INTERVIEW: Chef Christine Ha
On May 1, 2025, I was blessed with the opportunity to attend the “Thanks a Brunch!” event at the Cleveland Public Library. At this event, I met Christine Ha, the 2012 MasterChef winner. I would like to thank Mrs. Tana Peckham for helping me privately meet Ms. Ha, and I would like to thank the Cleveland Public Library for organizing this event. Happy Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, and enjoy the article!
Picture taken by Catherine Young with the Cleveland Public Library.
The event started strong with a casual, moderated fireside chat. Christine introduced herself: she is a visually impaired, Vietnamese-American, professional chef. Ha’s parents fled to America the day before the fall of Saigon, moved across the United States, had Christine in California, and then finally moved to Texas. Growing up, Ha never learned how to cook. Her mom typically cooked Vietnamese food at home for the entire family, which Ha said she took for granted. She thought that she had the rest of her life to learn cooking from her mom, but then, when she was fourteen, her mother died of cancer.
Later in college, Ha was forced to learn how to cook out of necessity. She found herself drawn back to Vietnamese cooking, and she fell in love with the process. Because some online recipes didn’t quite taste the way her mom used to make them, Ha had to reverse-engineer the recipes herself. Then, when she was in her twenties, an autoimmune disease, neuromyelitis optica spectrum disorder (NMOSD), struck and caused permanent vision loss.
During MasterChef, many of her competitors originally believed that she was a TV gimmick, saying that “she could totally see.” Of course, this wasn’t true. “I don’t want to be known for ‘Oh she’s a really good cook even though she’s blind,’” Christine said, “I want to just be a great cook.” When asked about how she felt when she received her MasterChef white apron, she said that she told herself, “Maybe I do belong.”
After the chat, we moved to the cooking demonstration portion of the night. To fit with the “brunch” theme, Christine made Bò Né–a popular Vietnamese steak and egg breakfast. My jaw dropped when she announced what she was cooking, especially because Bò Né is one of my favorite breakfast foods ever. What impressed me the most, although I was amazed by her technical skills, was her use of Maggi sauce and Vietnamese pate. I was awestruck when she included these specific ingredients because of how much I related to her. For me, this solidified my impression of her as an authentic Vietnamese person. She didn’t pick a particularly flashy or complicated dish. She didn’t pick a basic Vietnamese dish. She used simple, staple ingredients. She used Maggi sauce. She likes her eggs slightly charred on the edges. Christine Ha became more than just a famous, blind chef for me.
Smelling the Bò Né, the onions, the maggi on the egg drew me back to Sunday mornings when I was younger. When I would walk downstairs, embrace the sunlight that seeped through the house’s dusty curtains, and smell the same smell with a big smile on my face. The smell reassured me of my mom’s presence in the kitchen, smiling and waiting for me with a simple, loving breakfast before work.
Even though Christine and I were 20 feet apart, and even though I could see her and she couldn’t see me, I felt connected to Christine. It wasn’t because I accidentally sat in the reserved section and somehow ended up sitting next to her husband. It was through that familiar smell that tied the bow on our shared Vietnamese heritage, culture, and palate. She inspired me, not just because she was blind, but because of how far she brought Vietnamese flavors and her identity.
Another favorite part of my night was when I got to meet Ms. Ha one-on-one. These are the questions I asked, and these are the answers I got.
What advice would you give your younger self? Don’t take life so seriously. Trust your gut! Be confident and do what you know.
Have you ever experienced any forms of racism in the culinary world? Not really, actually, I think MasterChef showed people that I was a force to be reckoned with. Of course, I did when I was younger. People at school would always make fun of me and turn up their noses when I brought Vietnamese food to school.
What does being Vietnamese-American mean to you, especially as you navigate the culinary world? Growing up, I didn’t know that I could be both. At home, I wasn’t Vietnamese enough. At school, I wasn’t American enough. During lunchtime at school, I would always trade my chả giò (Vietnamese egg rolls) for bologna sandwiches. But as I got older, I realized that I can be both. People often tell me that I need to make some of my dishes more American, but I just reply with: “We’re all American.” I like to mash both identities together when creating menus and make something new.
What are your favorite Vietnamese foods? What are some of your favorite, underrated dishes? I love phở bò (especially my mom’s, but I still can’t figure out how to completely recreate it), chả giò, and bún bò huế. Some underrated ones are thịt kho and bánh cuốn!
I would like to thank Christine Ha for meeting me and answering my questions. I would, again, like to thank the Cleveland Public Library and Mrs. Tana Peckham for the event and support. Also, thank you to Eloise Peckham for connecting me with Mrs. Peckham! And last, but not least, thank you, Mr. Schott, for always supporting me. Happy Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month. I hope this article inspires you to carry your heritage into your passions, just like Ms. Ha!
