I wept in the grocery store myself after this. On food, mothers, and losing both.

Crying in H Mart
Every time I remember that my mother is dead, it feels like I'm colliding with a wall that won't give.
Why read it
Standing in a Korean grocery store, a young musician breaks down among the banchan and dried anchovies, because the aisles are haunted by her late mother and the only language of love they truly shared was food.
Zauner's memoir traces her fraught, tender bond with her Korean immigrant mother, her mother's terminal cancer, and the grief that followed, told through the meals that connected them. It is a raw, sensory meditation on identity, mother-daughter love, and finding your way back to a heritage through cooking.
Michelle Zauner, known as the musician Japanese Breakfast, expanded a 2018 New Yorker essay into this 2021 memoir. It spent more than a year on the New York Times bestseller list and is being adapted into a film.
- 01
Food as love
The takeaway is how a mother and daughter expressed devotion through Korean cooking when words failed.
- 02
Grief in the aisles
H Mart becomes a place where loss and memory ambush the author among familiar ingredients.
- 03
Reclaiming heritage
Learning to cook her mother's dishes becomes a way to hold onto her Korean identity.
- 04
A complicated bond
The memoir refuses to sentimentalize a love that was fierce, critical, and imperfect.
Zauner learning to make kimchi and other Korean dishes from online videos to feel close to her mother.
The painful, intimate months of caring for her mother through cancer treatment.


