Chef forges farm-to-table relationships with local farmers for sustainable Jeju cuisine

Chef Kang Byung-wook poses in front of his Korean fusion bistro, "Last Spring," located on the shore of Gimnyeong in northeastern Jeju, Oct. 20. Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul

Chef designs premium meals with fresh and unique, organic ingredients from Jeju

By Park Han-sol

JEJU ISLAND ― "So, how was the butternut squash that you got from our farm last time? Any good?"

Inside a greenhouse nestled in Jeju's southwestern town of Daejeong-eup, farmer Yang Kyung-ae eagerly asked chef Kang Byung-wook, who was looking around the vibrant rows of butterhead lettuce, broccolini, okra, chicory, wild arugula, beet and cucumber.

"I cooked the vegetable sous vide after dicing it. The pieces were quite soft, but I'd say that they got less and less sweet as I further bit into them," Kang said after some thought.

"I knew it," Yang replied. "I grew them in this greenhouse, but squash and pumpkins are supposed to taste better if they are grown outdoors. I'm thinking of planting some in the field right outside next year."

The conversation between Kang and Yang about the butternut squash is neither a one-off encounter nor a chat held just to kill time.

In fact, Kang is a regular visitor of this farm, named "Gollaegi" (meaning "twins" in Jeju dialect) after the farmer's twin daughters. It is known among the locals as a small-batch, chemical-free farm with diverse products ― perfect for chefs like Kang to sample a variety of ingredients in one sitting.

Nearly every Tuesday or Wednesday, which are his days off, he comes to the greenhouse to inspect the crops, provide Yang detailed feedback on the taste and current demand of the planted vegetables ― and most importantly, to get his supply of locally sourced, organic vegetables.

Chef Kang Byung-wook, right, talks with farmer Yang Kyung-ae about her produce grown at her greenhouse nestled in Jeju's southwestern town of Daejeong-eup. Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol

It's a win-win relationship between both parties in more ways than one, the 33-year-old chef said.

"Sometimes, when I want a new type of ingredient for my menu, I show a picture of it to Ms. Yang and ask her if she can grow it in her field. Since she runs a small-batch farm, if she finds the task feasible, she'll do it. And occasionally, if she has extra produce that needs to be used soon, I purchase them and incorporate them in a seasonal menu or as a complimentary side dish at my restaurant."

After inquiries about the farm's plans for next year, tasting some freshly picked rainbow beets and moving bags of packed vegetables into his car, Kang finally leaves the farm. From here, an hour-and-a-half drive across the island all the way to the shore of Gimnyeong in northeastern Jeju takes him back to his Korean fusion bistro, "Last Spring," where he serves as the executive chef.

Right outside the restaurant, waves rhythmically lap against the black basalt rocks ― a signature feature of the island that was formed from violent volcanic activity in the distant past. There is also a natural attraction called Cheonggulmul, a peculiar, bucket-shaped pool by the sea that blasts out cold spring water.

Watching this scenic view through the windows, the bistro's customers can enjoy the seasonal menu ― which, during the month of October, include a Sargassum fusiforme (also known in Korean as "tot," a type of brown algae) snack, traditional Jeju tofu, jamon made from Jeju Black pig and an assortment of fresh herbs and vegetables.

As indicated by their names, most of the ingredients in Kang's dishes are locally sourced.

"When I visited Jeju three years ago on a business trip, I was shocked at the sheer number of ingredients that I never knew were being produced in Korea," he recalled, adding that many plants and seafood that he, as someone who studied Japanese cuisine, thought originated from Japan ― like myoga ginger ― were native to the island.

"The island suddenly seemed like a playground for a chef like me. I couldn't help but want to share this story and experience with others."

This moment of epiphany eventually led him to move from Seoul to settle in Jeju and open a restaurant ― at first in the western town of Aewol-eup, and now in Gimnyeong.

Kang grates cheese as the finishing touch for his dish of fig, wild arugula and jamon made from Jeju Black pig. Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul

"I try to use as little Western ingredients as possible in my dishes ― except for butter and cheese ― instead replacing them with Jeju's native produce. Developing each menu item then becomes a laborious process, since I have to be on the constant lookout for proper substitutes across the whole island," he said.

But the positive responses from his customers, who are surprised to see new specialty dishes from the island besides the standard Jeju Black pork belly and grilled cutlassfish, are what keep him going to this day.

Becoming a chef wasn't always his dream, however.

Originally wanting to become a soldier, Kang dropped out of college after his freshman year and joined the army as a military police officer. But he became critically injured during a training session one day that dealt a crushing blow to his life goal. Feeling lost and hopeless, he eventually turned to cooking and enrolled at a culinary school.

"One of the reasons I was drawn to cooking was because the kitchen felt like a miniature, social version of the army," he said. "The whole system depends on strict hierarchy because one mistake or failure to follow an order can injure or even kill a person. Head chefs, therefore, have to be leaders. Such an environment suited my physical and mental constitution."

While attending culinary school, Kang made another life-changing decision. Instead of choosing to graduate according to the regular course structure, in 2012, he decided to travel overseas to knock on the doors of world-renowned fine dining restaurants to see if any would be willing to accept him as a trainee despite language barriers.

For him, who was already behind the start line compared to other students at his school due to his age, the only way to outdo them was to start from the bottom in a foreign land without relying on others' help.

First he arrived in Hong Kong. Carrying a bag in his hand, he printed out dozens of his resumes at a local stationery store and gave them to any Michelin-starred restaurant he could find. After weeks of trying, he was eventually hired, and soon, his week became divided into two parts: five days of working at one eatery and two days of training in another one without pay.

For seven years, he trained and worked in a number of acclaimed restaurants in Hong Kong, Qatar and the United Arab Emirates, including: Zuma in Dubai, Nobu at the Four Seasons Hotel in Qatar and the three Michelin-starred L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon in Hong Kong.

Kang prepares a dish of colorful beets at his bistro, "Last Spring." Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul

It was while working abroad that he turned his eyes to the appeal of Korean food, especially its fermentation practices ― a field he deliberately avoided in the past after growing up in a traditional patriarchal head family and watching his mother cook laboriously in a gigantic "gamasot," or iron pot, every holiday.

"Working with people from all over the world, I realized that my culinary strength should be based on Korean food," he noted. "And the more I learned about the traditions of fermentation practices, where the food's flavor can vary widely depending on even the slightest changes in climate, temperature and the types of ingredients, the more I became fascinated with it."

After seven years of working overseas, Kang returned to Korea and eventually began to develop his own fusion menu, based on traditional Korean food with touches of Japanese, French, Italian and other Western cooking practices that he learned along the way.

It was also around this time that he started taking an interest in incorporating sustainable culinary practices and natural, unadulterated ― and therefore what some may consider less attractive ― produce in his dishes.

"While working in big fine dining restaurants, I witnessed just how much perfectly good food was being thrown away due to the principle of selectivity ― 90 percent of an ingredient, in an extreme case."

He came to believe that a chef like him should fully utilize the ingredients born from the sweat and tears of farmers. He saw organic, non-chemical agricultural methods to be the best reflection of their labor.

"There is a saying that really resonated with me: crops know the sounds of their owners' footsteps," he said. "They are grown in the healthiest way when farmers come to the field every day and attentively care for them. And of course, chemical-free methods require a tremendous amount of work and care. In the end, the taste of pesticide-free produce is bound to be different from other ones."

A cucumber growing at farmer Yang Kyung-ae's greenhouse / Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol

To obtain such organic products, it is important for Kang to maintain a direct and regular communication line with farmers like Yang. Currently, he visits around six farms on the island regularly to get a supply of honey, potato, kohlrabi, basil and tomato, among other vegetables.

"Since I arrived on Jeju, I've seen so many farmers who say they want to give up organic farming, because although it requires much more labor, the valued price of the produce is not much different from that of regular farms."

He recalled one tragic case in 2019 of a farming couple who could not sell more than 200 tons of their organic produce and ended up taking their own lives. When he visited the farm later to help salvage and sell the vegetables, according to the couple's will, he saw that the sheer amount of crops could not even be contained in a storage space and were even rolling on the ground in the neighboring cattle pen.

One way Kang believes he can be of help to organic farmers on Jeju is to provide regular feedback on the quality of their produce, so that they can devise more suitable production methods and take pride in their work.

Occasionally, he hosts special events at his own restaurant, inviting farmers to see and sample for themselves how their crops have been transformed into a finely cooked dish.

Kang's dish of colorful beets and roasted herbs / Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul

"My 15-year-old twin daughters, who hate coming to the farm, saw how beets and wild arugula that I grew could be served as a delicious appetizer. The experience changed the way they looked at their own mother's work," said Yang.

While it was the Michelin-starred restaurants in other countries that helped young Kang develop his culinary passion, the chef's hope is to someday get such a star himself as the first Michelin-starred restaurant on Jeju Island ― including a newly established Green Star, which awards sustainability practices in terms of ethical and environmental standards.

Another project he has in mind is to continue down the road of discovering and preserving the old native recipes of the island.

"There are so many ingredients appearing in recipes that have been handed down through generations but that are gradually being forgotten. I think we are tasked with the duty to preserve, analyze and use them in our dishes."

That is why, he said, the full name of his bistro is "Last Spring: Jeju Food Laboratory."

An assortment of a butternut squash and beets placed on the black basalt rocks on the shore of Gimnyeong / Korea Times photo by Shim Hyun-chul