Edward Lee’s career defies easy categorisation. A champion on Iron Chef America, a guest chef at White House state dinners and a star of Netflix’s Culinary Class Wars, he’s built a career that spans a variety of roles. As chef-owner of 610 Magnolia and Nami Modern Korean Steakhouse in Louisville, Kentucky, and, most recently, Shia, a non-profit fine-dining restaurant in Washington DC, Lee merges culinary innovation with cultural storytelling. He’s a James Beard Award-winning author, with books—Smoke & Pickles, Buttermilk Graffiti and Bourbon Land—that explore the connections between food, identity and heritage, underscoring his dual talents as a chef and storyteller.
Lee was born and raised in Brooklyn to Korean immigrant parents, and had a childhood steeped in the traditions of a homeland he had never seen. “My parents moved here in 1971 and I was born in 1972,” he says. “As an immigrant family, you lose so much when you leave your homeland— language, rituals, history. But the one thing we held onto was food.”
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Edward Lee on the cover of Tatler Hong Kong’s March 2025 issue (outfit: Dolce & Gabbana)
Food was the anchor in the Lee household, a daily ritual of Korean home cooking that tied Edward to his roots. His parents, alongside his grandmother, who lived with the family, played central roles in this preservation. “I didn’t grow up in Korea and only visited for the first time when I was 16 but, through food, I had a Korean upbringing,” he says. “It gave me a foundation to understand Asian flavours in a natural way. I’m so grateful for that.”
His fascination with food began early. “I don’t remember a time when I didn’t want to cook,” he says. “Other kids were collecting baseball cards or comic books. I’d go to laundromats with my mum where people would leave magazines, and I would go through them and collect all the food magazines to bring home. I read them cover to cover.”
For Lee, growing up in America also meant navigating a space between cultures, a challenge he credits with shaping his character. “In some ways, that was a very difficult upbringing but I don’t think I could be the chef I am today without that identity struggle,” he reflects. “Now, I use Korean flavours but I don’t cook traditional Korean food. It’s playful, personal and tells my story in a way words never could.”
Lee’s early career began in New York, where he opened his first restaurant. “I opened a restaurant there in 1998 but after 9/11, I lost it,” he says. “It hit me very hard. Before jumping into another restaurant, I realised I wanted to see more of America.” This introspection led him on a road trip across the United States, with one of the stops being the Kentucky Derby. “I fell in love with the culture,” he says. What was meant to be a brief stint in Louisville turned into two decades of growth and discovery. “It was a very important part of my life. I met my wife and I found my calling there. It was a place where I could develop quietly, without the intense scrutiny of a big city. I found my voice there. It’s where I learnt that hospitality is about relationships, not just transactions.”
Edward Lee wears Loro Piana
The years in Louisville became a testing ground for his evolving style. It was at Nami Korean Steakhouse that Lee began to explore traditional Korean recipes for the first time. “My whole life, I’d cooked a fusion kind of cuisine,” he recalls. “It was the first time I was cooking Korean food with some pretty traditional recipes, and I didn’t realise how much I enjoyed doing that.” This deeper engagement with his heritage laid the groundwork for his later ventures.
When his daughter Arden was born, Lee began reflecting on what he wanted to pass onto her. “It made me think about what it means to be Korean in America,” he explains. Trips back to Korea followed, where he delved into traditional recipes and techniques.
Edward Lee in Giorgio Armani
These reflections culminated in the opening of Shia. Part of The Lee Initiative—a non-profit organisation Lee co-founded to promote equity and sustainability in the restaurant industry—Shia challenges the conventions of fine dining. The restaurant operates with sustainable practices, including eliminating single-use plastics, relying entirely on electric cooking and cutting waste by half. “Luxury and responsibility don’t have to be mutually exclusive,” Lee explains. “We can create incredible dining experiences while giving back to the community.” Shia also reflects Lee’s evolving relationship with his heritage. “It’s Korean, but not quite Korean,” he says. “It’s about ancient flavours presented in a modern way.”
His reach expanded further with television. Culinary Class Wars, which was made in South Korea and aired in 2024, offered Lee the opportunity to showcase his unique approach on an international stage. “I was the only foreigner on the show,” he says. “At first, the isolation was difficult but it became a strength. I was able to focus entirely on my story and my food.” Despite his limited fluency in Korean, Lee’s talent saw him excel in the competition, ultimately finishing as runner-up. His creativity and ability to wear his heart on his sleeve endeared him to viewers, earning him a loyal following.
The tofu challenge became a standout moment during the show, where contestants were surrounded by enormous slabs of tofu, a seemingly uninspiring ingredient at first glance. The challenge required chefs to create a new tofu-based dish every 30 minutes, with eliminations after each round. Amid the chaos, Lee’s composure and creativity shone through. With such a tight schedule, “if you overthink it, you doom yourself. I told myself to trust my experience and instincts—and by the end, I was actually having fun. I could’ve kept going. If we had three more rounds, I would have had three more recipes. I was on autopilot.”
Lee also found himself reflecting on his identity in unexpected ways. “At first, it was just a competition,” he says. “But as I progressed, it became more personal. I thought, ‘If I’m going to be here, let’s make it really meaningful.’ That’s when I decided to cook from the heart, to tell my story through my food.” Whether writing, cooking or competing, Lee approaches his craft with an artist’s sensibility. “To me, the best art, whether it’s food or a painting, makes you look at the world differently. When I wake up, I see the world through the prism of food,” he says. “Everything is a flavour. But I’m not a radical artist; you know, I’m no Jackson Pollock. To me, it’s about harmony and balance.”
Edward Lee wears Brunello Cucinelli
On what keeps his creative spark alive, Lee says, “I love taking walks through nature; and watching my daughter connect with animals— whether at a farm, an aquarium or during her horse lessons—makes me see the world differently. The patterns on a horse’s coat, the way nature creates perfect, unique designs—it all inspires me to mimic that beauty in my cooking, making dishes that feel authentic rather than artificial.”
Lee’s career has been defined by constant reinvention. “I can’t sit still,” he admits. “I love writing because it’s quiet and reflective. I love the buzz of a busy restaurant. And I love TV for its high-pressure excitement. Each one plays a role in a larger picture of who I am. This is my normal. This is how I function, and I love it.”
Edward Lee in Brunello Cucinelli outfit
For aspiring chefs, Lee offers a single piece of advice: patience. “Everyone wants instant success but this is a long career. You have to enjoy the process and take the time to do things right,” he says. “If you peak in your 20s, then what? This is a profession that rewards the long game.”
As he looks to the future, Lee says he wants to “keep pushing the envelope, sharing new perspectives and, through innovation, reach something authentic. We know what Korean food has been for the last 2,000 years. What can it become in the next 20? That’s a question I want to help answer.”
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