Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Duly Lee. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Duly, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. We’d love to have you retell us the story behind how you came up with the idea for your business, I think our audience would really enjoy hearing the backstory.

I am not a trained baker.

I saw my wife Aura holding her crystal sound bowl when I told her I also meditated in circles. I was mixing the batter for probably my hundredth basque cheesecake at that moment. Baking became my space for mental respite – a meditation practice. Baking is violent and precise; when you are in your flow, it’s a motorcycle ride to the end.

It was a hectic day with the usual busyness: time with your kid, home cleaning, meetings. Gabi Rivera nudged me, “I’ll play with your kid; do what you have to do to make that post.” She was talking about the basque cheesecakes I was making. It was December 2023, and that week I got 70 Christmas orders from curious neighbors in Cambridge. One of the client loved it so much, she recommended it for a corporate pop-up at The AI Institute (Boston Dynamics’ non-profit arm). Everyone loved it. Everyone felt it. The quality and flavor reflected the intense and intentional creations. Each cheesecake represented to me a unit of meditation.

I was going through some very difficult emotional situations from intergenerational trauma and in a mental spiral of resentment. If you are someone that is working on yourself, you know what I mean. It comes and goes, but when it comes, you have to deal with it head-on. After having to answer different formats of the same question, I distilled it down to two taglines for Korean Momma. “Forgiveness is Sweet” and “Indulge in the Flavors of Unspoken Emotions.”

I was able to connect with wandering customers who saw it on Instagram, found it on a Reddit feed for “Best Cheesecakes in Boston,” or were just lost in Google Maps, looking for a bakery that doesn’t seem to exist. The commonality of their quests was curiosity and looking for something special or for a special occasion, like ceremonies, birthdays, anniversaries, and even funerals. This attraction also speaks to how cool Cambridge is—walkable, diverse, and a rich intellectual community.

It was never intended to become a business. But I also had a primal need to bake. Each order I would receive reminded me I had to stop, pause, and meditate. There were three mini-breakthroughs enablers along the way.

First, a customer created my location profile on Google Maps to leave me a review since she wasn’t on social media (yep, I still don’t own my Google business profile). This gave me visibility to pedestrians near Central Square between MIT and Harvard. At one point, 90% of customers were finding me on their smartphone maps and were directed to my website since there was no physical bakery at the location, just my apartment building.

Second, Yume-Wo-Katare, a Cambridge ramen institution at Porter Square, picked up on the cake and promoted me on their Instagram. It was funny and terrifying because my sales 4x’ed overnight, and I had to close the online shop. I had never met Jake Vo before, and he somehow knew I would pull it off. He opened the floodgates. It was a gamble that paid off since we now partner as the first drop-date pick-up location.

Third, I was already doing some out-of-state shipping (NYC, Miami, Austin) in 3-day Fedex ground shipping zones. Although I’ve only tried it during the winter (I started in January 2024), I had figured out a way for the cakes to arrive perfectly in an insulated chill- box container packaging. Expensive though. When Joyce Vance, a CNBC Political Analyst with a big following, shared Korean Momma Basque Cheesecake on her Instagram account, it instantly got thousands of likes, and I started receiving requests from California to Alabama for the cakes. I wasn’t ready for this at all – and could not provide economical shipping, but someone paid $200 just in shipping to try my cake based on that post.

At the end of the day, I think it’s an “immigrant” story—a story of finding a space free from moral persecutions and connecting with anyone who wants to share their stories and emotions with their friends and community. It is about bridging unspoken emotions and celebrating intergenerational bonds through the most common denominator: food that tastes good. It is about “Sweet Forgiveness,” allowing self-acceptance, accepting the situation, and living in the moment. All my flavors are based on interweaving these stories, and I think people connect to that emotional capacity. Just like Yume-Wo-Katare is not a ramen store, but a “Dream Workshop,” Korean Momma is not a bakery, but a practice of reconciliation.

Our first product, Korean Momma Ginger Tea, tells it all. In 2013, Julip, the real Korean Momma, was in Panama. It was a very rare trip for her and also the trip where I confessed to the desire to marry Aura. The concern here was that Aura was not “Korean.” Without going too deep into the story… in her venting, she had processed and prepared 50 pounds of ginger tea overnight before getting on her long-haul flight back to Seoul. I was given 50 pounds of pure resentment, and I didn’t know what to do with it but to hide it under the kitchen cabinet. I was invited to participate in a pop-up market later that year and discovered a perfectly fermented ginger tea batch under the same cabinet I had hidden my worries away six months ago. That day, Korean Momma’s 180 day fermented ginger teas were sold out at record speed; the rest is history.

So this is all very personal, but what I am most excited about is that I am finally at a place where I will settle down with my family, and have the opportunity to live my dream and story through this experience. I think today, it can be Basque-inspired multicultural cheesecakes, but tomorrow, it will be something else that connects people. I’ve done dumplings during COVID19 in Panama, and that was pretty fun connecting people during wild and isolated times. Now with Cambridge as our home, and settling as a family, I would love to continue creating new local stories that resonate with people emotions and their own healing journeys.

Duly, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I’m a trained urbanist and architect, and an advocate for the built environment and community. However, the lifecycle of these projects often takes an eternity to complete, sometimes extending beyond one’s lifetime. To find bite-sized satisfactions and quick accomplishments, I turn to the kitchen and sharing of food.

I grew up in a multicultural environment, mostly in Latin America. As a Korean navigating Mexico, Chile, and Panama during my adolescent years, my personal values have become more Latin, although my hips remain very Korean—stiff and awkward on the dance floor. I just try my best to have fun.

My father, during the 1970s, chose to learn Spanish instead of English, which was the preferred second language for Koreans aspiring for economic mobility. This unique choice placed him in a distinctive position at one of Korea’s largest conglomerates, where he was responsible for establishing branch offices across Latin America. This nomadic lifestyle defined my childhood, moving every 1-3 years to new markets. Although this upbringing made me extremely resilient, I also carry the trauma of constant relocation and the challenges my mother faced in those times without the modern communication tools we now take for granted. I strive to provide my children with a stable home, something I deeply value.

I am passionate about understanding place and people, leading me to engage deeply in community development and regenerative land development. In Panama, where I met my wife and connected with her culture, I co-founded a non-profit foundation focused on rescuing abandoned green spaces in Panama City. Our flagship project was an annual festival in the city’s largest park, celebrating Panama’s natural resources and fostering knowledge exchange for a sustainable society.

Now settled in Cambridge, I have joined Just-A-Start, a local non-profit dedicated to building equitable and thriving communities through affordable housing, career training, and comprehensive support services. This new adventure excites me, as I aim to provide a stable upbringing for my children. My journey in Cambridge began almost ten years ago when I pursued my graduate degree at Harvard GSD. Initially, I viewed myself as a temporary resident, but now, as a permanent community member, I appreciate participating in a place I once saw only as a passerby. My son Jet was born here during my studies, and we recently welcomed our second child, Roi, this year, making Cambridge truly our home.

Francois Roche, my favorite and most intriguing architect, once told me, “You can’t escape where you come from.” He referred to one’s origin, national identity, and cultural foundation. For me, this phrase has an additional meaning. Despite my turbulent, multicultural journey, I have found liberation in expressing my truth here in Cambridge. While I will always have multiple homes, including Korea and Panama, Cambridge is now where I will see my family grow and the cause I will fight for.

How about pivoting – can you share the story of a time you’ve had to pivot?

As mentioned earlier, my life has been a series of pivots due to constant relocations and cultural shifts. Accustomed to perpetual change, I was always ready to pack up and move, with high levels of adrenaline and cortisol becoming my norm. However, the most profound pivot came while searching for a remedy for my son’s rare congenital bone disease during our stay in Korea amidst the COVID19 pandemic.

I vividly remember the astonished expression on the face of the top orthopedic surgeon at Seoul National University’s Children’s Hospital. He asked why we were there, explaining that he couldn’t perform the surgery our son needed. He then questioned, in disbelief, why we had left Boston, home to Boston Children’s Hospital—the best in the world and where he himself trained. In hindsight, I can’t fathom why we overlooked the obvious solution and sought alternatives. Driven by personal ambitions and a quest for professional success, I had disrupted my family’s peace.

Within days of that conversation, we packed our bags and returned to Boston. We blindly rented an apartment in Cambridge, aiming to stay close to the parks our son recognized, creating a familiar environment for him in preparation for the impending surgery. The operation had only a 10% chance of success, but it was our best hope.

Miraculously, the surgery was successful, stabilizing our son’s condition. This unexpected turn of events grounded me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. My son’s health became the anchor that rooted us in a place, a community, and a future. This pivot not only redirected our physical location but also reshaped my priorities, teaching me the true value of stability and the profound impact of being present for my family.

Any insights you can share with us about how you built up your social media presence?

Honestly, I was never into social media and was actually quite shy about it. Maybe it’s part of my imposter syndrome. I always struggled with what to post, too self-aware of how it would affect my image. However, with Korean Momma, I unconsciously took a different approach—not by design. I didn’t have any plans or strategy. It was all organic, word of mouth: no marketing campaign or programmed content. I was just raw, sharing my genuine self.

I realized that being vulnerable and transparent might be the best marketing strategy. Don’t overthink. Just be you. At least, it seems to be working so far, and I really have no expectations.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.koreanmomma.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_koreanmomma_/
• Other: https://g.co/kgs/g9KBFG4