When I read the news, I went into denial. I simply could not believe that Lucky Peach, my favorite food magazine, the holy grail of all things food, was done. Finished. Over the past week, I have grappled with the following stages of grief (mostly I cursed Chang, Ying, and Meehan) and finally made it to acceptance. In realizing that I will truly have to say goodbye to Lucky Peach come this fall, I decided to write this letter.
Lucky Peach has never shied away from what was weird, smelly, or funny looking. You taught me how to check if my eggs were fresh and how to make the perfect omelette. Without you, how would I have known if I should wash my chicken?
For years, I have enjoyed having a direct line of advice from chefs that I admire. Edouardo Jordan discussed the lack of black chefs in fine dining and the difficulties culinary students face. René Redzepi called for a change in our current kitchen culture and challenged the stereotype that kitchens should be loud with pots (and fucks) flying.
As a woman who has worked in a kitchen, I hope you realize the impact pieces like “Where are all the Women Chefs?”, “Between Machismo and Matriarchy”, and “The Culture of the Kitchen: Iliana Regan” have on girls who dream of dominating in the kitchen.
I have anxiously awaited to dive into each issue where equality and diversity were celebrated, boundaries were pushed, and norms were questioned. I am counting down the days until May’s issue of Lucky Peach is released, but it is mixed with a sense of dread knowing how close we are to the end.
I guess what I am trying to say is thank you. Thank you for paving the way for sites like Spoon University to exist. If not for falling in love with your quirky and stereotype challenging pieces, I would have never developed such a passion for food writing and a hunger for exploring the unknowns.