Making Kimchi

Several Types of Kimchi

Kimchi is a fascinating thing.  It is a salt-pickled Korean vegetable dish often made primarily of Napa cabbage, but also made of daikon radish, cucumbers, spring onions and a wide variety of additional ingredients that create a range of flavor from spicy and hot to savory to mild and almost sweet.  Currently, there are over one hundred different varieties of kimchi and countless derivative dishes – from pancakes, omelets, and soups, to salads and stir fries and noodle dishes.  Additionally, there are forms eaten in times past that are not commonly enjoyed anymore.

Interestingly, most of the kimchi encountered in the west is of the spicy and hot variety, and its slang use in English reflects this.  We say we are in “deep kimchi” when we have troubles at work or in our personal lives.  People (often women) with fiery or violent social reactions are often said to have “kimchi tempers”.

Unfortunately some of this slang use of the word kimchi is used as derogatory to Asians.  The term “kimchi squat” is often used described the way many Asians sit with knees bent and feet flat on the floor, or “kimchi handshake” to describe the rapid handshake that is common (and not-well liked by westerners) in many parts of Asia.  Despite all that unpleasantness, kimchi isn’t always hot or spicy and varies quite a bit in flavor by where and how it is produced, the season of year it is made and how it is enjoyed once created.

Probably arising from Chinese suan cai a salted and fermented cabbage, kimchi started being produced in Korea during that country’s Three Kingdoms Period (57 – 668 ACE) and was made from vegetables soaked in beef broth and salt alone. The now distinctive red chili peppers, originating in North America were added only in the late 16th Century after they were introduced into Korea by the Japanese after the Hideyoshi Invasions.

In general, kimchi made in the north is less salty and spicy than that produced in the south. Often, kimchi produced in Northern coastal areas is flavored with fresh fish, shellfish and oysters, and kimchi from southern coastal areas uses salted fish or brined anchovies or shellfish to flavor savory kimchi varieties. In the middle parts of the peninsula there is a wide variation in the types of kimchis produced, and it is characteristic of production in the middle east to bury or ferment the kimchi for longer periods – lending a stronger flavor to the final product.

Although modern technology has obviated the need for kimchi production in strict accordance to the availability of seasonal vegetables, Koreans still tend to produce and eat kimchi according to seasonal tradition. The biggest kimchi producing season of the year is late autumn or early winter after the harvest has come in. Women will often get together to make kimchi together at this time – so, once again, it takes a village to make great kimchi. Salted Napa cabbage is a popular center for the kimchi and this is often supplemented by daikon, parsley, pinenuts, pears, lichen and sometimes red chili peppers (but sometimes not). In the middle part of the peninsula, it is also common to use pumpkin, squash or carrots as the kimchi center, although leeks and turnips are also used sometimes.

In the spring and summer, vegetables are pickled as they are harvested from the garden, often with lots of potherbs such as spinach, chard and fiddlehead ferns as well as other leafy greens used to flavor the kimchi of young radishes, cucumbers and early carrots etc. Kimchi made at this time is usually consumed quickly and not left to ferment for long periods of time, and so usually it has a milder flavor.

In the autumn, saltier, more savory or fishy varieties are commonly produced and enjoyed, with Napa cabbage being the most common center, although many other vegetables are also used.

Preparations for Making Kimchi

This past weekend I put up several different types of Napa cabbage Kimchi, some spicy, some sweet, some savory and some a bit fishy. I like the mild chili peppers now known as Korean chilis so all of my types had red chili pepper flakes in the paste, but I also used daikon radish in the spicier variety, chestnuts in a spicy and nutty concoction, nuoc mam and shrimp paste in the savory and fishy types and in what I think may be original variations: Fuji apples and pomegranate seeds for the sweet varieties. The jars are resting in the garage while the salt and spices work their fermenting magic for a few weeks.

Despite its reputation, making kimchi is really rather simple. Although it is somewhat messy and time consuming, it is well worth the effort if you are a fan of kimchi as I am. One of the things I like best about homemade kimchi is that it has much less salt than the average commercial product – which burns my mouth. I also like having different types of kimchi around so I can serve or enjoy spicy, sweet, nutty or savory varieties – most of which are unavailable on the western consumer market.

Basic Napa Cabbage Kimchi (with variations)

Main Ingredients
1 large Napa cabbage
¾ cup coarse sea salt
3 generous tablespoons garlic, peeled and minced (about 1 medium-large head)
2 generous tablespoons ginger, peeled and grated
1/3 – ½ cup Korean red pepper flakes
3 spring onions, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon salt

Secondary vegetable or fruit
1 6-8-inch long round of daikon radish, peeled and grated
1 Fuji apple or Korean pear, peeled and thinly sliced
1-1/2 cups of chestnuts, roasted and sliced
1 cup of pomegranate seeds

Other flavors
2-3 tablespoons Nuoc mam
1 1/2 -2 tablespoons shrimp paste*

Method
Fill a large vessel three-quarters full with warm-to-hot water. Add salt and stir to dissolve. Quarter cabbage and submerge in brine. Place a plate on top of the cabbage to keep most of it submerged and set aside for 1-3 hours depending on how crisp the cabbage was when cut. Stir occasionally to move the surface cabbage pieces below the brine. Move the cabbage several more times during the brining process to ensure even penetration of the brine into the cabbage.

When the brining is done, the cabbage should be supple, almost as if it had been parboiled. Drain the cabbage, reserving the brine. Shake or spin cabbage to remove excess brine.

Place the garlic, ginger, red pepper, spring onions, sugar, and salt into a large mixing bowl. Take about a cup or two of the brine and mix the red pepper combination into a thin paste. Let sit for 10-15 minutes to allow dried pepper flakes to absorb some of the brine. After that time has elapsed, add more brine if necessary to keep slightly watery consistency of the paste.

Add the cabbage – one bunch at a time – and work the paste all around each leaf until the leaves are evenly coated on both top and bottom. When you are done coating the leaves of each quarter, slightly run your fingers down the leaves and remove excess garlic and ginger on the leaves. It is important to leave some, but not too much on each leaf. Then place each bunch on a cutting board and cut the base of the bunch to separate the leaves. Then, if desired, cut the leaves in half crosswise, reducing the length of each leaf by about half.

If desired, you could place the cabbage leaves directly into clean, sterilized glass jars. Pack the pieces down as you go, but not too hard. As you near the top of each jar, add more brine if necessary to make sure that all of the pieces are bathed in liquid.

On the other hand, if you wish to add additional flavors such as daikon, carrots, apples, pears, chestnuts, pine nuts or fish or shrimp sauce, now is the time to do so. Place the grated or thinly sliced vegetables, fruits or nuts in between each cabbage leaf, or just a dab of fish or shrimp sauce on each leaf. When you have a stack that you can easily handle, slide it into the jar. Then layer the next set of leaves with the flavor and stack those into the jar, pressing down as you fill the jar. As above, fill jar with brine and seal.

Place the sealed jars in a cool, dark spot for at least three weeks to a month before using. Turn the jars upside down and then right them every few days to allow even distribution of the spices throughout the brine. Once unsealed, store the opened jars in the refrigerator or other cold place.

* If using the shrimp paste, saute it lightly and dab onto individual leaves, or mix with ground rice paste (roasted or unroasted) and then apply

Although it will be difficult, I will be anxiously waiting for the end of the month or early February when I can lace into some the the kimchi I made yesterday.  It is really quite delicious and healthy – containing lactobacillus, and lots of vitamins A and C, good quantities of iron and some of the B vitamins as well.  It also really works well as a central flavor for a meal as in a kimchi soup or omelet, or simply as one of several banchan on bountiful Korean table. ((Words and recipe by Laura Kelley; Photo of Several Types of Kimchi by ppy2010ha @Dreamstime.com; Photo of Preparations for Making Kimchi by Caroline Knox from Wikimedia).

N.B. There is apparently a Kimchi Museum in Seoul.  I am very much looking forward to visiting it, and will report back on it if I am able to make it there.

Autumn Means . . . A Bounty of Pumpkins and Squash!

I love this time of year! I love the blustery days and the chilly evenings and snuggling under blankets to keep warm. I love the cacophony of colors offered up by the deciduous trees, and of course, I love the panoply of fall produce – my favorite of which are pumpkins and squash.

They are just so beautiful – all the shapes: round, oval, flattened, tubular, and fluted like an amber bead, or goose-necked, with bumps and warts and all. And the colors – warm shades of orange, ochre, yellow and deep earthy green – some striped, some with a gradation of color fading from one into the next. Such variation in color and shape – and flavor! There are so many ways to prepare pumpkins and squash, that it seems unfortunate that we generally relegate these vegetables to pies or soup. All too often with the familiar triumvirate of spices – cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves and more often than not – too much sugar.

Autumn Pumpkins

By themselves, many pumpkins and squash are already quite sweet and don’t need much sugar to make their flavors really shine. My two favorites – the Butternut and the Kabocha – are amongst the sweetest. I often use them to temper dishes with sour flavors offered by pomegranates, sour grapes, lemons, or limes.

Across the Asian continent there are a myriad of ways to prepare pumpkin and squash. As main dishes, many cultures stuff them – with rice, or a combination of meat and grains. They appear mixed with curries, stews and braised meat dishes. They are layered in casseroles, topped with sauces, curried, stir-fried and coated with spices and baked. However they are prepared, they are another gift of the New World to the Old and have been dearly embraced since their introduction only a few hundred years ago.

In Western Asia, they can be stuffed with marigold petals or pomegranate seeds in Georgia, layered in an Armenian casserole called Ailazan; baked with eggs in an omelet called a “kuku” (after the Persian work for egg) or braised with fowl or lamb in a delectable cardamom and pomegranate sauce in Iran, used as a stuffing for pastries or prepared with tomatoes and sour grapes in Afghanistan.

In South Asia, pumpkin and squash are curried in rich ginger and garlic-laden sauces, baked and pounded into dips with or without yogurt, used in rice pilafs, mixed with pulses for dals, mixed with seed spices (such as fenugreek, onion, mustard and poppy), cumin, a handful of chili peppers and lemon juice in sweet and spicy dish, and sweetened with coconut cream.

The Central Asians use squash in casseroles like Damlyama flavored with copious amounts of cumin and black pepper, stuff them with their own pulp flavored with tarragon and lemon or nuts, sour cherries and nutmeg and pepper or baked with cinnamon and black pepper, or cooked with tamarind, fenugreek leaves and garlic.

In the Himalayas, the Bhutanese have delectable pumpkin fritters spiced with cumin and use squash or pumpkin layered in their biryani, the Nepali have their Tarkari curries with garlic, ginger and lots of cilantro, the Tibetans coat squash slices in chickpea or lentil flour spiced with chili peppers, star anise, lots of black pepper and some cinnamon and fry the slices until golden, and the Burmese have make a stew of them with shrimp and soy sauce, lime juice, ginger and garlic and lots of pungent peppers. And in the Indo Pacific, one of the most common ways to prepare them are using a tomato-based sauce flavored with sweet soy, vinegar, nutmeg and pepper.

Pumpkin Curry

In the far-east, the Korean’s have their black-peppered squash cooked with soy, ginger and garlic and garnished with sesame seeds. The Japanese cook them similarly using sweet soy or a soy-ginger sauce, and in Southern China there is fish-flavored eggplant named after the method of preparation with brown bean paste, fish sauce and rice vinegar, often used to cook fish. In Thailand, pumpkins or squash are used to flavor the rich spicy curries and are used with a variety of meats or cooked rapidly in a stir-fry with lots of spicy Thai basil, or cooked with crushed black peppercorns, lemon juice and fish sauce to form a rich sour sauce around a sweet kabocha squash. The Cambodians use squash in mixed vegetable stews and stir fries, and use them with in stews with beef, coconut milk, and their ginger-spice paste called Kroeung, the thick fish sauce tuk prahok and lots of Kaffir lime leaves. And lastly in Vietnam, squash and pumpkin are sometimes enjoyed with stir-fried with lemongrass and peanuts, and roasted and pounded into a dip with lime juice, fish sauce and basil.

Certainly not an exhaustive list of Asian pumpkin and squash recipes, but ones that reach far beyond the familiar flavors of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves and too much sugar, and all of which are available in the Silk Road Gourmet volumes already published or yet to come.

So enjoy our seasonal bounty of pumpkins and squash, but think outside the box and try an unfamiliar recipe or two. You may discover a favorite vegetable you’ve never tried before – like the Sri Lankan curry posted below. (Words by Laura Kelley. Photo of Autumn Pumpkins by Haywiremedia @ Dreamstime.com; Photo of Pumpkin Curry by Sarsmis @ Dreamstime.com. Recipe in Silk Road Gourmet Volume 2).

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Curried Pumpkin in a Ginger-Garlic Sauce

This curry is sour, sweet, and hot due to its curry leaves, vinegar, coconut milk, sugar, and ground chili peppers. Blended together, these flavors make this dish quintessentially Sri Lankan, but it also complements a wide variety of other cuisines as well.

Ingredients
1 medium butternut squash or small kabocha pumpkin, peeled, sliced and seeded
2 tablespoons oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
½ teaspoon turmeric powder
1 teaspoon cumin powder
1 teaspoon coriander powder
1 teaspoon whole mustard seeds, ground
2 teaspoons garlic, peeled and diced
1 tablespoon grated ginger
½ cup coconut milk
1 teaspoon chopped chili peppers
10 curry leaves, crushed
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons sugar

Method
Preheat oven to 375°. Place sliced squash or pumpkin on an oiled or sprayed baking sheet and when the oven is hot, bake for 20–25 minutes. Remove from oven, cool, and slice into quarters or eighths, depending on the size of the slice.

Heat oil in a medium sauté pan and sauté onion until it softens and starts to color. Add the turmeric, cumin, coriander, and mustard and stir for a couple of seconds. Add the garlic, ginger, coconut milk,
chilies, and curry leaves.

Add the vinegar, salt, and sugar and bring slowly to a boil. Add the squash or pumpkin pieces, stir, and simmer on a low heat for 5 minutes until the pumpkin is warmed.

Korean-BBQ Birthday at Honey Pig

Honey Pig – Interior

This year, for the first autumn birthday, we took the family and a guest to a nearby Korean barbeque that has gotten some great reviews. Honey Pig really is a small slice of South Korea tucked into the DC suburbs. From its dark and industrial-styled interior to its straightforward, unembellished service and the thumping pop on the sound system it feels like stepping into another country when one enters this restaurant. Tucked into a small shopping center the lines to get in can sometime wrap around the building. It’s mostly Asian and Asian-American clientele are also a credit to the authenticity of the food.

When we visited, we were lucky enough to just walk in and be seated at a nearby table with a built-in gas range to cook our dishes on. After ordering from their simple but sufficient menu, we started with a nicely variant banchan consisting of Kimchi of both Napa cabbage and cucumber; a green salad with a spicy soy dressing; a delicate lightly sweet radish preparation that resembled pickled ginger but that had a light, refreshing flavor (Musaengchae); a spinach dressed with sesame oil, garlic and soy sauce (Siegumuchi namul); Kongnamul, the parboiled bean sprouts with sesame oil and something I’ve never seen before and don’t know the name, but it was sort of a Korean cole-slaw with what tasted like a dilute mayonnaise dressing. I’m going to find out more about this dish and wonder if it is a Korean-American creation. In addition to the seven banchan, they served a Gyeran Jiim of light and frothy steamed eggs in a hot pot that was heavenly. My husband and I split an ice-cold bottle of Bek-Se-Ju which if you’ve never had it is an herbed rice wine that tastes more like a slightly thickened chamomile tea than alcohol. It also contains the adaptogen schizandra that I’ve written about in other posts.

Korean Kimchi

Utensils (sujeo) consisted of the Korean long-handled spoon and chop sticks – which for the kids still learning how to use them were connected at the top to make it easier for them to pick items up. Fresh lettuce leaves were also available for those wishing to wrap portions of their meals. We enjoyed the banchan and cajoled the kids into trying some while the wait staff prepared and started to cook our meals. The girls shared long looks when the waitress came over with a pair of industrial scissors to cut down the bits of cooking meat into bite-size pieces. Each dish was also cooked with plenty of thinly sliced garlic to heighten the flavor of the grilled dishes and there was steamed rice all round.

My husband and I shared a delicious pork and octopus dish sautéed with onions and in red chili sauce (gochuchang), the girls shared a fiery chicken dish also cooked in red chili sauce and my son with his more delicate taste went for a marinated beef bulgogi that was gently flavored with a light soy-based sauce. My son also ordered Doenjang Jigae – a traditional soup that was gently flavored with on-the-bone beef and plenty of greens and onions, and we all sampled the Kimchi stew.

Korean Steamed Eggs

I have mostly praise for Honey Pig, if there were issues, the octopus was a little tough – which could be easily remedied by cooking it less and I’d like to see a bit less red-chili sauce on the dishes – which were in my opinion, swimming in it. Next time we go – and there will be a next time – we’ll sample the more traditional galbi or short ribs and samgyeopsal – unsalted pork belly (bacon).

For those living in or visiting the Baltimore/DC area, this restaurant is a casual taste of the food and food-culture of Korean peninsula and manages to be both funky and family friendly (and baby friendly based on the presence of the Korean baby at the table next to us) at the same time. I recommend it as the best suburban Korean BBQ I’ve been to so far, and hope that as their success builds, they begin to offer an even more varied menu. Always, I hope it remains a secret door into Korean food culture that one can experience without the thirteen hour flight time. (Words by Laura Kelley; Photo of Honey Pig Restaurant by the owner; Photo of Kimchi and Steamed Eggs from Wikimedia).

Honey Pig (Gooldaegee) on Urbanspoon

Schizandra – the Five Flavor Fruit

Schizandra Berries

In answer to a question recently posed to me by the New Belgium Brewing Company in Fort Collins, Colorado, this week’s offering on the blog is a primer on the food uses of Schizandra – berries widely used in China, the Koreas and Japan for coloring and flavor in food and beverages.Schizandra berries are the fruits of the magnolia Schizandra chinensis or Schizandra sphenanthera that are widely used throughout China, Korea and Japan in traditional medicine tonics and infusions. Since 1958, when Polish scientists publishing in the Journal of Physiology (Paris) started to characterize Schizandra for the west, this long-kept secret wonder of the orient has begun to be appreciated for its antioxidant, anticancer and overall health benefits as an “adaptogen” here at home.

What is less well known in the west, however, is how common an ingredient Schizandra is in traditional Chinese and Korean cuisines where it is appreciated for the tangy, astringent flavor and bright red color the dried fruits offer to foods and beverages. Eaten fresh, it is called wu-wei-zi in China, which means “five-flavor fruit,” because it tantalizes the taste buds with four basic flavors—sweet, sour, salty, and bitter—plus pungency. Used for thousands of years because of its health benefits as well as its flavors it is still widely enjoyed in the east in wine, juice, tea, soup, jellies and jams and rice cakes.

Wine and Alcohol

Bek-se-ju

The most popular rice wine on the Korean market is a wine infused with Schizandra and eleven other herbs such as ginseng, liquorice, wolfberries, astragalus, ginger, and cinnamon. Called Bek-Se Ju or Hundred-Years Wine it is thought to increase longevity. Enjoyed chilled, in a specially designed, flared glass, Bek-Se Ju is a white wine with a delightful attitude.

Because of its distinct flavor, Bek-Se Ju pairs well with spicy or hot appetizers, and is refreshing with grilled or barbequed foods. In addition, there are many traditional Chinese homebrew recipes that use Schizandra for flavor and color. For example:

1 ounce of dried Schizandra berries
1 cup rice wine or other ethyl alcohol
¾ cup water

Combine the water and wine and then add the dried Schizandra. Cover and shake well. Let sit covered for at least 1 week, shaking once a day. Strain and serve chilled.

 

 

Juices and Teas

Another traditional Korean beverage that uses Schizandra for flavor and color is omija hwache, offered as a cooling welcome to guests or dining companions. One recipe is:

Schizandra Tea

2 liters of water, plain or carbonated
1/4 cup of dried Schizandra berries
2 cups mixed fruits (apples, nectarines, strawberries, kiwi, melons)
4 tablespoons honey

Add Schizandra berries to the water. Cover or seal and let sit overnight in the refrigerator. Stir or shake several times while the berries are steeping. When ready to serve, slice or cube fruit and mix with the Schizandra water. Stir in the honey and let sit before serving cold.  (A traditional spring variation of this is called jindallae hwachae and has edible azalaeas taking the place of the sliced fruit in the recipe above.)

Chiberry

In the United States, Chang Farm near Amherst, Massachusetts sells a Schizandra-berry juice marketed as Chiberry. The beautiful rosy-colored juice is a light, tart beverage refreshing beverage that I personally enjoy (bear in mind I also love unsweetened cranberry and pomegranate juice especially if mixed with orange juice). Both Koreans and Chinese also enjoy Schizandra as a tea either as a solo ingredient or mixed with other black or green tea leaves.

One recipe for plain Schizandra tea is:
5 grams of dried Schizandra berries
1 liter hot water
3 tablespoons honey

Roast and crush the Schizandra berries and infuse with hot water. Wait for 3-5 minutes and then add honey to taste and serve.

 

Soups

In addition to using Schizandra in beverages, the Chinese and Koreans also use it to flavor and color soups. A traditional Cantonese recipe for it that can be found in the cookbook “A Tradition of Soup” by Teresa Chen and Martin Yan calls for:

2 ounces Schizandra seeds
1 cup rock crystal sugar
1 teaspoon pinenuts (whole or ground)
4 cups plain rice soup *

Soak the Schizandra in 2 cups of water for 8-12 hours. Strain the liquid through a cheesecloth or fine strainer and set aside. Dissolve the sugar in 1 cup of water. Stir in the Schizandra liquid until evenly mixed. Pour the sweetened Schizandra liquid into the plain rice soup. Add pinenuts and stir well. Serve hot or warm.

Variation: Use hot, sweet Schizandra broth to make noodles

* Plain rice soup is made by bringing about 3 quarts of water to a boil. Adding 1 cup of long or short grain rice and stirring well. Bring the rice back to a boil and cook over high heat for 30 minutes stirring occasionally. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook uncovered for 2 hours – stirring occasionally.

Rice Cakes

Schizandra berries are also commonly used in traditional, sweet, pan-fried Korean rice cakes called juak as stuffing along with other fruits such as jujubes, wolfberries and nuts such as ginko or chestnuts or sesame seeds. One recipe for pan-fried rice cakes is:

2 cups glutinous rice powder
Water to moisten
2 cups jujubes
½ cup Schizandra berries (fresh or dried and soaked in water)
½ cup chestnuts, roasted and grated or finely diced
4 tablespoons light sesame oil or other nut-oil for cooking
½ cup honey

Pound and roll jujubes until they form a sheet of fruit. Add water to rice powder to make a sticky dough. Knead dough for 3-5 minutes, then break off pieces and flatten into discs about 2-3 inches in diameter. Place a piece of the jujube roll onto one of the rice disks. Then add 2 Schizandra berries and top with grated chestnuts. Top with a second rice disk and seal tightly with your fingers.

Heat oil in a sauté pan and sauté rice cake for 3 minutes per side. When done, remove from pan and drain on paper towels. Top with a dollop of honey and more nuts or seeds if desired. Let drain and rest before serving at room temperature.

Once again the line between food and medicine is blurred with Schizandra, and once again the west is finally catching up with good science to support the traditional use of this fruit. In recent years, antimicrobial substances have been identified in the fruit and it has been found to increase the bioavailability of several classes of drugs – including those that reduce rejection in transplant recipients. There are other, darker potential uses of the berry which cannot be discussed here, but suffice it to say the proof is in the decocting time and temperature. So, if you venture into making your own Schizandra foods or beverages, respect it, and – don’t cook it too long or at too high a heat. (Words by Laura Kelley).