, and I want to bring that kind of vibe to America, knowing that my personality works the best in front of a camera. I also want to continue pursuing the opportunities I can as not only a host, but also conceptualizing different food shows that I've been thinking about. Hopefully I'll be making some sort of videos that make people laugh and happy, and most importantly, hungry.

And because I spent so many years of my life not feeling connected to my Koreanness, I want to create a safe community for all Koreans - even if they're not related by Korean DNA, but feel so connected to Korean culture, or whether they are adoptees but just want to learn more about Korea, or they're just straight-up Korean people who came here but don't know how to assimilate to life in America. There are just so many people from so many different backgrounds that all somehow come back to our mutual Koreanness, and I want to create a community to help them feel safe, help them feel supported, and just make them all welcome as if they have gained their second family here.

Another goal of mine is to bring visibility and acknowledgement of the international student and expat community. I think so many people think of Korean-Americans, but there's so many people who have come to America, just like me, in the middle of their lives. They don't necessarily have a citizenship or even have a family here, you know. There are people like us who are trying to be American, but we're not American, and because we have left our countries for different reasons, we also don't feel necessarily connected fully to our home country.

I want to provide support for the type of struggles that they go through about immigration, visas, and those things; no one really talks about these issues. There's so many different types of immigrant stories out there and it can be really difficult especially if you didn’t move here with your family. So I think that's why I have such a desire for creating a “second family."

As someone who doesn't have any family here, I want to be someone's brother, I want to be someone's cousin; I want to create a community so that they can open up and talk about things that they wouldn’t even be able to talk about with their own family. I want everyone to feel safe, loved, and supported in their journey here.