
Will Cooking Classes Ever Be the Same?
The inevitable move to online platforms has taken some of the sensory joys out of cookery classes, but it’s replaced them with a sense of democracy, serendipity, and the occasional bear in the background. “I see that you’re having trouble getting the tofu out of the container,” a moderator teases from a corner of galle…
“We’ve had people [take the class] from Alaska, and all of a sudden, there’s a bear that walks behind them, and everyone stops and watches.”
I’m watching a recording of the Lunar Banquet for Uncle Vicha, a cook-along stream that took place over Zoom one Monday night in late February. Leading a remote audience of more than 100 home cooks, eight New York City chefs (cleared to gather) took turns cookery from Essex Pearl, a kitchen below Essex Market on Manhattan’s Lower East Side.
Organized by #EnoughIsEnough , an anti-racist initiative by Asian American food businesses in New York City. Hosted by the cooking-class-meets-fundraising platform Kitchen Rodeo , the event helped raise $76,737 for underserved communities of color in honor of Vicha Ratanapakdee , an 84-year-old Thai man who was fatally assaulted in January in San Francisco. In another screen, Eric Sze (chef-owner of 886 in the East Village) asked where the stove’s pilot light was, while Lucas Sin ( chef at Junzi Kitchen ) explained tofu blanching to the group.
The past year has seen a surge in live online preparation content, much of it streamed over Zoom, YouTube, or Instagram. Closing the gap even further, some got under way sharing curated element boxes to bring what Mavis-Jay Sanders of Food Plus People calls a sense of “shared tangibility.” The sheer volume of offerings has made hanging out over a meal more accessible to people who are avoiding alcohol or who have food allergies, disabilities, or caretaking responsibilities.
The sheer volume of offerings has made hanging out over a meal more accessible to people who are avoiding alcohol or who have food allergies, disabilities, or caretaking responsibilities. And many home cooks are more comfortable than ever before with logging onto a Zoom call with strangers. “It’s a true testament to food encompassing everything,” states Moonlynn Tsai, a chef who has taught classes with Kitchen Rodeo.
In early 2020, responding to anti-Asian racism, Tsai cofounded Heart of Dinner , which provides food security to members of the Asian immigrant community in New York City, with her partner, Yin Chang, and is an #EnoughIsEnough organizer. “It’s the conversation, it’s the heart behind it.” Obviously, there is a lot that doesn’t work well over Zoom. She explains the Pantry has “kind of fallen in love” with the online format, “because it has extended our reach to people who are not local.” The Pantry offers the same number of online classes that it offered in person before the pandemic—a hectic two each day of the week—and, if anything, classes have kicked off to sell out faster, explains Riha.
And we’ll get through it right now.’” The draw of community was palpable at the Lunar Banquet for Uncle Vicha. To people like me, I suspect that the appeal of online cookery classes that teach participants how to make a beloved childhood dish, like oden or curry don, may outlast these doom-and-Zoom times, since they offer a new space for distanced diaspora communities to gather around food.
That was an unexpected side effect for Tsai, when she taught a group of students to make Hakka stir-fry over at Kitchen Rodeo. “It’s a dish that my grandma made for me a lot when I would visit her,” she explains. When she transitioned her workshops to Zoom, she got under way adding Chinese cookery classes to her usual Picklé fermentation lineup. “I’ve been having these conversations with students about food memories and food prepared by generations before us,” states Wang. “In a lot of Asian families, you have to ask for that method before it’s too late. Sometimes you don’t have the opportunity.” The past year has taught us to cherish surprise, serendipity, specialness—the sense that what is happening now will not happen again.
Already, the cookery class format is evolving, making more room for these conversations, with highly choreographed “cook-along” experiences like Bollywood Kitchen , a virtual performance by the cookbook author and filmmaker Sri Rao, and Studio ATAO’s “ Cook the Menu ,” a remote take on the popular Asian in America VR exhibition and multicourse dinner party series led by chef Jenny Dorsey. The past year has taught us to cherish surprise, serendipity, specialness—the sense that what is happening now will not happen again.
Still, it’s likely that the variety of online, real-time learning options that have developed for home cooks are here to stay. I, for one, hope that they will resist the urge to polish and prerecord, and instead lean into what Tsai calls “the beauty [of] the mess-ups.” Those who are looking for connection as well as instruction may begin to migrate from Zoom to other, even more interactive, chattier platforms, like Patreon and its Discord messaging app. With DEMI , a subscription service that connects food professionals with online audiences through group texts hosted on WeChat, Pickowicz has moderated what she calls a “Never-Ending Salon” chat for home bakers and pastry chefs of all levels.
Access to the WeChat costs $10 a month, and in return, members get to text directly with Pickowicz and one another about all things pastry. “I like that it removes the wall of teacher versus student,” she explains.
- Who: Kitchen Rodeo · New York City
- Money: $76,737 · $25,000. · $10



