Jean's Kimchi Recipe

Jean's Kimchi Recipe

• 1 head napa cabbage 
• 1 small daikon radish ("This gets cut up into little matchsticks and goes into the sauce. Makes the kimchi taste fresh.")
• 5 scallions, cut into 1-inch pieces 
• 1 potato ("You know that rice flour paste most kimchi recipes call for? I've actually started using a potato instead. Works better.")
• 6 to 7 garlic cloves 
• 1-inch piece ginger ("I don't know, a pinky's worth?")
• 1/4 onion 
• 1/4 Asian pear 
• 1/4 cup fish sauce
• 1/4 cup salted shrimp 
• 1/2 cup gochugaru aka Korean red pepper powder ("Your kimchi is only as good as the gochugaru you use.)
• Salt and sugar ("Salt is the main ingredient! Sugar makes it taste better.")
• Optional add-ins ("Sometimes I like to add tomatoes, apples, bell peppers—the more things you add to the cabbage, the better everything will taste, really.")

1. Brine The Cabbage

This first step is essential for a couple of reasons: 1) It kills off any harmful bacteria that may be in the vegetable, leaving room for the good bacteria, aka Lactobacillus, to grow during the lacto-fermentation process that gives kimchi its distinct, pleasurable tang. 2) It also removes water from the cell walls, which aids in preservation later and, more importantly, in flavor. I've always thought of it as: less water means more concentrated cabbage taste (plus, the sauce will penetrate better).
My phone call with Mom was revealing, to say the least. I thought I had remembered her dry-brining the cabbage all those years, which is to say: placing huge buckets of napa, each cut in half or into quarters lengthwise from the root-end to about halfway up to the greener leafier part (but not all the way through). Yes, she still cuts them this way, claiming that the kimchi, when left intact like this, ripens slower but ends up tasting crunchier and yummier. But tonight she mentioned a salt bath, or wet brine, which does sound like a more uniform way to draw out water from the cabbage.

I go home and try to fit the cabbage into the biggest bucket I've got: my salad spinner. Of course, it doesn't fit. So I cut it up into bite-size pieces (it fits!), cover with tap water, and sprinkle over a non-iodized table sea salt I accidentally bought the other day, thinking the grains would be much bigger (but guess what small-grained salt is perfect for?). I remember what my mom said about brining smaller pieces like this: You'll only need to do it for 2 to 3 hours, versus the 6 to 8–hour brine of those whole heads. (I added the scallions here too, with the idea in mind that I'm also "kimchi-ing" them.)
One important tip is to smoosh the cabbage around, making sure the salt and water and all of the vegetables get properly, evenly, salted.
Drain, then let sit while you prepare the sauce.

2. Make The Sauce.

This next part is the easiest. Well, kind of. First, you have to make the paste, which will become the base of the kimchi sauce. This paste is really just a vehicle for all of the seasonings, to stretch the sauce so it covers more cabbage.
For Jean's paste: Peel a potato, then grate it directly into a cup or so of boiling water until you've got a thick puree.

 There doesn't seem to be much of a difference between grating a cooked potato and mixing it into water versus grating a raw potato and cooking it in water.

I ended up only needing about half of the potato to create a loose mashed potato situation. Don't worry too much about whether it's too thick or too thin; you'll only need about 1/2 cup of this stuff for this kimchi recipe.
Here's why: Jean likes to make a big batch of kimchi sauce and keep some back in the freezer so she can "kimchi" anything at a moment's notice. So if you end up with extra potato paste, don't throw it out.

Now we're at the easy part. In a small food processor, blitz the garlic, ginger, onion, pear, fish sauce, salted shrimp, gochugaru, and (to taste) salt and sugar. Stir this gorgeous red paste into the potato paste. At this point I actually don't even bother to taste (neither does my mom). What matters is how your seasonings taste with the cabbage. So onto the next step...

3. Smoosh It All Around.

Just get in there! (With clean hands.)

4. Taste, Taste, Taste.

Growing up, this is the point at which my mom would hold a container of salt in one hand and mix with the other, crouched down over a huge plastic bowl filled with crimson kimchi. She'd taste as she went, adjusting the salt, sugar, and red pepper powder until it was just right. I'd be watching from a couple feet away, her little taster; she'd call me over and pick out one perfect piece, wiping off any excess sauce, folding it up, holding it out ("Open!"), and placing it in my mouth.
Unfermented kimchi tastes great—different, but great. Which is why it's important to adjust at this stage according to your own tastes. Ask yourself: Does it need more salt? More sweetness? When I made this kimchi recently, I felt that it needed more savoriness, so I added another tablespoon of the salted shrimp.

5. Jar The Kimchi And Wait.

Large mason jars are great for storing and fermenting kimchi (but I just reuse old 3-pound H Mart kimchi buckets). Sometimes my mom sets aside a small portion of the unfermented kimchi so she and my dad can enjoy it throughout the week. But if you're in it for the funky stuff, then leave on the counter at room temperature for about 24 hours, then place in the fridge for a week or so. I like to taste as I go, i.e. 3 days later, 7 days later, 14 days later, because each version will taste different and funkier the longer it sits in the fridge.