Eric Silverstein - The Peached Tortilla: Modern Asian Comfort Food from Tokyo to Texas

I met Eric Silverstein back in 2010 at the San Francisco Street Food Festival. Ill be honest: I havent met a lot of Chinese dudes with a Southern drawl, but he had that easygoing and relaxed demeanor that was Texas through and through. Chinese Texas, that is. Here we were, two street food guys, myself from Seattle and Eric from Austin, Texas, doing the hustle and trying to grab the opportunity in front of us in life.

While at this event, where Eric was making something like two thousand portions of tacos in the course of a day, it became very apparent that he was someone who worked his ass off. I still remember him in the commissary mixing big buckets of peanut sauce in this kitchen that was a complete shitshow, and he was utterly focused. To paint the picture a bit more, this was a group of street food vendors in a tiny kitchen, and lets just say, at these types of events, it is like a mix of carnies, cat-herding, and screaming-hot ovens, but there was Eric over his bucket of peanut sauce... locked in... focused.

Years later, after I had opened my first brick-and-mortar, there was a moment when Eric and I were talking. He mentioned that he was also thinking of opening a restaurant, down in Austin. I told him to go for it and not to even think twice about it. Street food is hard, and the kind of work that it entails is unlike a lot of things. It is simply hard. Im not saying that running restaurants isnt difficult, but street food is hard on a different level. Eric decided to move forward with it, and when the time came, some of our team from the Huxley Wallace Collective and I went down and helped him open. We were so honored to be able to assist and be a part of this with and for him.

As we both grew our respective restaurants and restaurant groups over the years, it was evident that Eric was going to be successful in a number of ways. He has a knack for giving people what they want. I say this because a lot of chefs (including myself) have a hard time doing that sometimes. Oftentimes, we give people what we think they should want, and ultimately that either works out or we end up shifting gears and decide to have restaurants that actually sell food. Eric knew this early on, and while he was still introducing his specific point of view and ideas on food, he did it in a way that was approachable and decidedly comforting.

In this business, we, as restaurateurs and chefs, all watch one another. We look at websites, menus, Instagram, and just generally observe how people are doing what they do. I have always looked at Eric, his staff, and how he conducts his business with great admiration. The fact that hes a genuinely good character is a bonus. This business can turn people into assholes pretty quickly, but Eric remains an awesome dude and a good friend. Maybe its his drawl that lulls me into a sense of ease, but you gotta respect anyone whos able to always push forward in spite of every speed bump that he hits in this business.

I hope, when you read this book, that you realize how special it is to have a restaurant that stays open for more than four or five years. When you add to that the fact that it came from a street food truck, serving a Southern-inspired version of tacos drawn from his Chinese heritage and youth in Japan, you will understand why Eric and his team are unique and why they are so special. The authenticity of his story and his food, his genuine hospitality, and his love of what he does shine bright.

Chef & Proprietor, Huxley Wallace Collective

My love of food is why I am here todaythe chef-owner of a multifaceted hospitality company that includes three restaurants, two food trucks, a large full-service catering company, and an event space. In 2010, I married my two biggest passionsfood and entrepreneurshipand set out on a journey to turn these passions into a profit. My entire life I have never felt that I fit the mold. I spent the better part of my childhood growing up in Japan as a mixed-race kid and then moved to Atlanta at the age of eleven. Most chef-entrepreneurs cant be pigeonholed in a box, and I am no different. For thirty-six years Ive embraced the journey but made it a point to only look ahead.

If you leave with just one takeaway from reading this book, I hope its the realization that life is short. Tomorrow is never guaranteed, and life can be cut short at any moment. Im a realist, not a philosopher or a scientist. This is how I live my lifelike there is no tomorrow. This approach is what forced me to leave my job as a litigator when I was twenty-seven years old to start a food truck. I left behind a six-figure paycheck, insurance, benefits, and friends to pursue a dream, because I felt that time was passing me by. I never wanted to ask What if? I never wanted to look back and regret that I never gave my dreams a shot. I never gave a fuck what people thought of me for leaving law to pursue my passion. Maybe I was throwing away my degree, but that still felt better than being miserable, trying to will myself to love the practice of law.