Chef Arnold Myint reflects on family, fame, and the future
He speaks about his cookbook "Family Thai," his parents’ legacy, growing up queer in the South, and redefining Thai cuisine in Nashville
Chef Arnold Myint and his debut cookbook Family Thai.
Thien Phan
Words by Daniel Anderson
Chef Arnold Myint’s culinary journey is as vibrant and unexpected as the flavors he’s spent a lifetime mastering. Born and raised in Nashville, Tennessee, he grew up in the iconic International Market, the city’s first Thai restaurant, founded by his parents Win and Patti. From competitive figure skating to performing as the drag persona Suzy Wong, Myint’s eclectic background has always blended discipline with daring creativity.
After nearly 45 years, Win and Patti Myint closed the original International Market & Restaurant in July 2019. Two years later, their son Arnold would carry the legacy forward, helming International Market 2.0 (IM2), the next-generation incarnation of the family’s legendary restaurant. Under his leadership, IM2 has received official Thai cuisine certification from the Royal Thai Government and Ministry of Commerce, making it the first Nashville restaurant to earn the seal of approval. The restaurant was a James Beard Foundation Semi-Finalist in 2024 and, this year, was recognized in the MICHELIN Guide’s inaugural America South Recommended restaurants list. Known for his appearances on Top Chef and as a Food Network star, Myint also made history by defeating Iron Chef Alex Guarnaschelli on a Thai-themed episode of Alex vs. America, alongside Food Network chefs Jet Tila and Sugar Singakmee of LA’s famed Jitlada. With his new cookbook, Family Thai: Bringing the Flavors of Thailand Home, he honors his Nashville roots while sharing decades of expertise with home cooks eager to bring authentic Thai flavors into their own kitchens.
Myint spoke with JoySauce over the phone while driving from Tennessee to Georgia for his book tour, sharing stories of his upbringing and how he’s finding his own voice within his family’s history.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Daniel Anderson: Hi chef! I’m excited to talk about your cookbook. How long has it been in development, and what’s the story behind it?
Arnold Myint: I had the idea about seven years ago. Five years ago I started pursuing it seriously, and then about three years ago I got the deal and things really started moving. So it’s been a long-time dream, and once I had an agent and a publisher, the real work began three years back.
DA: With this book being part homage to your mother’s recipes, how did you approach translating those to the cookbook? I often find Asian families don’t write down recipes.
AM: Luckily for me, my mother, in her own way, was a celebrity. She never got to realize her celebrity, but she definitely filled the template of what a celebrity chef today would be. She wrote a small cookbook herself, a pamphlet she sold to customers at the restaurant for like $4. So I had that as a reference point. There’s a whole “Mom’s” section in my book.
But when I opened her pamphlet to transcribe, the recipes made zero sense. She had things like “one can coconut milk, one jar garlic,” and I’m like, “What does that mean?” Knowing we were in the restaurant, sometimes that meant a can, or “one spoon” meant…what spoon? So even with her ingredient list, I still had to cook from memory. “How would mom approach this?” And then make it relatable so people could recreate it. It took a while, but because she laid out so much, it wasn’t as daunting as you’d imagine.
DA: I have this later in my questions, but since you mentioned chef Alex Guarnaschelli, I watched you on Alex vs. America on Food Network. I’d love to know more about filming that special episode showcasing Thai cuisine.
AM: I can give you the behind-the-scenes story. The bigger picture is that I had a cookbook coming out at the same time. Julie, my agent, loves getting me out there. When this episode came up, the timing felt perfect, like it was written in the stars. But then I got nervous. I asked when the air date was—it was right around my book launch. In my mind, I was trying to establish myself as an authority on Thai cuisine: working with the Thai government, running a Thai restaurant, sharing my “Thainess” on social media. And yet, I thought, “What if I go on this very westernized game show and lose the week after my book comes out? What credibility would I have?”
I told myself I’d do any other type of cooking competition, but a Thai-specific one felt different—not because I lacked confidence, but because I didn’t know how the show was structured. I was scared. I didn’t want to lose. Then my agent said, “Then just don’t lose.” She reminded me that my crutch has always been a pantry not set up for success—but here, they were providing everything I needed to shine. Why would I think differently?
So I went in, dug deep, and leaned on all my references from the cookbook I’d just finished and my new seasonal restaurant menu. I was ready to cook hard. It was a little mind game with myself, but she was right: go win. This is what I do every day. No question mark about it. It’s Thai food, in my wheelhouse. And it worked, I guess. I won.
DA: You won both rounds and became the first-ever chef in the show’s history to knock Alex out of the competition after round one. How was that feeling and getting to defeat your mentor?
AM: A lot of these competition shows, you just don’t want to get kicked off first, period. And if I’m going to spend the day leaving my restaurant and my child to go to a competition, I want to make it worth it. I want to cook all the way through, win or lose. I want to be seen and get all the airtime I can. That was my mindset: don’t embarrass yourself. I also knew my team at home would be watching and thinking, “Oh my God, chef got kicked off—what the hell?” I didn’t want to have to answer to that, especially in something within my area of expertise.
Making it through the first round was great. Winning the first challenge was an ego boost, for sure. But beyond that, I thought about my mentor. She taught me well, and if I could play her game through her—she’s a master, a beast in the kitchen, and has won so many competitions—I hoped she’d be proud. Like, “I got you here.” She’s one of the reasons I was able to do it.
DA: I'd love to know a little more about what you mentioned earlier, the pathway of the pantry hasn’t always been set up for your success. Can you tell me more about growing up in Nashville as a queer Asian American in the South?
AM: My identity in Nashville. Luckily, I was raised in a very progressive Asian family. My dad was a scholar, and both of my parents were intellectuals. My dad was an educator at the university level, so the people we hung out with and the company we kept were very worldly, more philosophical than religious. That’s important to note when you think about the South and how people’s influences shape their treatment of others and the way they build community. I grew up in a very conservative, Christian-based world. My dad founded a Buddhist temple and helped mold the cultural identity of immigrants in Nashville—bringing people in, finding work for them, navigating government systems, and helping them find housing. He even bought an old church and turned it into a temple.
Within the walls of our restaurant, it was a safe haven for many people, including artists and the queer community. My mother especially supported the queer community during the height of the AIDS crisis. It was an unconditional place for everyone. My parents never influenced or pressured us to change; they were consistent in who they were and what they believed. I feel so lucky. I never had to “come out” because I was just embraced for who I was. My parents supported anything I wanted to do. I could skateboard, play with Barbie dolls with my guy friends in the alley, and no one flinched because of it. It was incredibly accepting.
Reflecting back, this book has a lot of memoir writing from my childhood. I wanted to be normal, just have a box of juice and some cheese, but I never got that. I was the only kid with mooncakes, fried rice, and egg rolls in my lunchbox. My birthday parties were at the restaurant, not Chuck E. Cheese. At the time, it was a little embarrassing, but looking back, it was fierce.
DA: That’s such an amazing background. In all of that, what was the first moment you really recalled wanting to pursue food professionally? And how did your parents respond when you said you wanted to get into hospitality?
AM: Well, I think we have to peel back some layers of my history before discussing my parents’ response. Looking back, their reaction was essentially, “Thank God he’s doing something legitimate.” Before this, I was a nationally ranked figure skater. By my early 20s, I was no longer competing at the national level but touring as a sort of punk-pop star on ice, spending nine months on the road in professional shows. I’d come back, party, go to clubs, and live a very flamboyant, unapologetically gay lifestyle, chasing fame, or at least thinking I was.
When I look back at my journals from that time, everything I documented on tour—menus, wines, meals—was food-centric. Beyond the parties and performances, my experiences were defined by what I ate in every country I visited.
So when it came time to pursue a new path in New York, I had to “trick” my parents a bit. My dad, being an educator, said he would support my schooling, so I enrolled in culinary school. I thought it would be easy. I already knew how to cook and it gave me a reason to stay in New York a few more years. But once I started, I fell in love. For the first time, I could combine the knowledge I’d gathered traveling through Europe with the ingredients I’d grown up with, elevating them in ways I never imagined. I realized there was a market for elevated Asian cuisine, and I decided to pursue it seriously. When I began to find success, my parents were relieved. They saw me settling down and channeling my energy into something that would secure my future.
DA: What was their reaction when you came back with professional training and started cooking differently?
AM: They loved it. They were artistic, stylish, and progressive, so they appreciated the creativity. And my dad, being a mathematician, loved the revenue. He’d say, “Look what you did when you came home.” It meant a lot.
DA: How did you find the balance? Both in the restaurant and the cookbook, between honoring tradition and using the more modern techniques you learned?
AM: I’m still finding that balance, but I understand it better now. A few years ago I received a James Beard nomination, and at first I questioned it. I felt I was simply cooking my mother’s food. But really, I’m cooking her food with the evolution she gave me access to. She taught herself everything; she gave me the tools to elevate it. International Market during the day is her food. At night, it’s the progression she would have wanted for me. I still hear her voice in everything.
DA: What do you hope your legacy will be? Both connected to and separate from your family’s legacy?
AM: The other day, I was flying with my sister to a MICHELIN ceremony. On the flight, she asked me, “Where do you see yourself in five years with the restaurant?” I didn’t give a straight answer, but I explained that I feel the restaurant still isn’t the full expression of who I am as a chef. I’m still compromising a bit—it honors the legacy of my parents’ International Market restaurant, established in 1975, while I explore my own voice. My identity shows up in the nuances of my dishes, but it’s not fully mine yet. Right now, my focus is on honoring family tradition and doing right by the community. The restaurant remains open because of the support and love of the community, who continue to celebrate my mother’s legacy seven years after her passing. As long as that continues, I want to keep doing this for them.
Reflecting personally on legacy feels strange. It's almost narcissistic. I have an inspiration board and a wishlist of goals, and honestly, there’s not much left unchecked. I’m content where I am. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life chasing or overextending. I want to be present, enjoying what I’ve built with my family, my child, my team, and the space we’ve created for teaching and mentoring. Earlier this year, a real estate company approached me about expanding my brand into multi-million-dollar casino and hotel projects. The money was tempting, but I realized I couldn’t take it on. Coming from parents who would sell one egg roll to buy another, taking on that kind of debt didn’t make sense.
If you had asked me that 10 years ago, I probably would have jumped on it, pulled my hair out, gone through rehab. But at this point in my life, that’s not what I want. I love the space we’ve created, the restaurant we own now. I love that we do 100-plus covers a night. My team is one team. They are fully committed, all in, all out. We see the light at the end of the tunnel. After a few months, we can take a vacation, I can do my thing, they can do theirs, and we have each other’s backs. That’s what I’m really trying to cultivate and that’s enough. That’s all we need.
Published on December 18, 2025
Words by Daniel Anderson
Daniel Anderson is a disabled Chinese American adoptee based in Seattle. His freelance writing specialties include K-pop, entertainment, and food. He believes that any restaurant can be a buffet, and the key to success is to take a nap each day. Follow his adventures on Instagram @danzstan.