Frankie Gaw is a gay, first-generation Taiwanese American culinary innovator, writer, photographer, designer, Instagram sensation and award winning author.
An only child, he is the son of immigrant parents who emigrated for college in 1985 from their native Taiwan to the city of Plano, Texas, where Gaw was born. The family soon moved to suburban Cincinnati, Ohio.
Circumscribed by white Anglo-Saxon America, his parents — Chinto “Ben” and Jie-Pay “Peggy” Gaw made every effort to assimilate — honing their English with episodes of Wheel of Fortune, integrating home-made meals with spurious Land of Opportunity dishes like spaghetti bolognese with soy-glazed salmon, and consuming copious takeouts from fast food McDonalds and casual dining Olive Garden chains.
Growing up, Gaw had no Asian friends; in a school of 1,000 students only two were of his ethnic origin. In his effort to blend in he dismissed his Asian heritage and avoided exploring it. “Growing up in the Midwest I never felt Asian enough. But then, being with my Asian family, I didn’t feel American enough.”
After graduating from Pittsburgh’s Carnegie Mellon University he moved to San Francisco, worked at Facebook, Airbnb and various startups. There, Gaw began to grapple with his cultural and sexual identities. Shortly, after the death of his father, he revealed to his mother that he was gay, a secret he had failed to disclose. He was caught off guard by her unanticipated response. His father had known he was gay since he was 5 years old, and at her workplace she had been part of an LGBTQ+ group for years. “She knew,” Gaw said, “I was going to come out at some point (but) she was just waiting” for him to confront his reality on his own timeline.
It was his successful food blog and Instagram that ultimately led to his debut cookbook, First Generation. In 2018, Gaw posted an image of his recipe for cinnamon toast crunch butter mochi, describing how the dish satiated “childhood cravings for Asian desserts and his Midwestern nostalgia” for what he considered the “best cereal ever created.” He shared experiments with sweet potato and onion steamed buns, pasta tossed with dashi broth, matcha flavored Twinkies and strawberry lychee Pop-Tarts, two-tone dumplings dyed with vegetable juice using his family’s technique and his own creative inventions.
Instagrammers, noting his posted food photos, promptly requested his recipes, motivating Gaw to launch a blog, Little Fat Boy a family endearment stemming from when he had been a chubby youngster who loved to eat. In 2019, Little Fat Boy was named Blog of the Year by Saveur Magazine, and nominated for a Webby and the IACP’s (International Association of Culinary Professionals) Individual Food Blog Award. It was followed rapidly by a number of cookbook offers. And the rest, so-to-speak, is “HIS-tory.”
That same year he moved to Seattle with his partner Scott, signed an agent and spent the next two years writing his book, First Generation, released in late 2022. In his introduction, a portent of things to come, he wrote: “I am Taiwanese American, but only been to Taiwan twice.” He expounds on his love of bologna sandwiches, Olive Garden bread sticks and Cracker Barrel buttered corn bread. “And yet,” he continued, “I still get harassed (and told) to ‘Go back to your own country.’ So where do I belong?”
A plaintive plea, one that raises both familiar and bitter memories for many Asian Americans who struggle under similar circumstances, it echoes the complaints of numerous immigrant groups. The U.S. currently has 37 ancestry groups with a population of over one million individuals. As of 2022, the estimated number of Asian Americans in the U.S. was 24.7 million people, a population that has more than likely increased significantly since then.
Gaw’s book, a journey of self-discovery, is an attempt to understand his personal identity — a way of determining what it means to be Asian American — to ferret out “belonging.” Through edible meals, First Generation examines the Asian American immigrant experience — third generation millennials trapped between two cultures, conflicted and struggling to resolve their identity crises.
The author has been labeled one of the most original voices writing in food today; his recipes described as “American classics with an Asian flavor.” The humorous Gaw, approaching middle-age with zeal, characterizes his semi-extemporaneous cookbook with a tongue-in-“cheeky” approach, portraying it as “Nostalgic recipes that will make your tummy full and my ancestors scream.”
His recipes are a compendium of delicious, modern, culinary ad-libs gone wild. Packed with Taiwan-American recipes such as lop cheung (Chinese sausage) corn dogs, Coca Cola soy glazed ribs, and Lion’s Head big macs, woven within a provocative, introspective memoir of growing up bi-national in a multi-racial America. “I wanted to create something I hadn’t really seen in cookbooks, which was to have an American cookbook celebrate an Asian American family.” In doing so, he shines a glaringly bright spotlight on the ongoing struggles of many bi-Americans.
Most recipes are introduced with a paragraph-long story that relays how they were created. Each of the seven chapters is introduced with profoundly personal memories and essays followed by several recipes, meshing foods of the Midwest with dishes from his Taiwanese grandmothers.
1. An American Pantry covers sauces, condiments & stocks
2. Small Eats includes Braised Peanuts, Honey-Glazed Popcorn Chicken, Soft-boiled Tea Eggs, Cashew Caesar Salad
3. Bing incorporates flat bread and pancakes
4. Noodles and Rice
5. Dumplings & Bao
6. Family Style Meals encompasses items such as hot pot and whole steamed fish
7. Bake Sale contains Cap‘n Crunch & Pecan Shortbread Cookies, Reese’s Puffs Brownies, Oolong Milk Tea and Almond Rice-Krispy Treats
Gorgeous color photos enhance recipes with step-by-step stunning photographic techniques and detailed hand-drawn illustrations. A highly rated debut work, the accolades say it all: “One of The Ten Best Cookbooks of The Year” (San Francisco Chronicle); “One of The Best Cookbooks of The Year” (Los Angeles Times and Epicurious); “27 Best Cookbooks of 2022” (Bon Appétit).
Seven pertinent questions reviewers often ask when appraising a cookbook: Is it useful? Is it thoughtful? Is it new? Does it tell a story? Is it well-designed? Is it focused? Along with his multiple award-winning honors that lead to the publication of Next Generation, Gaw’s book merits a resounding “YES” to each categorical assessment. I look forward to his next endeavor in the world of edible enjoyment.
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