Recipe: “Don’t Be An A-Hole” Kimchi

Dman and I discussed our resolutions on New Year’s Eve, the usual ones about family, career and fitness figuring among them. Since then, I’ve been rethinking them, hearing about other people’s, and feeling vaguely dissatisfied.

Beyond the typical self-improvement jazz, there’s something else I want to do this year and I think it’s being—or maybe, thinking—larger. I want to get beyond the petty stuff, the little annoyances that can ruin a day if you dwell on them, the nit-picking disagreements that can ruin a relationship if you let them. I want to be better in a real way, not just a way that looks good from the outside.

Along those lines, I’ve been reading and thinking a lot about privilege lately—white, male, rich, beautiful, intellectual—and how it can turn you into an asshole without you meaning to become one. I didn’t grow up with a lot of privilege, being an Asian female immigrant who went through at least a decade-long ugly ducky stage. (At least I was smart.) But times and circumstances changed and now I find myself insulated in a world of private preschools and designer bags that cost double my rent back in Manhattan.

I often marvel at how I don’t have to study the prices of things at the grocery store. I used to clip coupons from the Sunday circular with my mother. I loved carefully tearing off the perforated edges and making neat, categorized piles. At thirteen, I worked as a counter girl at a North Philly Dunkin’ Donuts, owned by a Korean man who happily hired an underage worker for an underpaid part-time job. After eighteen months of collecting fifty-cent tips, I’d amassed $1000 in dollar bills and I proudly deposited the money into my savings account.

What’s $1000 to me now? A few pairs of shoes. A nice winter coat.

Money, pretty and even marriage provide a protective bubble where you can be oblivious to the unattractive goings-on of the rest of the world—that other place where things aren’t quite as simple as “Follow your passion and the money will come” or “You can be successful as long as you work hard.”

Funny how not having to worry about meeting rent and student loan payments makes manifesting your dreams so much easier. At the same time, when you’re buffered from things like hunger and hardship, minuscule grievances take on magnificent proportions and you start to believe that you should be above ordinary inconveniences. (“Ugh, I refuse to wait in this line.” “She shrunk my cashmere sweater in the wash, what kind of idiot does that?!”)

When you’re privileged, your friends most likely are, too, so they totally get how hard your life is. And that’s lucky because you’re spared the embarrassment of having to go to a cheap restaurant or enduring the horror of an all-inclusive vacation because someone in your group can’t afford anything more. In fact, among the rich, lent-out luxury is the true luxury: “Stay in our Bali vacation house, please. Someone should use it.” “Come to such-and-such designer’s private sale ($1000 dresses for $75).” “You can’t miss this party—I’ll fly you out.” “Of course our nanny/housekeeper/
chauffeur can help you.”

I’m not saying that privileged people are assholes, but I am saying that privileged people have an easier time getting away with being assholes, even unintentionally.

Is it worse to be an intentional asshole or an unintentional one?

I’m digressing, but I think my wanting to be a better, realer human being is sometimes hindered by the assholery—intentional or otherwise—my current lifestyle affords me. I don’t want to become inured to empathy, sympathy and compassion because I’ve somehow landed cushy side up in what can be a rough, rotten and unfair world. I’ve got a ways to go: relationships to repair; love and kindness to generate.

In the spirit of generosity, I’m sharing a simplified version of my mom’s much-asked-for kimchi recipe. (I don’t know how to make the complicated kind.) It’s healthy and delicious and I hope it brings you as much joy as it does Dman and me every time I stop being lazy and make it.

Make it. Share it. Spread the kimchi love. And don’t be an asshole, please.

“Don’t Be An A-Hole” Kimchi

Ingredients:
4-5 heads of Napa (Chinese) cabbage
Kosher salt
2-3 bunches of scallions, white and green parts chopped into 1-2" lengths
3-4 hot red peppers, sliced

For the paste:
2-3 heads of garlic, peeled
2 inches of ginger, peeled
1 big onion, quartered
2 tablespoons of shrimp paste (or fish sauce—skip for veggie version)
4 tablespoons of Korean chili powder (gochugaru—in Asian markets or have your Korean mom send it to you like mine does)
1 tablespoon of sugar or half a ripe pear (optional for sugar-avoiders but the sweetness adds another dimension of flavor)

Directions:
Pull apart the cabbage leaves and rinse slightly. Chop lengthwise into quarters then crosswise so you have bite-size (about an inch-and-a-half) rectangles. Don’t chop the outside leaves that aren’t super fresh. You’ll keep those whole for later.

Take all the cabbage, including the whole leaves, and put them into big bowls. This amount of cabbage usually fills three big bowls for me.

Salt well between all the leaves and rectangles of cabbage. Let it sit for an hour. Then toss it around, scooping up the salt water that’s at the bottom of the bowl now and pouring that back over the cabbage. Leave for another 45 minutes to an hour.

This step is really important because you don’t want the cabbage too wilted or not wilted enough. But that’s also personal preference. I think some people (not me) like their kimchi super-wilted.

During the salting/sitting time, you can make the paste by grinding together the ingredients in a blender. I prefer the immersion blender for this, but if you don’t have one, the regular blender is fine. You’ll probably need to add some water because it won’t grind up otherwise. Taste and adjust for seasoning. Is it spicy enough? If not, add more chili flakes. Maybe you want more fishiness or more sweetness, so adjust for that.

Now rinse the salt from the cabbage and drain it well but don’t over-handle the leaves because it will cause them to become more wilted.

Mix the paste into each bowl and cover all the cabbage, again handling the cabbage gently. Use your hands here and if you’re smart, you’ll have plastic gloves so you don’t get spicy paste all over your fingers. (I am never that smart.) Add the scallions and hot peppers once the cabbage has been entirely covered with paste and toss once more.

Put the cabbage into whatever airtight containers you’re using—glass jars, tupperware. Take the whole leaves of cabbage (which should be covered with the paste, too) and lay them like blankets on top of the cut cabbage.

Mix whatever leftover paste that’s in the blender and the bowls with some water and a handful of salt until it tastes quite salty. Pour that spicy saltwater over the kimchi until it’s a couple centimeters above the kimchi. You can also add more sliced hot peppers on top to make it pretty. Then cover it all with plastic film and press down to get out the air bubbles.

Close your container and leave it outside for at least 24 hours before putting it into the fridge. If you want it to ripen more, let it sit out for 48 hours before putting it into the fridge. Once refrigerated, let it rest at least another day before eating it. As for those long leaves of cabbage, keep them covering the kimchi. My mom says it’s good to use those leaves afterward for kimchi stew or kimchi fried rice.