Preserved in soybean paste kimchi tastes good in the summer, whereas kimchi pickled in brine is served as a good side dish during the winter. When the root of the Chinese cabbage grows larger in the ground, it tastes like a pear, especially after the first frost in the autumn harvest season.
—From the poem “Six Songs on the Backyard Vegetable Plot,” by Lee Gyu-bo (1168–1241), in Good Morning, Kimchi, by Sook-ja Yoon
The quote above is the first written record of kimchi pickled in brine. Lee Gyu-bo was a twelfth-century Korean senior government official who left his work behind for a simple life in the woods as a poet. His story is one that is still being played out. Trying to get back to the land, it turns out, is nothing new.
Kimchi probably most famously hit the world media in 2008 during the outbreak of avian flu. There was not one recorded case of the flu in Korea, which was attributed to kimchi consumption.
This magical “soul food” of Korea often appears on “super food” lists. It is believed the properties of the combination of garlic and pepper, magnified by fermentation, is what gives kimchi its immune-boosting power.
The product that is now known as kimchi developed on the Korean peninsula. It is distinguished by its staple ingredients: Chinese or napa cabbage, radish, garlic, scallions, ginger, and red chile pepper.
Neither of us has a Korean background, nor did we apprentice with a master kimchi maker to learn the art. Our kimchi résumé is simply that we read as much as we could, we made a lot of it, and many people enjoyed what we created and sold. From that experience we hope to provide a basic primer in this chapter.
As with other ancient domestic arts, there are as many correct ways to make kimchi as there have been mothers passing down knowledge to their daughters. The exacting recipes that we are accustomed to today would not have been an option for most families. Through much of history, people haven’t had the luxury that comes with supermarkets and year-round vegetables. The variability of each year’s harvest season dictated the composition of kimchis.
As we trend toward more local food systems, we are returning more to the old ways. The home cook realizes that though there is no daikon available, for example, the farmers’ market is bursting with red, purple, and pink Easter egg radishes. And so the recipe shifts and the flavor of that moment is captured. Next time, it might be turnips that take center stage.
Kimchi is the common name for any vegetable pickled in the Korean style of lactic-acid fermentation. The most familiar type of kimchi in the United States is a dazzling sunset orange color with a fiery spicy flavor to match. It’s called tongbaechu and its main ingredient is napa cabbage.
In Korea there are nearly 200 documented varieties of kimchi, and probably an exponential quantity of family recipes. Kimchi is more than a side dish or condiment, it’s a cultural symbol and a great source of national pride, as evidenced by the national museum dedicated to the dish.
In this book we’ve included recipes for the two broad types of kimchi: the regular type of kimchi, like tongbaechu, which is similar to kraut in consistency, and water kimchi, which is a vegetable pickle in prepared brine. Water kimchis are made by following the same process as brine pickling (see chapter 6). The biggest difference between water kimchi and its Western pickle counterpart is the spice profile. Instead of dill and mustard seed, water kimchis often include ginger, chile pepper, garlic, and sugar in the brine, which adds extra effervescent sparkle. We have found that using this array of ingredients allows for a lot of experimentation. Changing the ratios can radically change a recipe, although you almost can’t go wrong with variations on ginger, garlic, and chile pepper.
Some traditional recipes contain a starch, often rice or wheat flour, which is made into a paste to act as a thickener. We have chosen to keep the kimchi recipes in this book simple, and so we do not use starches.
A few of our kimchi recipes are adapted from a book by Sook-ja Yoon called Good Morning, Kimchi! If you are serious about kimchi, this can be an inspiring book, though at times the translation requires a bit of interpretation.
The traditional process for kimchi can be thought of as a hybrid of brine pickling and sauerkraut making. The napa cabbage soaks in a brine solution for 6 to 8 hours; then it is mixed with spices and other vegetables that have not been in brine. This is an extra step that takes some time and planning.
Before we made kimchi commercially, we tried to cheat tradition and just process kimchi ingredients as in any mixed-vegetable sauerkraut. This is valid and tasty, as you can try for yourself in a favorite recipe contributed by the fermentistas at Spirit Creek Farm. We prefer the flavor we get when we take the extra brining step, though we suggest you try both methods to see which one you prefer.
The process is also different scientifically. As the cabbage soaks in brine, salt penetrates it by osmosis and dehydrates the cabbage, whereby the water is replaced by salt. Now there is salt both inside and out.
Spring Radish Pickles
The traditional red chile pepper in kimchi is gochugaru (gochu means chile; garu means powder). It’s a vibrant red and has a bit of sweetness, like Hungarian paprika. Unlike paprika, however, gochugaru is hot.
You’ll find this imported Korean chile powder at Asian markets. Most of the ones we can find contain salt and other additives, which we don’t want. When we cannot find pure chile powder we substitute red chile pepper flakes. For an authentic look and feel, grind the flakes into a finer powder.
If it’s not ready, rinse the followers and weights, put them back in place, and continue monitoring the brine level and watching for scum and mold.
