For as long as I can remember, around this time at the end of the year, my parents and I would drive to my grandparents’ house in rural Korea to celebrate kimjang. For those unfamiliar with kimjang, it’s the communal act of preparing and serving kimchi, a Korean staple made with salted, fermented vegetables. It is most commonly made with cabbage. Kimchi provides multiple health benefits, including probiotics and vitamins that are further strengthened through fermentation.
Unlike the Korean version of Thanksgiving — Chuseok — or the Lunar New Year, kimjang does not have a set date. The quality of napa cabbages from that year’s harvest dictates when kimjang is practiced, so it depends on the traditions of every individual family.
As soon as my dad parks his car in the front yard and pops open his trunk, I’m usually met with five large buckets filled with cabbages, freshly harvested just a few days ago. My halmeoni — or grandmother in English — would’ve already sprinkled sea salt on all the cabbages with the help of my aunts and uncles. The salt draws out the water from the cabbages, leaving them with a crisp taste. I vividly remember my short conversations with my halmeoni — the way she would wave her hands at me, pat my back and wonder how many batches of kimchi she should make this year.
With the cabbages ready, my family members would sit in a circle — indoors if the wind was too harsh but outside if it was still sunny and warm. We all knew what to do. In sync, we would put on plastic gloves and use a rubber band to tighten them around our wrists and prevent contamination. We would then put on another layer of rubber gloves so our hands would not turn red and smell like gochugaru, Korean red pepper flakes.
With small dishes that contained pre-made kimchi sauce ar our sides, we gently rubbed the sauce on each cabbage leaf.
While doing all this, we would catch up with each other — how school was going, what work was like, what our plans were for the new year. Despite being small-talk, these questions showed the affection and care we had for each other. My halmeoni, although not much of a storyteller, would listen to her grandchildren with a gentle smile on her face.
It usually takes well over two hours for the entire family to finish the process, but it never felt too long because I felt great gratitude spending time with them. During the kimjang, my mom and aunts would head over to the kitchen to prepare steamed pork belly — a perfect pairing with a freshly made batch of kimchi. We cherished the delectable combination and found gratitude in the fact that we could be together.
Once we were done with kimjang, halmeoni would pack those batches into vacuum containers so that she could give them out to her children. She never tried to keep the kimchi for herself, instead using it to show her affection by giving it to her children.
This winter is the first kimjang season without halmeoni as she passed away a few days after this year’s Thanksgiving holiday. Kimjang will never be the same without her, and I can promise that I will share her love language of kimchi with future generations.
As is the case with most global cuisines, each family carries different traditions, so the recipe below is an homage to my halmeoni and the rich tradition that she kept throughout her entire life.
Making the base sauce for the kimchi is the part that each family takes pride in because the kimchi flavor comes out to be very different depending on the source and ratio of the ingredients. As is the case with most global cuisines, each family carries different traditions, so the sauce recipe my family follows is an homage to my halmeoni and the rich tradition that she kept throughout her entire life.
According to halmeoni’s recipe, you can use the following measurements for each cabbage: one cup of chopped scallions, half a cup of green onion stalk chunks, half a cup of finely grinded gochugaru, three tablespoons of minced garlic and ginger, one tablespoon of fermented shrimp or anchovy sauce and half a cup of diced onions. All of these ingredients should ideally be locally sourced. As such, kimjang is not a single step but rather an accumulation of the year-round effort of planting and harvesting.
I recommend wearing plastic or rubber gloves when rubbing the surface of each cabbage leaf with the sauce since it leaves a quite strong smell and stain that you don’t want on your hands — trust me, I have been there. Once these cabbages are beautifully packed with red sauce, you can either chop them up and serve them right away with soft, steamed pork or put them in a container and refrigerate.
Both kimchi and kimjang are not only a tribute to my halmeoni’s unconditional love towards her children and grandchildren, but are also a reiteration of Korean family traditions and harmony with nature. Hopefully, my halmeoni’s recipe can carry on her love language for generations to come.
Contact Daeun Lee at [email protected].