Our love affair with kimchi began when we were living in Sydney about 14 years ago. Australia's firm and vibrant Korean movement really made a huge impression on us - what with Korean barbecue, luscious oyster pancakes, "stone pot" rice with a flair of gooey egg, but above all the humble but punkish kimchi. In the last year, Korean food has also become especially trendy in London thanks to Judy Joo; not that Korean food was non-existent in London before, but there was no celebrity chef sexing it up and peddling it up-market gentrified style, in the JinJoo (Judy's new restaurant) way.
Homemade kimchi itself needs no additional sexing up of course. It is tangy and spicy, served cold / room temperature but still gives you that warm burn. When living in Australia, we would keep bottles of this in the fridge, to satiate ferocious kimchi-pangs, but with the discovery of our intolerances, kimchi which is bought usually contains some sort of gluten, yeast and other un-freetarian friendly ingredients. With that, my god daughter's grandmother made us home made kimchi, and I am renewed in everything that I am. When I asked for the recipe, the reply was that which is common amongst great cooks, "no recipe is required, a little (or a lot) of this and that". Typical.
No great cook, I did jot down the key ingredients in hopes of recreating it myself. I understand that there are three key stages to it: the salting of the cabbage, the marinating, and the fermentation process. The beauty of it all is that I do love things super-spiced, and I am not kidding here - in an Asian restaurant once, a colleague of mine, also a spice-fiend, ate my leftover laksa noodle soup which I had asked to be specially tailored for me, and had an immediate nose bleed from sheer spicyness... he never made that mistake again.
For a spiced up life, but do be warned!
No great cook, I did jot down the key ingredients in hopes of recreating it myself. I understand that there are three key stages to it: the salting of the cabbage, the marinating, and the fermentation process. The beauty of it all is that I do love things super-spiced, and I am not kidding here - in an Asian restaurant once, a colleague of mine, also a spice-fiend, ate my leftover laksa noodle soup which I had asked to be specially tailored for me, and had an immediate nose bleed from sheer spicyness... he never made that mistake again.
For a spiced up life, but do be warned!
Ingredients:
1 chinese cabbage
1 cup sea salt (450gms)
2 tablespoon cornstarch dissolved in 150ml water
1 tablespoon brown sugar
2 heads garlic, chopped
1 piece ginger, palm of a toddle sized, chopped
1/2 cup fish sauce
2 1/2 cups Gochugaru (Korean dried red chili flakes, but if not, supermarket chili flakes would be ok) - reduce by 1 1/2 cups if too spicy
2 cups brined shrimps
1 bunch Asian chives / green onions, julienned
1 large carrot julienned
1 large horseradish julienned (optional)
Preparation method:
Quarter the cabbage lengthways and rub salt into every crevice / layer of the cabbage. Leave for two hours, turning every 30 minutes to make sure the salt is evenly distributed. In the mean time, dissolve sugar in the cornstarch and water mixture. In a food processor, blend the garlic, ginger, fish sauce, chilies and shrimp (including the brine) for a minute and add in the sugar cornstarch mixture to loosen. Pour the paste into a large mixing bowl and add in carrots, chives and horseradish. Carefully rinse off the salt and allow the cabbage to drain before adding it into the mixing bowl. Ensure the paste smothers the cabbage leaves, rubbing it in between the leaves. Leave to ferment for 24 hours in a closed container / jar and then refrigerate. Use within 2 weeks - NOTE: As the fermentation process continues even whilst in the fridge, be mindful that the kimchi might explode, so do try to use within 2 weeks.
Serve with toasted sesame seeds sprinkled atop, next to steak, atop polenta and even plain old porridge. Yum.
