When life gives you sour people, make kimchi #ancientKoreanproverb

A quick way to redirect crappy mojo

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A few weeks ago, I shared on Instagram how—in the face of an insulting and rather humorless email from someone about my podcast—I decided to redirect that crappy mojo by shining a light on people and things that lifted my spirits.

Lifting up others is a true mood boost for me. After I posted, a friend told me this move was like watching Wonder Woman stop a car and use its own weight to propel it in a new direction—kind of like below, though I would be smiling.

I recommend you go to that post to see some of the things I shared. And I want to go deeper with a story about residual joy inspired by one of the mood boosters I shared.

The first mojo redirection slide is about my friend Ilyon Woo, and how her post about kimchi made me want to try making kimchi again. Ever eloquent—I mean, girl is a Pulitzer Prize winning author (read more about her book and our wild historical family connection)—she wrote on Instagram:

Energy preserved (or pickled), spiced.

Made to nourish, gifted to comfort.

A story of my ancestors, passed down in a jar. Pungent.

Thank you, Umma.

Now I need to learn to make it right, give it back.

The last time I made kimchi was when I lived in Canada, which would mean around 25 years ago. I was working on my Ph.D. and also delighting in learning to cook and bake. However, my kimchi making effort was challenged by a few things. First, recipe sourcing wasn’t what it was now. The slim Korean cookbook I found at the local bookstore was written by a white person (lol) and food blogs were not a thing. Second, I was not living in a bustling, diverse metropolis. Kingston, Ontario was pretty white bread at the time, and finding scallions at the grocery store was a miracle, much less Korean specialty items. Third, when I did hack together a batch, it was massive and not great (i.e., not worth sharing), so it felt like a huge wasted effort and I wasn’t motivated to try again.

Fast forward to present day: Since my unexpected summer wellness transformation I have been eating more kimchi, largely sourced from my Mom, who no longer makes it but has plenty of suppliers through her church. I believe my last two jars came from the pastor’s wife, so Ilyon’s post made me think about how nice it would be to try to find a great recipe, make something that meets my Mom’s approval, then gift a jar back to the pastor’s wife.

I pulled Eric Kim’s Korean American cookbook off my shelf to peruse the kimchi options and my mind was blown that the anchor kimchi recipe he shares is his mom Jean’s recipe. Why? Because in my experience, Korean moms don’t measure things and sometimes omit a key ingredient or crucial step.

The other notable thing is that Kim writes that if there’s one recipe you make out of his cookbook, it is his mom’s kimchi, given that kimchi is not only an ever present side, but an anchor to so many other Korean dishes. With this high praise in mind, I braced myself for HMART by doing the following things:

• Made a short shopping list to keep me focused (OMG so many things at HMART).

• Googled then downloaded pictures of Korean labels for the items that were not familiar to me (e.g., green plum syrup, salted shrimp). I can read Korean characters but I wanted visual backup in case of overwhelm.

• Wore sturdy sneakers given that I have been rammed by a shopping cart driven by an adorable halmoni more than once at HMART.

As it turned out, HMART was very chill on a holiday Monday around 9am and I was surprised to find myself not at all overwhelmed. I delighted in finding all the ingredients on my own and leaving with my shins intact. And I was so excited to get cranking on the kimchi. Here are some observations from the process:

1. Eric Kim and HMART should create an adorable kimchi package partnership

The recipe calls for four pounds of Napa cabbage so imagine my delight to find just what I needed already wrapped and ready to go amidst the single heads of cabbage. I don’t know if kimchi recipes often call for four pounds of cabbage (hence pre-wrapped Napa), but this felt like fate. And my marketing brain immediately conjured an adorable kimchi package partnership between Eric Kim and HMART, where shoppers can buy boxes loaded with all of the produce and shelf ingredients one needs to make Jean’s kimchi recipe so it’s easy to just pop in, grab a box, and go.

2. Humility is a beautiful part of trying anything new

I am pretty sure I made a mistake straight up in step 1, by cutting off the ends of the cabbage before quartering them. I think ideally, the intact root end helps hold the quartered “kimchi baby” bundles together, which I didn’t realize until it was time to coat the cabbage in sauce. All of my quarters fell apart, but I approximated and it seemed to work out fine.

3. I am so very grateful for ingredient access

My experience at HMART couldn’t have been more different than at that A&P grocery store in Kingston, Ontario circa 1999 and I am so grateful for it! Whether it was salted shrimp, green plum syrup, gochugaru, fish sauce, or something else, there were multiple brands and sizes to choose from. Also, a personal tip: If I didn’t have a strong opinion of what to get based on brand, price, or size, I chose whichever brand there was the least of. For example, in the case of the gochugaru, I think there were at least 10 different brands available, but one of them definitely was more popular than the others so I bought that one.

4. A little Korean winging it doesn’t hurt (lol)

Okay, so normally I wouldn’t advise messing around with a recipe in a situation like this—where I’m trying to connect to my roots and make something delicious that even my Mom and the pastor’s wife might like—but I adore radish in kimchi so I decided to go ahead and use the entire Korean radish I bought, even though it was nearly double in weight of what was indicated in the recipe. It ended up working out just fine given that the sauce quantity is generous.

5. Food = pure joy

A relative once said to me, “Eh, food is just fuel” and quite frankly, it doesn’t surprise me that I have not seen that person in ~30 years lol. Making food, trying new recipes, and shopping for different ingredients is an incredible privilege and joy. It was not difficult to make this kimchi and I actually felt love through the whole process, as I thought about the gift of recipe sharing between Eric Kim and his mom Jean, my anticipation of sharing this kimchi with my Mom, and the delight of trying something new.

I hope you will check out Eric Kim’s book. And Eric, if you ever see this post, thank you and please thank your mom for me. The result is delicious and I am so delighted to know that I can now make kimchi whenever the mood strikes. My 13-year-old daughter Violet said it looks super legit and my 20-year-old daughter Laurel asked to take a jar back to college with her. And my Mom? She said “I loved it!” (shocking praise to be honest) and quickly finished the jar I gave her last week. I just got back from her house to drop off another jar for her and one for the pastor’s wife. And in true umma form, she praised the kimchi and also suggested I salt and wilt the thick parts of the cabbage more next time.

6. Korean kids will forever borrow stuff from their moms

One funny note: When I was at my mom’s house the other week I told her I was planning on trying to make kimchi and asked if she had a one-gallon glass jar. She did not but offered me a half gallon glass jar, which reminded me that I also had one of a similar size. As I was packing up this gorgeous kimchi, I also separated out a more manageable sized jar for her. I returned her large jar with this morning’s kimchi drop because OMG Koreans and their Tupperware and jars. I figure in future batches I will pack the kimchi in a series of larger recycled jars I have or directly into smaller recycled jars for sharing.

And finally, to loop back to the sour person whose email led me down a path to look for light and find kimchi inspiration, I hope this person finds light and something delicious somewhere soon. It’s also worth sharing that the same week I received that unpleasant email, I received this note from a new paid Substack subscriber:

“I am continually in awe of Christine’s writing and business savvy. However, I am mostly impressed by her groundedness. I always learn something from her, and I'm sure you will, too!”

I’m grateful for all shades of experience. And I encourage you towards joyful redirection in the face of crappy mojo.