Living and Breathing: Making Tongch’imi

Introduction

For many Westerners, when Korean food is mentioned, kimchi is what comes to mind. The fermented and spicy cabbage dish has gained popularity in the US over the years. What many may not realize, however, is that this culturally popular kimchi – known as baechu kimchi – is just one of a variety of kimchi that exist. In fact, there are over 200 varieties of the dish, each with incredibly diverse flavors [1].

So, what is kimchi exactly? Broadly speaking, kimchi is a vegetable soaked in a brine, seasoned with other fruits, vegetables, and spices and then fermented for a period of time [8]. Because many vegetables contain water, preservation was quite difficult for early Koreans. In order to combat this problem, Koreans developed a process of fermentation that would preserve vegetables year-round. This concept, combined with the unique climate and crops of different regions of Korea, developed into the broad flavors and dishes of kimchi.

For my project, I was interested in looking at one of these early kimchi dishes, specifically one for the winter season. The seasonality of kimchi was especially important to early Korea, as the weather was the primary tool for fermentation. Michael Pettid points to a poem written by Yi Kyubo (1168–1241) to show both the early introduction of kimchi dishes, as well as how the seasons were directly tied to the dishes.

Pickled radish slices make a good summer side-dish,

Radish preserved in salt is a winter side-dish from start to end.

The roots in the earth grow plumper everyday,

Harvesting after the frost, a slice cut by a knife tastes like a pear [8]

For my project, I looked at the radish dish mentioned in the poem: tongch’imi, or radish water kimchi. The basis of the recipe I used was from The Encyclopedia of Daily Life: A Woman’s guide to Late-Chosŏn Korea [9]. We previously looked at the original author of this book, Yi Pinghŏgak, when discussing the impacts of women authors in Korea. Yi was an influential author, writing for an audience of literate women [10]. Yi put a great deal of emphasis on the role of food, referencing empirical and classical works in her recipes [9]. Her recipes were said to have shown an intimate knowledge of ingredients and processes prior cookbooks written by some male scholars lacked [10]. Her recipe for tongchi’mi, translated by Michael Pettid and Kil Cha follows:

Skin nicely shaped smallish radishes without cutting off the tails and salt down moderately. After a day, when they are salted down enough, wash cleanly and put them in a buried pot.

Store young cucumbers covered with ash in a pot, the same method as described for eggplants before, and they will be like freshly picked ones. Salt those down too when doing the radishes and put together. Skin good pears and citrons but do not cut them. Cut green onion bulbs about one ch’i (3cm) long and split into four pieces, but not all the way through the bottom. Cut ginger into thin but wide pieces. Remove the seeds from chili peppers and cut into squares. On top of the radishes and cucumbers, add a sufficient amount of the vegetables prepared as directed above. Add a proper amount of salt in good water; pour it into the pot using a fine sieve, and seal the top thickly. In the winter when it is ripe, slice pears and citrons and add some honey to the liquid, and serve with a sprinkle of pine nuts and pomegranate. It is clear, refreshing, and very tasty. [9]

Before beginning the dish, I gathered the appropriate ingredients, analyzed the different sections of the recipe, and broke it down into several steps. The recipe could generally be split into three parts: Preparation, combination, and fermentation.

Ingredients:

I went to H-Mart to get the necessary ingredients. As a guide to the specific type of peppers, radish, and pear, I used a modern recipe [5]. The recipe references “chili peppers”, so I opted to use both green and red chilis. I was able to find all the ingredients apart from the pine nuts used for garnish. In addition to finding my ingredients, I found a jar of tongch’imi being sold. The ingredients were almost identical to Yi’s tongch’imi except for the additions of sugar and carrot, and the omission of green chili pepper and citrons. With ingredients in hand, I began breaking down the recipe into sections.

Step One: Preparation

Ingredients

Two Korean Radish (washed)
One Cucumber (sliced)
Kosher Salt

Skin nicely shaped smallish radishes without cutting off the tails and salt down moderately. After a day, when they are salted down enough, wash cleanly and put them in a buried pot.

Store young cucumbers covered with ash in a pot, the same method as described for eggplants before, and they will be like freshly picked ones. Salt those down too when doing the radishes and put together. [9]

I began with the second line referencing the cucumbers. Looking through some of the other recipes, I found the eggplant storage process mentioned.

Dry ash left over from draining lye, paste it layer by layer over the eggplants, firmly seal the container, and bury. This will keep the eggplants fresh as if newly picked. [9]

I had recently made a small bonfire and gathered the ash for this process. The recipe mentions the process of making lye, which I know is sometimes used to cure olives, so I thought perhaps it was a similar preservation mechanism. However, I found that many cultures use ash as a preservative because it absorbs moisture well and not because of any inclusion of sodium hydroxide, the active ingredient in lye [6]. I ended up not using the ash because I assumed this process was to be done in the summer, when cucumbers are harvested, and then preserved for the winter dish.

The second change I made to the dish was not peeling the radishes. Both more modern recipes [5] and well as other older recipes I had seen [4] made a very strong emphasis to not peel the radish. I instead made sure to scrub the radish quite vigorously when washing as to remove the toughest part of the skin but not expose the inside. This initial step extracts excess moisture from the radishes and cucumbers and prepares them for the combination with remaining ingredients in the onggi.

Onggi

I’ll take a brief section to discuss the use of an onggi in the recipe. Onggi are traditional clay pots and are used in recipes for kimchi, soybean paste, red pepper paste and other recipes requiring fermentation [3]. The clay pot allows the food within to “breathe” while fermenting and the porous container hosts some of the cultures from previous batches of food stored in it. One of my neighbors was gracious enough to give me their onggi for this project. How an onggi is used is just as important as its physical properties. Since the ideal temperature for kimchi is around 5º Celsius, onggi are buried neck deep to keep the liquid within from freezing or from getting too warm and were covered with mats to further regulate temperature and develop microorganisms

Step 2: Combination

Ingredients

1 Korean Pear (peeled)
2 Citrons
5 Spring Onions (green section removed)
3 Red Chilis (diced)
3 Green Chilis (diced)
2 Pieces of Ginger

After the salting of radishes and cucumber, I washed them and added the pear, citrons, spring onions, red and green chilies, and ginger. This part of the recipe had no specific quantities for each ingredient and so I just my intuition for proportions. I also knew that dishes from northern Korea were traditionally less spicy and salty [8] so I tried to not use too many chilis. The recipe did not specify the amount of salt to use in the brine the tongch’imi would be fermenting in. I used the recipe from Jewels of the Palace: Royal Recipes from Old Korea which calls for a salt concentration of 3% for the liquid [4]. I dissolved the salt in separate containers before added it and a stone to the onggi with all the ingredients and buried the pot in my backyard.

Step 3: Fermentation

Fermentation is a delicate process with many factors, the most important of which is time. Not only does the environment heavily affect what goes one within the fermentation vehicle, but there must be an appropriate amount of time for microorganisms to form. Unfortunately, I had to leave my home and come back to St. Louis after only a few days. This meant that I had to transfer the ingredients to separate containers and travel with them to put in my fridge. After a few more days in the fridge, I opened them up to try my tongch’imi.

Final Product & Reflection:

I served my tongch’imi with pomegranate and a little honey, per the recipe. There were a lot of flavors, with each bite having different notes of seasoning coming out more than another; Some bites had more citrus flavor, others more pepper, and some more sweetness from the pear. When I tasted the dish before transferring to smaller containers, the flavor was much more even. I would adjust the ratio of each ingredient to create a more complementary blend of flavors and make sure I had enough time to complete the process in the onggi, where the vegetables had more space to absorb all the different seasonings.

The recipe only makes one reference to how to ferment: “After a day, when [the radish and cucumber] are salted down enough, wash them cleanly and put them in a buried pot.” [9] This excludes any process of fermentation in warmth, which is traditionally the first step in most fermenting, with a secondary fermentation happening in the cold, since the temperature slows the development of cultures. My tongch’imi spent most of its time in the ground and in the fridge and so I would have increased the amount of time in room temperature before transferring to a cooler environment.

Tongch’imi is different from any kimchi I’ve had before. The most interesting part of the process was seeing how each part of the recipe, from the onggi, to the seasonal ingredients, to the season itself was vital to the final product. The modern tongch’imi recipes I read missed some of these aspects since refrigeration and other jars make tongch’imi an easier process, which don’t only change the process of making tongch’imi, but broader consequences like the dramatic decrease of onggi crafters in Korea [3]. I look forward to trying my hand at tongch’imi again as well as trying as many varieties of kimchi as I can.

Works Cited:

[1] Arirang TV. “Tales of Hansik Ep11 kimchi 김치.” YouTube. October 1, 2013. Video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MhGo3OIDhV0

Dai-Ja Jang, Kyung Rhan Chung, Hye Jeong Yang, Kang-sung Kim, Dae Young Kwon,

[2] Discussion on the origin of kimchi, representative of Korean unique fermented vegetables, Journal of Ethnic Foods, Volume 2, Issue 3, 2015, Pages 126-136, ISSN 2352-6181, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jef.2015.08.005.

[3] Eater. “How a Master Potter Makes Giant Kimchi Pots Using the Traditional Method — Handmade.” YouTube. January 13, 2021. Video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QlwnBy16W0E&t=12s

[4] Han Pong-nyŏ. Jewels of the Palace: Royal Recipes from Old Korea. Carlsbad, CA: Hollym International Corp., 2017.

[5] Maangchi. “Dongchimi (Radish Water Kimchi).” Cooking Korean food with Maangchi, July 30, 2021. https://www.maangchi.com/recipe/dongchimi.

[6] Mutandwa, Edward, and Christopher Tafara Gadzirayi. "Comparative Assessment of Indigenous Methods of Sweet Potato Preservation among Smallholder Farmers: Case of Grass, Ash and Soil based Approaches in Zimbabwe." African studies quarterly 9, no. 3 (2007).

[7] Pang, Inah. “Onggi Pottery from Korea to D.C.” Smithsonian Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage. Smithsonian Institute, September 21, 2018. https://folklife.si.edu/magazine/onggi-pottery-korea-to-dc-necessity-to-health-trend.

[8] Pettid, Michael J. Korean Cuisine: An Illustrated History. London: Reaktion Books, 2008.

[9] Pettid, Michael J., and Kil Cha. “Volume 1, Liquor and Food, Part 1.” In The Encyclopedia of Daily Life: A Woman’s Guide to Living in Late-Chosŏn Korea, 11:39–91. University of Hawai’i Press, 2021. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv1bn9jks.7.

[10] Sang-ho, Ro. "Cookbooks and Female Writers in Late Chosŏn Korea." Seoul Journal of Korean Studies 29, no. 1 (2016): 133-157. doi:10.1353/seo.2016.0000.