I am sad to announce that the kimchi from last month is almost gone. Good news is that it has fermented just enough to be perfect for a nice bowl of soup. Keeping in mind of the last kimchi stew I had, I added carrots and onions for the sweetness, but kept it more traditional, with a lot of spice, and kimchi flavor which yielded a deeply satisfying result.
I really don’t cook for just myself very often. I eat well when I am alone, but when I don’t have others to feed, making sure that I consume all the nutrients that I need and that it’s satisfying in the basic level is the extent of my meal. Even when I am alone while I am cooking, the end result is usually shared. Recently I was admiring a friend of mine who makes elaborate, imaginative meals even when she is just cooking for herself. This day, I think I felt what inspires her to put the extra little effort. Kimchi stew has been my favorite food since I was a child, and I really only make it for me. Because, I am sorry, Korean restaurants of New York, but I always find something wrong and off about your kimchi stew. This was a great afternoon for cooking, away from staring at the screen in my studio, in my light drenched kitchen. The stew was perfect in a sullen day when I had very little appetite but was hungry for something warm.

Later that day when I spoke to my mom on the phone, I told her about the kimchi stew that I made. I was particularly proud of this one, with my use of mushrooms and the carrot. She was surprised by the addition of carrots, so I explained to her that I did it in order to add sweetness without using sugar. And then she said to me in shock, “who puts sugar in kimchi stew?!”
I guess I’ve been living outside of Korea for so long that I forgot how things are supposed to be.
Strangely, I haven’t thought about bulgogi since I stopped eating meat 12+ years ago. It’s probably largely due to the fact that this is so much about the quality and the texture of the meat unlike something that still tempts me after all these years like KFC chicken which is all about the crust which is not even really the part of the chicken.
I recently decided to treat bulgogi like KFC- away from the meat. (But of course, with a bit more respect. Please don’t get mad Korean people) Because bulgogi sauce is too good to be forgotten. I had it with kimchi stew, and packed the rest for lunch the next day with leftover rice.

One big misconception about bulgogi is that it’s a type of barbecue dish. While I am sure it’s great grilled, traditionally, it should be more like a stew, with a lot of simmering. I made mine a little more dry than it should be which might explain whey it looks a bit dry. I didn’t know any better.
Aside from the whole no beef part, this recipe below is pretty authentic/ basic. Nothing crazy here.
Mushroom Bul-Seitan (a.k.a. Vegetarian Bulgogi)
1 pack (about 1 lb) of seitan- sliced
For the sauce
1/2 yellow onion-blended- blended
1/2 pear (preferably Korean)- blended
1 1/2 cup filtered water
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp chungju, soju, white wine, or mirin
1/2 cup soy sauce
1 tbsp crushed/chopped garlic
ground black pepper to taste
Combine all the ingredients for the sauce, and marinate seitan for up to 6 hours in the fridge.
When it’s ready to cook, prepare the following vegetables:
1 lb mix of different kinds of mushrooms
2 scallions- julienned thin
1 onion- julienned thin
1 or less carrot- julienned thin
In a heated pan, start cooking the marinated seitan in medium-high heat. When about 1/2 of the liquid have simmer away, add the vegetables, and cook in high heat, for about 5 more minutes.
Serves 4-6
This year had a lot of first’s for me so far. On Saturday was my first ever bachelorette party for my dear friend Ari, which was crazy fun. I think this picture sums up the events pretty well.

They don’t usually dress in all tights and leggings, just so you know. I don’t know if this conveys the stripper poles, pretty insane UES dinner, and bottles of Grey Goose and Johnny Walker involved… but now it’s all out. In the midst of the grinding and air humping, I get a text from Lucy “can’t help making kimchi stew, come over in the morning, bring laver (sea weed).”
Sunday morning, I reluctantly digged myself out of the comforter cave. Like a small animal leaving its nest after a hibernation, I rubbed by face with no soap or water and dragged myself out in search of nourishment 2 1/2 blocks, to Lucy’s house where my all time favorite comfort food was waiting.
Our breakfast only consisted of the soup, rice, and laver, and it’s just what I needed. I provided a link to a video instruction on making kimchi stew when I talked about making our own kimchi. But this one was drastically different than any kimchi stew that I am used to. It was made with well-fermented kimchi that she washed, and stir fried in “butter” before adding broth, which was rich with flavors from mushroom. She also added carrots to add sweetness without using sugar as it is normally.* It tasted a lot like vegetable soup, which I liked a lot.
Anyway, it’s really true that you’re in a constant self realization. Who knew I would have so much fun at a bachelorette party? And who knew that I would be so happy to be devouring vegetable soup tasting kimchi stew? I wish every weekend was a bachelorette weekend. Sort of.
*If you are new to this crazy world of Korean food, and want to try making your own kimchi stew, I suggest starting out with the most traditional way, so that you get an idea of how it’s supposed to be. Use this recipe, and substitute the meat portion to mushrooms.
I MADE MY OWN KIMCHI!!!!!
This is a big deal, people. Even though I can’t claim to have made it myself. A more accurate story would be that I kept company of my friends while they did all the work and research. I asked questions, and chopped the vegetables and fruits, as per their direction. But kimchi is never made by one person. My mother always had at least 3 other people to collaborate with, and it could be the most communal food item to prepare, which I think is really cool. It’s also probably the most economical and nutritious thing I know about. A huge batch is made a few times a year, and then it lasts forever in its continuously fermenting process. I heard some kimchi can last for more than 3 years, but I am guessing that that is when is stored in a quality clay pot, and buried in the right spot in the ground. I would say the kimchi we made should be consumed within a month, since we’ll be keeping it in a regular fridge. When it gets too sour, it can be made in to kimchi stew*!
I noticed that as I am writing about this, there’s already a seemingly gratuitous amount of exclamation points. And by that, I am also realizing how deeply I am fond of kimchi. All nostalgic sentiments as a Korean person living abroad aside, it has so many dynamic layers. I first love that its flavor is just completely bizarre and powerful, and that it is the definition of ‘acquired taste’. I think I can safely assume that every Korean child started eating kimchi by force. Flavors that naturally appeal to people are sweet, and mildly savory. Kimchi is neither. It’s spicy, salty, and totally weird. Maybe the relationship of Korean people and kimchi is like the culinary Stockholm Syndrome. Anyway, there are plenty of information about kimchi if you’re curious, so I’ll leave the informative part to the experts.
Getting back to the ‘big deal’ part about this, making kimchi is sort of a rite of passage. It means I am a ripe young woman ready for marriage, and that my flower is ready to be picked. Uhh.. okay that’s kind of gross. Sorry. But it is really the last step toward becoming a domestic matron. (When I told my mother that I made kimchi, she was really impressed, so I hope that gives my claim some credibility.) So, this description applies to the ladies in the pictures above, more so than me, who in reality, was more of a spectator. The kimchi we made was fantastic beyond belief, and Gia was kind enough to send me the instructions she followed: Napa Cabbage Kimchi (in Korean)

Ladies are putting their gunz to work
And.. here’s the translation:
Napa Cabbage Kimchi
1 head napa cabbage cut into quarters or 2-inch wedges, depending on size of cabbage
1/3 of a large mino early radish (Korean raddish)
1 1/2 cup coarse sea saltFor seasoning (This will yield more than the kimchi needs. The leftover sauce can be saved and added to stir fry or soup, or more kimchi!)
3/4 cup or less Korean chili powder (gochutgaru)**
4 ounces scallions and Korean leeks
1/2 of a medium sized yellow onion
1/2 of a Korean apple, or fuji, pink lady***
1/2 of a Korean pear
1.5 tbsp finely minced garlic
1 tbsp finely minced ginger
1/2 tbsp sugarBroth
- bring to boil some water to 1 1/2 cup with dashima/kelp, and mushrooms (wild mushroom or shiitake) and simmer until the broth is flavorful, discard the sea weed
- take the water off the stove, and stir in 5 tbsp of sticky rice flour (chapsal-garu) or all purpose flour
Dissolve 1 1/2 cup sea salt in 7 cups of water. Soak chopped cabbage in the salt water for at least 1 hour. Mix it up after the first 30 minutes.
In a large bowl, pour the hot broth and stir in the chili powder. Let it sit in room temperature.
Remove cabbage from water and and drain in colander for 2 hours. Mean while, cut the radish in quarters lengthwise, then slice. Be sure not to slice too thin. Mix the radish slices in a handful of sea salt, and let it sit for 10-15 minutes. Wash and cut the scallions and leeks into 1 inch lengths and slice in halves
Put the fruits and onions into food processor or blender and liquify. When the chili powder mixture cools down to room temperature, stir in the mixture into the chili powder, and the rest of the ingredients for the seasoning.****
When the cabbage is drained, place it in a large bowl along with radish slices, leeks, and scallions. Mix in thoroughly with the seasoning, and blend using your hands.
Tightly pack the cabbage in a gallon-size jar. Cover the surface with plastic wrap and press down to get rid of air pockets. Leave it out at room temperature for half of a day to ferment. During that time, do not move, or open the container! Chill before serving.

*This video linked is not veg friendly at all, but don’t worry. I just substitute all meat ingredients with mushrooms and I happen to love the results.
**You can make your own by drying Korean chili peppers, and crushing into powders, or get some from here
***The fruits are optional, but to me, essential. We also put in some dried jujube in it!
****Traditionally, this is where you would put in fresh oysters or salted shrimp. Some people think that it’s sacrilegious to do without them, but personally, I find the flavors much cleaner and more refreshing without.
Kimchi fried rice? But it's not fried..
About 15 minutes ago, I started cooking some carrots and parsnips. Immediately, I got bored, and now they’re just sitting in the pot, overcooked and getting mushier by the minute. It’s one of those days where I can’t find a hint of excitement and desire for anything, and I’m wishing that I had some left overs to remind my senses of something pleasant from the previous day with minimal effort. But there’s not even some cold rice in the fridge. And I’m just going to assume that you don’t know what cold rice can do, which most likely is true, and show you the way:

After a very late night dinner over the weekend, this is what I made the next morning with the left over rice. It’s 김치볶음밥 (kimchi bokkem bop). It’s the easiest thing in the world to make. All you need is some kimchi, left over rice, and whatever else you want. In my case, a lot of carrots and onions.

Bokkem-bop means “stir-fried rice”, roughly translated, but I kind of hate saying fried rice. It’s not really fried! It’s more like, stir-cooked with minimal oil. That kind of goes against the definition of the description. Let’s just say there’s no direct translation in English for it, and digress.
This is one of the first things I started cooking for myself, and I never get sick of it. And it’s only just one of many things that can come out of the neglected leftover rice, but this one is my favorite. By the way, in Korean idiom, cold rice (찬밥) often describes a neglected person. In my ideal, I don’t want to neglect anyone, or anything. Not even cold rice itself. And certainly not my grumpy, hungry self. So. I think it’s time for me to pay some attention to the carrots and parsnips. But first, I’ll leave you with this to try when you’re feeling famished and wretched, or happy and adventurous.
- Choose the vegetables you want to cook and chop in the same size.
- In a pan, start cooking the onions with carrots (or other roots) in some butter, or butter substitute like Earth Balance.
- Lightly squeeze the liquid out of well fermented kimchi and chop, add to the pan. If you want some protein, or chili paste (고추장), this is the time to add. I prefer mushrooms.
- Add the cold rice. If the rice is too dry from sitting in the fridge, add some kimchi water. Mix well without breaking the grains with a little bit of sesame oil and chopped scallions. Top with some gim.
- Dark beer goes really well with it.
- Don’t forget to brush your teeth afterwards.













