Melissa King has spent a lifetime refining her voice through food.
Born and raised in Southern California to parents from Hong Kong, trained in French technique, and seasoned in Michelin-starred kitchens, King has built a career by blending precision with play. Her new book, Cook Like a King, is both a personal narrative and a master class—a roadmap for home cooks who want to layer flavors, bridge cultures, and cook with confidence.
The book is rooted in the ingredients and rhythms of California, informed by King’s upbringing and elevated by years spent in the highest echelons of fine dining. She writes as both a chef and a friend in the kitchen, encouraging readers to stock their pantries thoughtfully, pay attention to the little details, and not be afraid to improvise. Each recipe is filled with techniques—like frying tortillas to shatteringly crisp perfection or blooming ginger and scallions with smoking-hot oil—that build a cook’s instincts dish by dish.
King’s story runs through every page. She describes making jook in a rice cooker for her parents when they were sick, folding dumplings with her grandmother, discovering French sauces at culinary school, and linking those traditions with California’s seasonal abundance. She’s equally at home simmering bone broth with black Silkie chicken or drizzling Agrumato lemon oil over a perfect crudo. The result is a book that feels expansive yet intimate—part memoir, part instruction manual, part dinner party inspiration.
And then there are the recipes. Her tuna tostadas with avocado, ginger, and scallion channel Mexico City cool, Hawaiian brightness, and Cantonese punch into one crisp bite. Her roasted kabocha with five-spice and hot honey takes a humble winter squash and turns it into a showstopper. These dishes—and dozens more—capture King’s singular talent: using food to build bridges, spark joy, and make a table come alive.
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If you ask me, everyone needs a solid roasted winter squash recipe in their repertoire, and this one is low-effort with big flavor. Kabocha squash (also called Japanese pumpkin) is a variety known for its fluffy, tender interior, chestnut-like flavor, and exceptional sweetness. Once the tough outer skin is cooked, it’s completely edible. The warm notes of Chinese five-spice complement the squash’s natural sweetness. Apple cider vinegar brings a little brightness, and a good drizzle of my hot honey contributes sweet heat.
Once you learn how to make hot honey yourself, you might never buy another bottle. My no-mess method infuses honey with the distinctive flavor of Sichuan chile flakes. Try it on anything that could use a sweet, spicy kick, like roasted kabocha, fried chicken, pork katsu, or your favorite slice of pizza.
I’m such a big fan of dips, and nothing tops a rich, velvety labneh. Common in Middle Eastern cooking, it’s essentially tangy yogurt that’s been drained until it’s super thick. It’s often served with a drizzle of good olive oil and maybe a sprinkle of zaatar or sumac. During a Pride collaboration with my friend Edy Massih of the fantastic Lebanese mezze bar in Brooklyn called Edy’s Grocer, I thought the creamy, cooling dip would play well with a generous drizzle of my lip-tingling chili crisp, as well as some crispy fried shallots and toasted sesame seeds. The combination of tang, textures, and heat was a huge hit, and it’s a breeze to make for any get-together, whether you buy labneh or make it yourself from Greek yogurt.
The perfect dinner party snack, this recipe is inspired by the tostadas de atún at the effortlessly cool Contramar, a restaurant in Mexico City. There, crunchy fried corn tortillas are topped with slices of pristine raw tuna, avocado, chipotle mayonnaise, and crispy leeks. In my rendition, tuna and avocado are drizzled with chili crisp for richness and heat. I also top it with ginger-scallion sauce, which I loved on a Hawaiian ahi poke I had on Oahu; it adds an unexpected dimension that at first bite reveals it’s a natural fit.
