Take a photo of a barcode or cover
43 reviews for:
Chinese Parents Don't Say I Love You: A Memoir of Saying the Unsayable with Food
Candice Chung
3.92 AVERAGE
43 reviews for:
Chinese Parents Don't Say I Love You: A Memoir of Saying the Unsayable with Food
Candice Chung
3.92 AVERAGE
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
Hypnotically written; a nonlinear memoir with a bit of a deceptive title. This is what I mean when I say I like memoirs—deeply reflective, poetic, philosophical memorials. Who a person is, not just their story.
Thanks to NetGalley and Elliott & Thompson for the ARC!
Candice Chung’s Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You: A Memoir of Saying the Unsayable with Food is a breathtaking book with an unfortunate title—you’ll find little of the familial drama you might expect.
It’s a bit surprising that Chung, a former food journalist, names the memoir after her parents when they seem to inhabit the margins of the story; it’s really about the author’s burgeoning romance with “the geographer.” That said, perhaps the title accurately reflects the way that Chung’s parents always exert a subtle influence in the background of her life. Either way, would-be readers should expect more than a trope-filled book about difficult Asian parents.
Instead, Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You is an unabashed, romantic delight. It’s a reader’s memoir, decorated with references to Yiyun Li and Gaston Bachelard and Deborah Levy and sentences like, “I want to eat something unreasonable. I want to eat a pure bright light.” It’s about falling in love and crawling out of fear. There’s a humility and aspiration toward beauty that immediately elevate the book above many of its peers.
Simply put, Candice Chung does not treat herself as the most interesting part of her book. She allows herself to approach her themes as an act of exploration rather than explanation, noting early on that “. . . at the start of a story, protagonists are almost never aware of their needs.” For some readers, that uncertainty might be frustrating.
Chung wastes no time trying to convince us that her story is exceptional, but she writes with a grace that seems to believe that every life is exceptional. The best memoirists recognize that the form’s value is in how it’s told—even the most mundane life can be magical if it’s interpreted as such. Chung presents even negligible details with such care and richly textured prose that their specificity touches on something universal. For example, when she describes the discomfort of trying to decide whether or not to leave a date due to a scheduling conflict, we can feel her sweaty-palmed, stomach-churning anxiety. She seems to linger on every word, dwelling in language as a collection of flavors. It’s appropriate that a food writer would craft prose that seems concerned with mouthfeel.
If pressed for critiques, I would say that the memoir loses a little focus as the author’s romance progresses. It’s not exactly a problem because the prose is still so gorgeously written, but I found myself wondering what the book is about. Similarly, there are numerous shifts in form, evocative of Carmen Maria Machado and Maggie Nelson (both of whom are referenced here), but their inclusion often feels a little arbitrary. As an example, there’s a chapter that morphs into a choose-your-own-adventure. It’s fun and wonderfully executed, but it doesn’t contribute to the memoir as a whole project.
But those little complaints don’t matter, and how could they?
Chung seems most concerned with the particular joy that is cooking for others and sharing a meal with them, and she invites us in, complete with clutter of a messy kitchen. For a book about “saying the unsayable,” the author never struggles to find the perfect word, and in a world of easily digestible and forgettable memoirs, it’s refreshing to read something that both trains the reader’s palate and rewards them for it.
Candice Chung’s Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You: A Memoir of Saying the Unsayable with Food is a breathtaking book with an unfortunate title—you’ll find little of the familial drama you might expect.
It’s a bit surprising that Chung, a former food journalist, names the memoir after her parents when they seem to inhabit the margins of the story; it’s really about the author’s burgeoning romance with “the geographer.” That said, perhaps the title accurately reflects the way that Chung’s parents always exert a subtle influence in the background of her life. Either way, would-be readers should expect more than a trope-filled book about difficult Asian parents.
Instead, Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You is an unabashed, romantic delight. It’s a reader’s memoir, decorated with references to Yiyun Li and Gaston Bachelard and Deborah Levy and sentences like, “I want to eat something unreasonable. I want to eat a pure bright light.” It’s about falling in love and crawling out of fear. There’s a humility and aspiration toward beauty that immediately elevate the book above many of its peers.
Simply put, Candice Chung does not treat herself as the most interesting part of her book. She allows herself to approach her themes as an act of exploration rather than explanation, noting early on that “. . . at the start of a story, protagonists are almost never aware of their needs.” For some readers, that uncertainty might be frustrating.
Chung wastes no time trying to convince us that her story is exceptional, but she writes with a grace that seems to believe that every life is exceptional. The best memoirists recognize that the form’s value is in how it’s told—even the most mundane life can be magical if it’s interpreted as such. Chung presents even negligible details with such care and richly textured prose that their specificity touches on something universal. For example, when she describes the discomfort of trying to decide whether or not to leave a date due to a scheduling conflict, we can feel her sweaty-palmed, stomach-churning anxiety. She seems to linger on every word, dwelling in language as a collection of flavors. It’s appropriate that a food writer would craft prose that seems concerned with mouthfeel.
If pressed for critiques, I would say that the memoir loses a little focus as the author’s romance progresses. It’s not exactly a problem because the prose is still so gorgeously written, but I found myself wondering what the book is about. Similarly, there are numerous shifts in form, evocative of Carmen Maria Machado and Maggie Nelson (both of whom are referenced here), but their inclusion often feels a little arbitrary. As an example, there’s a chapter that morphs into a choose-your-own-adventure. It’s fun and wonderfully executed, but it doesn’t contribute to the memoir as a whole project.
But those little complaints don’t matter, and how could they?
Chung seems most concerned with the particular joy that is cooking for others and sharing a meal with them, and she invites us in, complete with clutter of a messy kitchen. For a book about “saying the unsayable,” the author never struggles to find the perfect word, and in a world of easily digestible and forgettable memoirs, it’s refreshing to read something that both trains the reader’s palate and rewards them for it.
lighthearted
fast-paced
Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You is a tender exploration of family, culture, and the unspoken ways we show love. Through food, some shared some alone, Candice Chung chronicles a specific period in her life when, after the end of a long-term relationship, she attempts to reconnect with her estranged Cantonese parents.
Written in a creative non-fiction style, this memoir is unlike most. It's non-linear fashion it is capturing the emotional ebb and flow of healing, dating, and rebuilding family bonds. The non-traditional structure is a refreshing take and suits the introspective, fragmented nature of the story she’s telling.
While the book touches on food as a bridge between past and present, readers looking for vivid, detailed food writing might find it a little light. Similarly, at times I wished for more personal depth particularly around her relationship with her parents as the title suggests.
Still, there's an undeniable warmth in Chung’s voice and a realness in the way she portrays complicated family love. It’s a gentle, thoughtful read that embraces the imperfect, non-verbal ways we try to connect with those who matter most. Overall a lovely read.
Thanks to NetGalley and Elliott Thompson for the ARC!
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
I don’t think anything I say about this audiobook will be able to do it justice so let me just start off by saying that is hypnotically lyrical - the feeling of slowly submerging yourself in water and letting the waves wash over you. this novel reads not as a memoir but almost as literary fiction - the way Chung articulate her feelings, the way she talks about writers and artists and her own experiences, the way she talks about the wonder that is food and eating - it’s all a treat to read or (in my case listen to).
it took me a bit of time to read this book not because I didn’t enjoy it but because my experience of reading it was like having a big bowl of your favourite food in front of you. As much as you want to dig right in and devour it in one sitting you also understand that what is what is so much more gratifying is savouring it so that you can taste the flavour, so that you can taste the texture, so that you can take it all in and not just consume it but sit with it and…I think that that is the best way this novel is read or listened to. 10 out of 10, I absolutely recommend it to everyone, especially immigrants, people of colour, women - but honestly if you’re a human just read this book.
it took me a bit of time to read this book not because I didn’t enjoy it but because my experience of reading it was like having a big bowl of your favourite food in front of you. As much as you want to dig right in and devour it in one sitting you also understand that what is what is so much more gratifying is savouring it so that you can taste the flavour, so that you can taste the texture, so that you can take it all in and not just consume it but sit with it and…I think that that is the best way this novel is read or listened to. 10 out of 10, I absolutely recommend it to everyone, especially immigrants, people of colour, women - but honestly if you’re a human just read this book.
emotional
hopeful
reflective
medium-paced
I enjoyed this memoir, although I did feel the title and blurb was a bit misleading. I was expecting a lot more about the author's parents and what food meant to them as a family, but it was more focused on the author's burgeoning romance with a man known only as "the geographer". I didn't mind not knowing his name and the love story was very sweet but it just wasn't what I was expecting so I had to readjust. Once I did that I enjoyed the book a lot more. I liked the foodie content and her relationships with both the geographer and her family members were interesting and emotional. I'm glad I read it and I'd recommend it if you like memoir, food writing and books about relationships.
I received an advance copy of this book so grateful thanks to the publishers and Netgalley. My review is entirely voluntary.
I received an advance copy of this book so grateful thanks to the publishers and Netgalley. My review is entirely voluntary.
medium-paced
I was definitely drawn to this book based off the title, an experience that I could absolutely relate to. I went into this thinking we would get insight into the author’s tumultuous relationship between her and her parents with food at the center of it.
There were glimpses of those moments, particularly towards the latter half of the memoir when she mentions more of her interactions with her parents during a period of transition in her life. However, it seems as though her family existed more as side characters in this memoir than the focus, leaving me with little insight into who her parents are and how she was or wasn’t able to connect with them.
My biggest issue is that she mentions several times that she was estranged from her parents for 13 years, but never divulges why this was the case and how this was resolved or unresolved. This memoir left me wanting more and I’m left disappointed given its banger title.
If you are looking for a book that explores romantic and familiar relationships during the pandemic, this one’s for you. The story itself jumps back and forth in time, with no clear linear path, but the narrative works with Candice Chung’s style of writing.
Thank you to NetGalley and Elliot & Thompson for this ARC. All opinions are my own.
There were glimpses of those moments, particularly towards the latter half of the memoir when she mentions more of her interactions with her parents during a period of transition in her life. However, it seems as though her family existed more as side characters in this memoir than the focus, leaving me with little insight into who her parents are and how she was or wasn’t able to connect with them.
My biggest issue is that she mentions several times that she was estranged from her parents for 13 years, but never divulges why this was the case and how this was resolved or unresolved. This memoir left me wanting more and I’m left disappointed given its banger title.
If you are looking for a book that explores romantic and familiar relationships during the pandemic, this one’s for you. The story itself jumps back and forth in time, with no clear linear path, but the narrative works with Candice Chung’s style of writing.
Thank you to NetGalley and Elliot & Thompson for this ARC. All opinions are my own.
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You is a multi-faceted story of love, family, identity, culture and belonging, all through the lens of food. What I loved most about this book was how I kept forgetting this was a memoir and not a literary fiction novel. It was so beautifully and considerately written with a clear narrative woven through anecdotes and vignettes into the author’s life. Candice Chung is honest and reflective, able to find nuance and connections in even the small and seemingly mundane that tie into the greater themes of her story.
While I expected from the title and blurb for this to be focused almost entirely on the author’s relationship with her parents, it instead follows multiple different relationships, both romantic and familial. The main ones are those with her estranged parents, and the breakdown of her long-term romantic relationship with her partner. The story is not linear or straightforward, Candice Chung jumps between time and thoughts which might be a little unsettling or hard to follow for some readers, but I loved how the narrative wove together, making me as the reader connect some of the dots and reflect myself.
I would love to read anything else she publishes, whether that is nonfiction or fiction, both of which I feel she has and would excel at. I implore anyone with an interest in any of the topics listed above (love, family, identity, culture, belonging) and/or food to read this book.
Thank you to NetGalley and Thomas Nelson for an ARC of book! This was an honest review of my read of this ARC.
While I expected from the title and blurb for this to be focused almost entirely on the author’s relationship with her parents, it instead follows multiple different relationships, both romantic and familial. The main ones are those with her estranged parents, and the breakdown of her long-term romantic relationship with her partner. The story is not linear or straightforward, Candice Chung jumps between time and thoughts which might be a little unsettling or hard to follow for some readers, but I loved how the narrative wove together, making me as the reader connect some of the dots and reflect myself.
I would love to read anything else she publishes, whether that is nonfiction or fiction, both of which I feel she has and would excel at. I implore anyone with an interest in any of the topics listed above (love, family, identity, culture, belonging) and/or food to read this book.
Thank you to NetGalley and Thomas Nelson for an ARC of book! This was an honest review of my read of this ARC.
challenging
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
sad
medium-paced
I’ve been sidetracked with Asian April and have been prioritising NetGalley requests over my Asian picks, but this is both a NetGalley request and one of my Asian picks, putting me right back on track.
I’m just back from 2 weeks in Japan and didn’t have as much reading time as I usually do, as I was busy exploring, (so warning for the incoming Japan content) but I finished this just before I left and I really enjoyed the concept/message.
It’s autobiographical in nature, but doesn’t offer too much insight into the author’s life and that’s the point or premise of Chung’s story/ upbringing within an Asian household. They don’t talk about the big issues or big questions in life, they revert to what they know and what they’re comfortable with, like instead of how are you managing moving to a new city? It’s where do you buy your rice? She jokes about her parent’s photo album that once held pictures of her and her sister has now been replaced by memorable meals.
She shares how this upbringing has moulded and formed her, how she referred to her partner as the geographer, who remains nameless and how her love story formed a different turn of events when it became expedited as a marriage for visa purposes. I’m not sure if it’s me just overthinking that the loveless life (or rather the non atypical loving family) she was born with leaked into her marriage of circumstance, but that just may be me going too far!
Thank you so much NetGalley and Elliott & Thompson for this early release copy. It’s out on 25th April and definitely recommend
emotional
reflective
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.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Pandemic/Epidemic
I read an early arc of this book via Netgalley.
I know you should never judge a book by its cover, but I did, and given the book's name, I was let down. While the book was well written, I expected it to focus more on her relationship with her parents than on her romantic life. While I enjoyed learning about her relationship with her parents, I preferred to read more about that.
I know you should never judge a book by its cover, but I did, and given the book's name, I was let down. While the book was well written, I expected it to focus more on her relationship with her parents than on her romantic life. While I enjoyed learning about her relationship with her parents, I preferred to read more about that.