Antoni Porowski explores how food can tell you about your heritage

Yahoo

21-02-2025

Antoni Porowski believes in the importance of storytelling through culinary traditions. The child of Polish parents who immigrated to Montréal, he 'felt Polish enough' until the family moved to West Virginia and he began high school. Wanting to hang out with the cool kids, he started to notice how he stood out, like bringing cabbage to school for lunch and correcting people who had trouble pronouncing his name.
'When I decided I wanted to pursue acting, I told my dad that I wanted to change my last name to something that sounded a little more American,' says the author, Queer Eye star, and World Food Programme Goodwill Ambassador. 'My dad asked, 'Then how will anyone know you're Polish?' I didn't get it at the time, but I'm glad I didn't go down that road.' He still loves the Polish food he was raised on—like sorrel soup, hunter stew, pierogis, and cabbage rolls—and it remains a constant touchstone in his family.
Porowski's belief that food can tell a person about who they are has inspired his new show, No Taste Like Home, which dives into the heritage of six celebrity guests. On journeys toward cultural and personal discovery, Porowski travels with Awkwafina, Henry Golding, James Marsden, Florence Pugh, Issa Rae, and Justin Theroux to South Korea, Malaysian Borneo, Germany, the United Kingdom, Senegal, and Italy. Through sharing family stories and connections with food, the docuseries examines each person's rich heritage through their ancestors' culinary traditions.
(Related: How to make perfect pierogi, Poland's famous dumplings.)
'We have a responsibility as humans to make sure we tell stories around our family's beloved dishes,' he says. 'When you know where you came from, it helps give you a foundation for moving forward on your own path.'
We connected with Porowski in San Francisco. He talked about the show, shared how the experiences have changed him, and looked at his own cultural questions about his family's food traditions.
There's something about visibility when you are among the culture from which you've descended, even if you've had only a small connection to that culture. What makes food the key to unlocking memories and the motive to dive in deeper?
For me, it's an easy vehicle because food is so deeply emotional. It provides us with a sense of comfort. I was raised in a house where we weren't really good at communicating our feelings, and some of the most heartwarming moments (and also some of the most painful ones) took place around the dinner table. If I didn't have Polish food when I was growing up, I would have tried to assimilate more into American culture. But the food is what kept me close to my heritage.
When I visited South Korea with Nora (Awkwafina), there was a moment when things clicked for her. She smelled kelp as it was hydrating and sesame oil heating up and beef hitting the pan while making miyeokguk, a kelp soup that's traditionally a post-childbirth dish. She realized it was a smell she remembered from the time her mother was ill. Nora cried, and everyone on the set just teared up.
(Related: Everything you need to know about bibimbap, Korea's famous rice dish.)
What aspects of research were challenging in putting together the individual family stories?
We had an entire genealogy team, and it took months of research to get the details of everyone's family story. In some of the destinations, like Germany, Italy, and England, many of the documents are public domain, and there's an infrastructure to access that information. But in Senegal or Borneo, much of the details are oral history. Our research team had to speak with village elders and confirm that the stories are factually accurate. We've been careful to clarify when we're less than 100 percent sure of any detail.
How have the experiences in these six episodes changed you?
I feel like we don't have enough conversations about our generational gifts. Look at Issa, a strong, independent woman who empowers women from the shows she produces to the companies in which she invests. It was impressive to learn that there were so many incredible women in her family. Justin is so passionate about his rescue pit bull and pet adoption, and learning of his generational connection to adoption was an emotional moment. It was also powerful to see Florence and her family's passion for food after learning that there was a period of time that her ancestors really struggled.
I describe my own connection to cuisine as a deep obsession, but I'm sure there's a reason why my family is so connected with food. Both of my grandfathers were in concentration camps. As a child, I heard the stories about not wasting anything on your plate.
If you had an episode of No Taste Like Home dedicated to your cultural background, what would you want to include?
I'd like to explore the significance of dishes that are so strong in my memory. I feel that there's power and importance behind something, but I don't know what it is. On Christmas Eve, we had uszka, dumplings known as 'little ears' for their shape. The journey for making that dish began in the summer months when we'd go foraging for the mushrooms that we'd preserve and then use as filling for the dumplings. But one of them would be filled with peppercorns. If you got that one, as unpleasant as it would be taste-wise, it would be a sign of good luck for the coming year.
My mother would only allow my middle sister to help her make this dish by hand, but I would watch. There was a lot of intensity because my mother was extremely focused and wouldn't talk. I'm just struck by how much energy, time, effort, care, precision, and love went into it, but I don't really know much about it.
In a time when distractions and divisions inhibit our ability to see each other's humanity, what do you hope viewers take away from this series by watching others discover ancestral traditions that tell them something about who they are?
I think we act in certain ways when we're afraid of something. When I talk with someone, I may not agree with their views, but at the end of our time together, I can sort of understand where they're coming from. The more we're exposed to diversity—different people, different places, different cultures—the less scary the world becomes. You actually realize that we have more similarities than differences, which is something I said in the first season of Queer Eye. You only understand what we have in common once you truly listen to what other people have to say.
Jill K. Robinson is a San Francisco-based travel and adventure writer. Follow her on Bluesky.