Tzuyang and the Double-Edged World of Mukbang
"Mukbang" is a Korean portmanteau of "muk" (eating) and "bangsong" (broadcast). It began as a quirky genre of online content where hosts eat large quantities of food while chatting with viewers in real time. What started in South Korea in the early 2010s has now become a viral global staple on streaming platforms, YouTube, and even Netflix.
One of the faces of this global phenomenon is Tzuyang (real name Jeong-won Park), a petite young woman with the appetite of a competitive eater. With roughly 12 million YouTube subscribers as of 2025, she represents the paradox and allure of mukbang culture: someone who defies bodily expectations while devouring mountain-sized meals.

The Case For Mukbang: Entertainment and Empowerment
For many viewers, mukbang is more than watching someone eat—it’s about connection. In a world where more people dine alone or have little time for meals, mukbang provides a vicarious (indirect) sense of community. Watching someone enjoy food can be oddly comforting and even therapeutic.
Tzuyang has played a major role in spreading Korean food and culture internationally. She's often described abroad as a “skinny Korean influencer,” captivating viewers with both her looks and surprising appetite. From kimchi stews to live octopus, her videos have drawn attention to the richness of Korean cuisine.
Mukbang has also opened up new careers. Successful creators like Tzuyang turn their passion into full-time work, collaborating with restaurants, brands, and tourism boards. The genre fuels interest in the food service industry and inspires curiosity about global eats.
The Flip Side: Health and Ethical Concerns
Yet not all attention is positive. Critics argue that mukbang glamorizes unhealthy eating. When creators consume dozens of burgers or entire buffets in a single sitting, it can promote binge eating or harmful relationships with food. Tzuyang herself has been called out for encouraging the idea that anyone can, or should, eat like a competitive eater.
She also faced backlash in 2020 over undisclosed sponsored content—a practice known as "stealth ads." The controversy damaged her credibility, prompting her to temporarily quit YouTube before making a comeback. It highlighted the broader issue of transparency in influencer marketing.
Another concern is food waste. Some viewers worry that mukbang encourages overconsumption and excess, especially when creators discard leftovers or make overly extravagant meals just for spectacle. At a time of rising environmental concern and global hunger, that’s a hard image to stomach.
Solutions for a Healthier Mukbang Industry
So can mukbang evolve into a more responsible form of entertainment? Some creators are already setting boundaries—showing smaller portion episodes, being honest about editing, or donating unused food. For fans, knowing their favorite content doesn’t come at the cost of health or ethics can make all the difference.
Transparency is also key. Clearly labeling sponsored content and following advertising laws is not just a legal requirement—it’s essential for maintaining viewer trust. Mukbang creators have a responsibility to be upfront about who's funding their noodles.
Nutritionists and doctors have urged content makers to message responsibly. Promoting balanced eating or even inviting health experts for educational episodes could bridge the gap between fun and accountability. After all, food media doesn’t have to ignore wellness—cooking shows manage it just fine.
Tzuyang at the Crossroads of Fame and Criticism
Tzuyang’s unique appeal—a tiny woman demolishing insane amounts of food—has solidified her global fame. But with great popularity comes scrutiny. Her 2020 hidden ad controversy revealed the contradictions between a creator’s curated persona and behind-the-scenes reality.
Despite the drama, she returned to the platform, supported by fans who admire her authenticity and sheer talent. Yet many now expect more: smarter content choices, responsible messaging, and no more shady sponsorships. It’s a tightrope walk between staying popular and staying principled.
Online reactions to Tzuyang are mostly positive, praising her charisma and appetite. But a significant group raises serious questions: Is mukbang sustainable? What are the long-term effects on both viewers and creators? The debate continues, with Tzuyang right at the heart of it.
Conclusion: The Future of Mukbang
Mukbang reflects a curious side of our modern culture. It blends food, entertainment, identity, and globalization. But as with any media trend, its power cuts both ways—able to delight and disturb in equal measure.
Tzuyang, for better or worse, is one of the genre’s most recognizable faces. Whether she becomes a symbol of thoughtful evolution or shallow excess may depend on what choices she—and the industry as a whole—makes next.