No One Owns Flavor: Michelle Tsu of Homiah | AAPI Heritage Month
intro & questions by Tina Alhani, HHM Chief of Staff
answers by Michelle Tsu, Homiah CEO
When I asked our AAPI Creators if they wanted to contribute to a blog post on the HHM website, Michelle Tsu, Founder & CEO of Homiah, suggested discussing Homiah's role in the Momofuku debacle years ago. This was all over food news when it happened- I immediately said yes. Here's her story.
For people who might not know the background, what was the Momofuku Chili Crunch controversy? How would you describe that from your perspective?
In March 2024, Homiah received a cease-and-desist letter from Momofuku over our use of the word “Chili Crunch” in our product. Around the same period, Momofuku was also pursuing trademark protection around “chili crunch” and “chile crunch,” and other food brands I got in touch with had received similar letters.
“Chili crunch” describes a category of condiment that exists across many Asian food traditions whether Chinese, Korean or Malaysian. It is not something one company invented. So when a larger, well-funded brand appeared to claim ownership over language that many communities and small makers felt belonged to a broader culinary heritage, it touched a nerve.
I was personally shocked at the time because Homiah’s Sambal Chili Crunch is deeply personal. It is based on a family recipe from my Granny Nonie and rooted in generations of Nyonya heritage in Penang, Malaysia.
From my perspective, it became a conversation about power and the intersection with culture and heritage. Who gets to name a food? Who gets to profit from it? And what happens when a cultural food becomes commercially valuable in America?
You were one of the brands speaking up early. What made you decide to step into that moment publicly?
As a small founder, it is intimidating to speak up to a much bigger brand and when there is a power imbalance involved. But the issue mattered because it affected other small businesses, many of them Asian-founded, and some of whom shared that they were afraid to push back, and because it raised a larger question about who gets access to culturally rooted language in food.
There was a lot of conversation around ownership vs. cultural origin. How do you personally draw that line when it comes to food?
For me, the line is about humility and credit. Are you acknowledging where the food comes from? Are you making space for the people and communities who shaped it? Are you using your platform to broaden appreciation, or are you narrowing access? No one owns flavor.
Do you think the conversation actually led to more awareness of chili crunch as a category, or did it get lost in the noise?
I think the moment clarified something for the Asian food community and rallied us together. Homiah, and fellow AAPI business and makers, are not just selling sauces. We are telling a story about our food, family recipes, heritage, memory, and the joy of sharing that food with more people. Respect matters. The context matters.
Did it shift how you think about your role not just as a founder, but as someone representing a culture through food?
To be honest, for me, it just encouraged me to stay true to the original mission of founding the company: While no one founder can represent an entire culture, I feel a responsibility to represent my own family’s story honestly and to help create space to celebrate these nuances. Homiah means “good life” and it is about honoring the roots of the food and its role in community and the “good life”. It is also about making this accessible to people who may be discovering these flavors for the first time.
What does it look like to do this right going forward, whether you’re a small brand or a big one?
The best version of this is not gatekeeping. It is abundance. More founders, more stories, more regional specificity, more education, and more room for consumers to understand the richness behind the food.
If someone is discovering chili crunch for the first time today, what do you hope they understand beyond just the flavor?
The flavor is what pulls you in — the heat, the crunch, the garlic, the umami. But behind that is a much bigger story about culture, creativity, and belonging. And I hope people stay curious: try different versions, learn where they come from, support the small makers and the world behind that spoonful!
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