Kim Ji-soo joined The Korea Times in 2006, and worked on such desks as culture and politics and is currently a member of the Editorial Board. Previous workplaces include The Korea Herald and the Korea JoongAng Daily.
'Stinky version or the regular?'
Kimchi-making gettyimagesbank
By Kim Ji-soo
“Stinky version or the regular?” This was a question a friend asked when I asked if she had tried kimchi, the staple spicy Korean dish, at her home in Virginia, United States. I chose the former and ate it with homemade pork ribs. It was the “mugeunji” or long fermented pungent kimchi that Korean households often turn into kimchi stew or fried kimchi.
As a person who lived in the eastern United States in the late 1970s and early 1980s ― when Korea was a blip on the global map ― it's interesting to detect these subtle changes in perception about Korea. It's one way to gauge how the world sees Korea's “soft power,” which is now rallying strong. And personally, it's a quest to look for a more upbeat narrative about experiences of living in the days of racial discrimination. All in all, it's a long way from when kimchi was eaten only at home for dinner, for the smell of “garlic” can linger and kimchi jars were once secretly opened when dorm mates were not around.
Recent Korean figures seemed to validate this. According to a recent survey on “hallyu” overseas released March 10 by the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism, the Brand Power Index for Korean food was highest at 66 points, followed by Korean beauty items at 62.3 points and K-pop at 61.7. The overall Brand Power Index of Korean cultural content was 58.8.
Export figures attest to Korean food's surge in popularity. Last year's exports of agricultural and seafood items reached $12 billion, despite the overall gloom over global economic uncertainty.
The ambiance was a bit different from when the Korean government declared the globalization of Korean food in 2009 and when former U.S. first lady Michelle Obama disclosed her kimchi recipe in 2013. It's not only kimchi but people seem open to making kimchi themselves. Even the staple national Korean snack of tteokbokki, which I would compare to a spicy version of macaroni and cheese, is in the United States. The influences of Korean content, music, dramas and films have touched the taste buds.
While kimchi-making has been designated as intangible cultural heritage by UNESCO and the Korean government, the process is becoming more accessible. Taking cues from the tradition of kimchi-making being handed down from mother to daughter, more classes are opening for non-Koreans. Rather than complain about Korea's outbound tourism, perhaps now is the best time to attract more with physical classes.
The Museum Kimchikan, a type of field museum of kimchi located in downtown Seoul, holds classes for foreigners, taking reservations via email (
). The classes are mainly on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays for a fee of 30,000 won ($23) per person. An early reservation is needed as the ingredients have to be purchased beforehand.
The Cultural Corps of Korean Buddhism ― under Korea's largest Buddhist order of Jogye ― also operates cooking classes. The sect is well-known for its temple food prowess having master chefs such as Vens. Seonjae and Jeongkwan under its fold. While they refrain from holding kimchi-making classes during warm months, the cooking classes can include making kimchi-style vegetable dishes.
The appreciation of Korean food is a delightful find. There hopefully is less angst now when people open their kimchi jars ― and let that apply to any national food dishes of the world. Finally, the labor of desperation that blossomed into a labor of love as the moms or “ajummas” picked, washed, salted, marinated and then preserved them in large earthenware pots or “onggi” to last the family through the harsh Korean winter days is receiving rays of gratitude.
The writer (janee@ktimes.com
) is a member of The Korea Times editorial board.