Just because recipes can’t be copyrighted doesn’t mean they’re ripe for stealing
Let’s talk about respect, credit, and cultural erasure and how to properly attribute recipes
ANNOUNCEMENT
my dear friend, my next cookbook, 108 Asian Cookies, is coming this October, and if you preorder now, you will receive a year-long subscription to my premium substack (worth $70) and access to new recipes all year long! Preorders mean so, so much to underrepresented authors like me and show publishers and retailers that voices like mine deserve prominent spaces on the bookshelves! Thank you!
END OF ANNOUNCEMENT
dear friend,
You’ve seen them: Violet Witchel’s dense bean salad. Logan Fewd’s cucumber salad. These viral recipes circulate online, and more often than not, their creators receive credit and celebration.
It only takes a simple recipe, technique, or idea to launch someone’s food career.
But for some, unfortunately, viral moments lead to erasure rather than celebration. I’ve watched my recipes, like my viral chocolate rice or mochi cookies, get copied, reposted, and reshared by others without any attribution. Sometimes, other creators or influencers will mimic my video style, technique, and even facial expressions. The videos go viral, but my name and credit? Nowhere to be found.
Recently, this creator had to be called out multiple times before they added @katlieu to their captions.
And here is my original post:
Some people online have pointed out how she even copied my facial expressions. One person sent me a nasty DM saying that “copying is the highest form of flattery” and that I should be “flattered and honored.”
No. I am not flattered or honored that someone recreated my recipe with little to no changes and copied my video style and facial expressions. I am somewhat creeped out. I will let this one rest, since the creator in question finally added my handle to their video caption.
However, there was another creator who made my chocolate rice and rice pudding recipe, and even after she was called out for copying the recipe and the way I made my viral video, she refused to give me any credit.
Why is that? Why do people love my recipes but erase me?
Food is more than just ingredients. It’s storytelling, culture, and identity. And when Asian creators are repeatedly left out of the narrative, it starts to feel less like oversight and more like systemic silencing.
Here’s the thing, though: only the unique way recipes are written can be copyrighted (such as the headnote). The ingredient list and basic instructions can not be copyrighted or “patented.”
This all leaves authors and creators vulnerable. And this vulnerability has real consequences. Recently, Australian food blogger Nagi Maehashi (RecipeTin Eats) accused influencer Brooke Bellamy of word‑for‑word copying of her caramel slice and baklava recipes in Bake with Brooki, a cookbook published by Penguin Random House Australia in October. Additionally, U.S. baker Sally McKenney had also claimed that Brooke similarly lifted her vanilla cake recipe.
Penguin and Bellamy have denied the allegations, stating the recipes were independently created and, in Bellamy's words, “developed over many years.” Bellamy even offered to remove the disputed recipes from future editions to diffuse tensions. A revised version of the caramel slice recipe was already published in a later reprint.
All this goes to show: recipes may seem open season, but when your writing gets swiped and profits are at stake, creators are often left with little recourse against publishers and influencers backed by major houses like Penguin.
It’s not just unfair, it’s systemic! It’s damaging! Shit.
When I shared my chocolate rice video and it went viral, I was flooded with hate. Hundreds of commenters told me to die. To delete myself. To stop “ruining food.” And yet, when white creators posted nearly identical videos later? They were celebrated. Praised for being “creative” and “innovative.”
Why is that?
In today’s content-hungry world, it’s far too easy to lift a recipe, mimic a concept, or copy someone’s video frame-for-frame or technique-for-technique, and get away with it. It’s a gray area legally, but morally? Spiritually? Culturally?
It’s not okay!
Because our food and recipes aren’t just content: they’re our culture, our identity. Food and recipes are how many of us pass down our heritage, tell our stories, and survive invisibility. And when Asian creators and other marginalized voices are erased, when our recipes are stripped of our names, creative process, and our labor, it’s not just oversight. It becomes a form of cultural extraction and appropriation. And again. It’s erasure.
So, what’s the right way to share a recipe by another creator or author?
First off, say their name. LOUDLY. Link to the original recipe or video/reel. Mention the creator. Thank them! Even a quick “inspired by” or “adapted from” goes a long way. It shows you care. It shows you respect the person behind the food.
Because attribution isn’t just polite, it’s powerful. It’s how we protect our communities, our labor, and our legacies.
But what if you changed up the recipe? What then? Does it still resemble the original? Or did the original one still inspire you?
You still credit the original. Always. Because inspiration matters. Because no recipe is created in a vacuum. If you swapped a few ingredients or rewrote the steps, great! Say so. Try this:
“Adapted from [Creator’s Name]’s amazing recipe” or…
“Inspired by a dish I saw on [Platform] by [Creator’s Handle]” or…
“Based on a recipe by [Author], but I made it my own with…”
So, when does a recipe actually becomes yours?
Usually, we credit the creator who was the first in recent memory to bring a recipe, idea, or twist into the spotlight. Frankie Gaw is widely recognized for his shaved ice made from frozen fruit. Has no one shaved fruits into ice before him? Well, no one has gone viral like he has for shaving frozen fruit.
Violet Witchel is credited for her dense bean salads. Has no one else made salads with beans before? Or Logan Fewd’s cucumber salad, which has been in existence across Asia for decades, was credited to him for his Asian-style cucumber salad. \
It’s not that these creators invented these ingredients or techniques from scratch, but they were the first to package the concept in a way that resonated, stuck, and spread.
That’s what authorship looks like in the food world. It’s about who introduced an idea, who gave it its modern voice, its viral form, its hook. That’s what makes it theirs.
In my case, I’m not the first person to make chocolate rice. But I am, in recent memory, the first to go viral for melting chocolate bars directly into a rice cooker with cooked white rice, transforming it into a luscious pudding-like dessert. I am the first to make it that way. I created the concept, filmed it, shared it, and people resonated with it. People copied me.
I also developed the lemon blueberry mochi cookies made with water and miso. That combo didn’t exist before I published it. Have mochi cookies existed before mine? Of course! But my exact recipe has not existed before I shared it publicly.
And it’s not just about flavors, it’s about formulation. The textures, the method, the unique balance of sweet and savory. It’s a recipe I've tested repeatedly in my kitchen. That’s authorship. That’s invention.
See, with recipe authorship, it’s all about ethical storytelling and resharing. About acknowledging the source, the spark, the person or inspiration that helped you create something beautiful. For instance, my lemon blueberry mochi cookie? I dreamed of it all night before making it. I wanted to surprise my child with it. I wanted my house to smell like blueberries and summer. I wanted people who can’t enjoy cookies made with gluten, dairy, or eggs to be able to enjoy these cookies.
The people who copied me? What’s your story behind the recipe? None, because you fucking copied my idea.
Attribution and giving credit where it’s deserved: that’s how we build an honest and respectful food culture, not one that erases people the moment their ideas go viral.
Creators deserve credit, not silence. Visibility, not theft. Respect, not repackaging.
Let’s be better than that. Let’s express our gratitude to each other loudly.
Further reading: On recipe attribution https://www.davidlebovitz.com/recipe-attribution/
Well, my friend, thank you for listening to my TED talk. (I’ll be giving a real one this October!) Whether you’re baking my cookies and treats to share with loved ones, or just for yourself on a quiet night in, I hope they bring you as much joy, warmth, and comfort as they brought to my kitchen.
xoxoxo,
Kat Lieu of Kathleen’s Kitchen, Modern Asian Baking, and Subtle Asian Baking
“One day, I will be the Asian Julia Child…”- Kat Lieu <3 And you are paving the path for me to achieve this dream, dear friend <3
yes this is a very important issue, thank you for raising it’s visibility! Especially for me, I love adapting restaurant recipes, and I always do my best to credit the name of the chef/restaurant behind it, including a link to their website or online store. There’s room for us all to grow and recipes are not “owned” by anyone. Even those “innovators” who “came up with” your favorite recipe got inspiration from someone who came before them, which is why some of my favorite chefs pay homage to their teachers in their work. A great example being Evan Funke, who named each dish on his restaurant Funke’s menu after the Italian woman who taught him to make the pasta shape in the dish
I am a chemistry major who bakes, and I have seen this problem from so many different angles. People want to be the first or “original,” so they think not mentioning them is better. But giving credit makes you, guess what? More credible.