Kimchi gold

As I wrote on Monday, kimchi is in short supply around these parts. NPR has also picked up on the story, which they blame on "heavy rains" - presumably a result of the typhoons that have been hitting the country lately.

Where's all the kimchi??

The other day I breezed through my cafeteria's buffet line, filling my tray with the usual rice, soup, and usual assorted side dishes. When I reached the end of the table, I was confused. Had I missed the kimchi? I went back for a second look. It wasn't there. The other teachers must have eaten it all, I thought. I checked the student line. Still I found nothing. A wave of disappointment crept through my body. I've been in Korea too long, I decided.

Kimchi is, needless to say, a staple of the Korean diet. They don't eat meals without it. It's taken for granted that when you visit a Korean restaurant, you will be given a never-ending side dish of kimchi. It was unnerving to see a Korean meal without the fermented dish. When I sat down I asked another teacher about it. "Kimchi has gotten too expensive these days," she said. "The school can't afford it." More expensive than pork? I asked. It was one of the side dishes that day. She told me people are joking that when you go to a restaurant, you order kimchi and they give you samgyeopsal (roasted pork) for free.

I've heard two theories about the recent skyrocketing in price.

1. Typhoon season destroyed a lot of the cabbage and lettuce crops.
2. President Lee's "Four Rivers Project" is razing the countryside and causing too much degradation of farmland and nature.

Whatever the reason, I miss my kimchi.

It's Kimchi-Making Season!

Koreans traditionally prepared a large batch of kimchi before the weather got too cold, to last them through the winter. Nowadays, because of kimchi refrigerators and the year-round availability of cabbage, it isn't necessary. But it's tradition, so many people still follow it.

We visited my co-teacher Mrs. Lee's house to help her prepare their family's yearly batch. She had taped a large plastic sheet to her living room floor and piled a mound of salted cabbage on it, with two large bowls of red pepper sauce (prepared with red pepper powder, fish sauce, shrimp sauce, shrimp, radishes, white onions, and anchovies) and some gloves. She demonstrated the technique, even correcting her husband ("I am the kimchi expert"), and we dug right in. Mrs. Lee scolded me once for not using enough sauce, and then later, several times, for using too much. She said too much sauce overpowers the taste, and that she may end up hating me when she gets to my batch.


Mr. Lee cleaned off the plastic mat to reuse next year.
Mrs. Lee packed a giant tupperware container for us to take home, and stored the rest in her kimchi refrigerator.
We enjoyed the fruit of our labor with some steamed pork and cabbage pancakes.