In my Korean family, there is never a meal without kimchee. This fermented Chinese cabbage is kind of like the sauerkraut people commonly put on hot dogs, only with a “kick”. There are lots of hot peppers and spices that go into this side dish along with salt, garlic, ginger, scallions, and vinegar. Actually kimchee can be made with any type of vegetable that will withstand the pickling process. My favorites are radish and cucumber kimchees. To me the perfect meal is kimchee with rice or bulgogi (barbequed beef) or a compilation of all three wrapped in a lettuce leaf and dotted with red pepper miso paste. Yum!
Kimchee from home in West Nyack, NY was composed of ingredients from the dad’s organic garden. Dad woke up before sunrise to tend to these lush vegetables and fruits. He was often reluctant to go on vacations for fear that the rabbits would eat his lettuce. Every day something from the garden was prominently set on the table for consumption. The freshness of dad’s ingredients in the family kimchee made it taste superior to the ones bought in the store. Somehow, the homemade kimchee was crunchier, sweeter, and hotter and just plain better because it was made from scratch by mom’s loving hands.
I remember when I was in kindergarten, I always looked forward to going home after school on kimchee making day. Mom would have the ingredients ready for me and we would make it together. I got very sad if she made kimchee without me, so she always waited. I would sprinkle kosher salt in between the cabbage leaves. then set it aside to work on the seasoning. Under mom’s careful instruction I put garlic, ginger, sugar, salt, chili pepper, and red bell pepper in the blender and pressed all sorts of buttons to create a fiery red lava-like liquid. Mom added carrots in the shape of her signature flat flowers and chopped scallions. Then I scooped the puree with my glove covered hands and patted the seasoning within all of the crevices of the whole cabbage. We consumed some of it fresh for dinner that night and put the rest away for the lava to permeate throughout the cabbage. Mom said back when she was a kid in Korea, she used to store Kimchee in big clay jars about the size of a … and store in the ground during the winter due to absence of refrigerator. Nowadays kimchee is stored in glass jars and kept in the fridge where it would last for weeks. Mom wore gloves when she took the pogee of kimchee out and slices it into 1-inch pieces to accompany the meal that day.
There were so many uses for kimchee. In our quirky house, we minced it and put it on pizza, brought it camping with us and ate it with baked campfire sweet potatoes, oh and the ultimate best was when mom made kimchee stew which was a variety of vegetables, tofu, and oxtail beef in a miso soup base. We ate kimchee for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was utterly fabulous.
When I was in grade school I used to invite my friends over to play and have dinner with my family, but my friends opted not to stay when they smelled the kimchee. They complained that it was stinky and looked disgusting. Their ignorance to trying new foods left me dumbfounded. It led to a mini food revolution in my life. I vowed always to try new dishes or ingredients no matter how exotic. I also sought to surround myself with people who were open to new tastes and new ideas. If my taste buds did not agree with the aroma or the taste of the food that I tried the first time, I would try it again later. I was a culinary adventurer, always traveling to new places to try new dishes or ingredients.
My gastronomic experiences have influenced me to become the kind of cook that seeks to incorporate unusual ingredients in usual dishes while using the freshest ingredients possible. If there are a hundred different ways to make chocolate chip cookies, I want to find the ingredient that will make people really talk about what makes my chocolate chip special. I want to make quality food that is not boring. I want to dare food lovers with my cooked concoctions. Hmm… chocolate chip cookies with a hint of kimchee liquid baked into the dough? Perhaps.
