Memories of My Mother’s Kimchi
For me, quality time with mom meant making and eating kimchi.
I used to be jealous of my friends whose mothers baked chocolate chip cookies from scratch, or who knew how to make the perfect pan of lasagna. My mom’s idea of baking was burning the bottoms of premade Pillsbury cookies, and she often added ketchup to spaghetti sauce because, “It’s the same ingredients.”
However, where she lacked in cooking Americanized cuisine, she more than made up by making some badass kimchi.
The process of making kimchi usually started with my mom asking, “Do you want to go to the Korean store?”
I knew exactly what that meant. It meant picking the perfect bundle of scallions and cloves of garlic. It meant carefully examining each head of Napa cabbage or bunch of cucumbers. If we wanted to be a little dangerous and have an extra stinky fridge, we’d choose a giant mu (Korean radish) to cut up into cubes for Kkakdugi.
Mom usually had the other ingredients at home, so we’d wander around the store and pick up items like naengmyeon (Korean buckwheat) noodles, dried seaweed and a giant 15-pound bag of rice.
Then I’d run to the candy and snack section. I’d wait until my mom was in line to pay to ask her to get me a bag of shrimp crackers or a pack of sweet rice candy. She usually said yes…
