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an illustration of Chef Ji Hye Kim pulling a cart behind her filled with produce

The soul of the Seoul food served at Miss Kim


Sitting at a sunny summer patio table in Ann Arbor’s Kerrytown I caught up with Ji Hye Kim, chef and managing partner of Miss Kim, Zingerman’s Korean restaurant. We talked about her food philosophy, approach to running a business, what’s new, and what’s not going to change. If you’ve never had the pleasure of dining at Miss Kim, read on for a primer on where to point your chopsticks first. If you’re already a big fan, read on for more of the story behind those swinging kitchen doors. 


Sara: How would you describe the experience at Miss Kim to someone who has never been before?
Ji Hye: The ambiance is nice. I think it’s comfortable and casual, without being like a quick service place. We have proper dining service that is friendly and not super formal. Our servers are very good at getting you delicious food regardless of your dietary restrictions or preferences. You came into our house—we want to make sure you have really good food and a really good time.

Sara: What sets Miss Kim apart from other Korean restaurants?
Ji Hye: I think the experience you have with the food is different from other Korean restaurants in Michigan, or the Midwest in general, because we pay a lot of attention to the tradition and culinary history. What I try to do is see the essence and story of the dish. I want to see how that translates here because Korean food has distinctive regional cuisines. Korea is smaller than most single states in the United States, but it’s regionally varied. Food travels with the people, so food in South Korea may look different than in North Korea, on the China-North Korea border, and where Korean Russians were exiled into Central Asia. So, I think it’s a continuation of the story of where Korean food lands in Michigan and our take on things. Our menu has one foot in culinary history and another foot firmly planted in the soil of Michigan. I feel each dish has a long story in Korea and I’m adding one sentence at the end because this dish landed in Michigan.

Sara: Does Miss Kim’s food focus on any one of those many Korean regional cuisines?
Ji Hye: It’s not part of our vision to specifically focus on the food of one region, but because my mother is from Gyeonggi Province (the central part of Korea where Seoul is located) and that’s the food that I grew up eating, there is an influence. When I started researching Korean food, I realized some of the dishes she was making for me were specific to that region. My friends whose moms came from a different region didn’t know what they were.

Korea is similar to Italy in that way. Southern Italian food is a little saltier; Calabrese cuisine is a little spicier; in Liguria, in the north, they use more butter. Southern Korean food is saltier, spicier, and the seasoning is heavier. They use more fish sauce because they’re on the seaboard. North Korean food, out in the mountains, tends to be milder. They don’t use as much salt and the dishes tend to be simpler and more humble. Seoul is right in the middle so they go for balance, and maybe a touch sweeter. Also, Seoul, the capital of Korea for 600 years or so, is where all the ingredients in the supply chain ended; so Seoul food tends to be more varied in the ingredients, rather than focusing on seafood on the coast or foraged mushrooms and greens in the mountains. So I think some of our dishes reflect Seoul cuisine and the Gyeonggi region

Sometimes even Korean people will come in and comment that our kimchi is too mild, but that is by design. (Though sometimes they assume it’s because I don’t know how to make it.) Kimchi from the southern part of Korea is saltier, spicier, and bolder in flavor, but kimchi from the Gyeonggi area in the middle of the country tends to be milder and crunchier—they want you to taste the vegetable. So that’s why our kimchi is on the milder side.

Sara: What does your mom think about Miss Kim?
Ji Hye: [Laughing] She doesn’t think much of it. She wants to know if I’m making enough money to be comfortable and that it’s not too hard on my body. Other than that she is not relinquishing her title of the best cook in the family. 

She’s not super fond of the fact that I use some American vegetables like beets or asparagus. She’s just kind of like “eh” [waving hand up] “It’s not a Korean vegetable.” She can make a lot of food that we make very easily so she doesn’t think it should be as priced as it is. If you know how to make really good spaghetti bolognese you may not want to pay $35 for a bowl of spaghetti bolognese. It’s sort of a similar idea. She thinks I can make mushroom japchae at home. Really cheap and it’s just as delicious. Why should I pay this much money, but she’s also not paying for rent, living wages and benefits for staff, local mushrooms, and all of that stuff. So basically she’s not impressed [still laughing].

Sara: What was your inspiration for learning to cook?
Ji Hye: Sometimes you read interviews with chefs and they’re like “I knew that I wanted to be a chef when I was three and making raviolis in my Nonna’s kitchen,” or, “I’ve been working in the kitchen since I was 14 and I used to sleep on a potato sack in my mom’s restaurant.” That is not my story. My mom is the firstborn in the family and so is my father, so that meant that every holiday was spent at our house, but she didn’t really let kids cook. She had a lot of cooking to do and teaching kids to cook is a whole different job and she didn’t want to be bothered. I wasn’t gonna be that helpful. She was like, “Out of my kitchen!” One time I asked if she could show me how to make this and that and she’s like, “No, you were born a girl. You’re going to end up in the kitchen anyway cooking for a husband or a child. You don’t need to start now.” She herself didn’t learn to cook until she got married. So I didn’t learn from her. 

I learned much later from working and being self-taught. But I knew my mom was a really good cook. She made a lot of things from scratch, like gochujang fermented chili paste. When I was really young she had these crocks of what I thought were really stinky magic potions—fermented sauces—out on the balcony of our apartment complex. She would get fresh pressed sesame oil delivered from her mother who lived in the countryside. She really cared about ingredients. And I would watch her cook. I think that helped a lot when I started cooking. As I was learning Korean recipes, I just knew how to go about it a lot faster than when I was learning to make Italian or American food. I would remember how my mom did it. I had these peripheral memories, this knowledge bank I didn’t know I had, from watching her. She’s my accidental inspiration in that way.

I continued to learn about paying attention to ingredients by working at Zingerman’s. My appreciation for traditional cuisine and knowing the story behind it, that came from Zingerman’s.

illustrations of kitchen utensils with faces and arms and legs
Sara: If you were having someone build a Korean recipe-ready pantry what would you recommend?
Ji Hye: I would make sure that they have sesame seeds, sesame oil, soy sauce, doenjang (fermented soy paste), gochujang (fermented chile paste), and fish sauce. The flavors are a balance between salty, sweet, and spicy.

Sara: What do you think is the biggest misconception about Korean cuisine?
Ji Hye: People tend to think that Korean food is a set of this or tastes like that. It’s not a monolith. Take kimchi for example. There are over 200 documented versions of kimchi. Every region has a different take on it and every season provides a different kind of kimchi. Somebody said there are as many types of kimchi as there are moms in Korea. I mean it sort of allows for that diversity to flourish.

I think that’s one of the biggest misconceptions of food when people think of “ethnic food.” That is only one way. Your one trip to Thailand, or India, or Korea, and then that is your definition of that food. Or if you’re Korean American and you grew up with the food your mom made and you understand that to be the only version of Korean food. There are so many types. It expands in many ways, regionally, seasonally, by price point. It evolves. No one person’s experience represents an entire cuisine.

Sara: If you were to make a brand new customer three Miss Kim dishes, which would you pick and why?
Ji Hye: 1. Fried Tofu. I actually kind of dislike tofu, but I know that when I eat something and I don’t like it, I always leave room that maybe I just never had a good version of it. So, I leave my mind open to be changed. This dish is a converter. That’s why I picked it. I think our tofu plays a lot with texture and flavor. Externally it’s shatteringly crispy. Inside the soft tofu is custardy. I think it’s a fun dish to eat. This is what I call a mind changer. If you don’t like tofu try this dish.

Sara: I can confirm. It’s one of my favorites for the same reasons. I was once at a ZingTrain seminar and Miss Kim food was served for lunch. The first thing to run out on the buffet was the fried tofu. People were telling others to try it.

Ji Hye: 2. Tteokbokki. (For those unfamiliar, it’s a small baton-shaped, stir-fried, soft and chewy rice cake.) Our menu changes from time to time, but we always have a few different kinds of tteokbokki on the menu such as classic street style with gochujang, scallions, pork belly lardons, and poached egg. I think this dish can tell the story of Korea. It started out as sort of a luxurious dish because you take this much cooked rice [holding up both hands] and turn it into these little rice cakes [holding up the thumb and forefinger]. It used to be just street food and now there are so many iterations. Some chefs are using it like rice pasta and serving it with butter sauce, gorgonzola cream, or mozzarella cheese. It’s a fun evolution to watch and we’re looking to add more versions to our menu, like with a tomato vodka sauce. Growing up, tteokbokki was a dish I ate on the streets, sneaking it behind my mom’s back because she didn’t really approve of it, so I feel a personal connection to it.

3. Vegetable Twigim. Seasonal vegetables are quick pickled and fried in the same type of crispy rice flour batter (gluten-free) we use for our Korean fried chicken, then served with spicy mayo. Seasonality is really important in Korean cuisine (the Korean Farmers Almanac has 24 seasons!) and on our menu. We reflect the seasonality of Michigan produce in our dishes. For these fried vegetables, you might find us using cauliflower, green beans, or green tomatoes.

Sara: And a drink to go with it? What’s special about the bar at Miss Kim?
Ji Hye: We focus on traditional Korean drinks. We have plum syrup-flavored soda, cinnamon drink, banana milk, rice wine, and soju. Soju is a sweet grain-based distilled alcohol. I’d say it’s half as strong as vodka. We infuse soju with different Épice de Cru spices and Rishi teas. There’s soju infused with black tea that emulates a light whisky, it has a lot of smoky notes. We also have rose, hibiscus, black sesame, and yuzu—you can order a soju sampler. We’re hoping to bring in an artisanally made rice wine from Brooklyn this summer.

Sara: How does being located at the Kerrytown Shops benefit the restaurant?
Ji Hye: I think our proximity to the Ann Arbor Farmers Market sets the tone of the menu. I have really good relationships with the farmers I’ve been working with for 10 years, since our pop-up days. I wish we were bigger so we could buy from even more local farmers, but there are a few we are really committed to. Kerrytown is a little more neighborhood-like as opposed to being located on Main Street or South University, which I like. It’s a nice place to park and walk around for things to do and then have a cocktail and dinner.

Sara: How often do you go to the Ann Arbor Farmers Market?
Ji Hye: I try to go every farmers market day (right now that’s Wednesdays and Saturdays). The farmers know me and generally know what I am buying, so sometimes they’ll put it aside or deliver it to the restaurant. I still go to the market even if I don’t have a lot of things to buy because it’s a big inspiration to me. 

Sara: What are you most looking forward to coming back in season at the market this summer?
Ji Hye: Corn and tomatoes [said with zero hesitation]. We’ll bring back dishes like miso corn with scallops; tomato salad with soft tofu and wasabi dressing; tomato salad with peaches, hot peppers, and mustard dressing; or pickled and fried green tomatoes. 

Personally, I buy nettles. I can never find enough nettles for me to put them on the menu for the restaurant. But every time I see nettles, I buy them. I blanch them, squeeze out the water, and keep them in the freezer. Sometimes I dress them in sesame oil, garlic, soy sauce, and sesame seeds and eat them as a side dish. Or I might use it as a topping on bibimbap. Or I zip them with a little water and maple syrup and drink it as green juice.

Sara: What is different about Miss Kim today than when it opened eight years ago?
Ji Hye: I think the biggest difference is that we have way more vegetables and vegetarian dishes on the menu. I knew before opening I wanted to have more than ribs and fried chicken. We didn’t start with many vegetarian items, but it was always a goal. Now we’re getting to a good balance. I actually just crunched the numbers and 56% of the dishes on the menu are vegetable-focused. It may not be vegetarian, like the roasted broccolini with fish sauce caramel, but it is really the broccoli we are showcasing.

Sara: What is different about you eight years after opening a restaurant?
Ji Hye: I sweat the small stuff a little less. Everything felt important and urgent then, but when you work that way it doesn’t give you room to breathe and doesn’t make you the best manager. I am better about prioritizing and I am a better leader now.

Sara: What’s been the most surprising thing for you about owning a business?
Ji Hye: How much work I would do telling our story—the story of the food, the restaurant, how we pay people, and how we do things. I didn’t realize how much telling of the story was involved in running a small business.

Sara: Who are you telling the story to?
Ji Hye: Customers dining with us, our staff, media interviews, community non-profits, and local students. I speak to students at Huron High School in the culinary program, at Ross School of Business in marketing, at the University of Michigan in nutrition, and others. I am very open with them about all of our information so they invite me back.

Sara: What’s most rewarding for you about owning a business?
Ji Hye: When the team does well. One thing I think nobody tells you when you start a business is how long it takes to build a culture. When I worked at Zingerman’s Deli, the culture was already established, so onboarding a new employee and having them buy-in is a little easier. But when you’re starting from scratch, there’s no culture established yet, and you have to create it as you go with every single person including yourself, I think that takes three to four years.

But by our third year in business, we were dealing with the pandemic. That time forced us to pay more attention to building our team and culture. We’re definitely a Zingerman’s business, but I think we have our own distinctive personality. We work as one team because we are a tip-share restaurant—we get paid as a team. We talk about money a lot precisely because it has a monetary consequence. 

Sara: Why did you decide to open your restaurant as a Zingerman’s business?
Ji Hye: I took five years on the path to partnership to really suss out if this is what I wanted to do. People ask me why I don’t have Zingerman’s name on my awning, assuming I am not getting the benefit of Zingerman’s if I don’t. I actually think that’s not true. To me, the biggest benefit of being a Zingerman’s business is the community. So when big things like the pandemic happen, or even if you’re just having a frustrating day, you always have someone who can be your sounding board. I think that’s incredibly important if you’re running a small business. Because it can feel like you’re working in a vacuum. Somedays I do feel that way, but then I remember I have a community to go to.

I think in practical terms, Zingerman’s Service Network is really important. Having that support system allows me to not worry about those things, the specialties that are not in my wheelhouse. I don’t want to be dealing with payroll for example. I know many restaurateurs who spend hours and days doing these things or they have HR issues and no one to go to. Then you have a trained fine dining chef ending up as the house accountant and they’re not looking at the food. I don’t want to create my own marketing posters. I’m not going to do a good job and it’s going to take me longer. Having our Service Network experts to do that frees me up to do other stuff. They take those things off my plate so I can do the things only I can do—researching recipes because I read the Korean language, or telling the story of our food, or being in the front as the chef representing the restaurant. Being part of Zingerman’s and having the support allows me to do those things better. 

Sara: You work shifts at Miss Kim in a variety of jobs. What’s your favorite thing to do?
Ji Hye: My favorite thing to do is either hosting or expediting. To me, those two positions are similar and really important for the same reason. They both set the tone and the pace for the service of the food. The host is the first person you see when you walk into the restaurant. They set the tone for the guests and the pacing for the servers. Their communication is important and they can start the experience off on a good foot. The expeditor decides who gets the appetizer first and which entrée is going out when. When I do it, I know things like we aren’t late with these tickets now but we will be in 10 minutes so we can go and take care of the guest. I can do a lot from that spot. I sometimes pour water like Ari does when I am a food runner, so that way I can see every dish and touch every single table.

Sara: What’s next on the calendar for you and Miss Kim?
Ji Hye: We have a collaboration dinner with guest food writer and new cookbook author Khushbu Shah at Miss Kim in July. While it’s a different cuisine, Indian food, her approach is similar to what we do in that she makes traditional Indian food with her own Michigan spin. I’m also doing a pop-up at Seoul Salon in Manhattan in August. I’m excited to compare the Korean food they have created for a New York audience with what we make at Miss Kim. 


If you’re like me, you might find yourself appreciating the nuances of Korean cuisine, feeling inspired to try new things with an open mind, and very (very) hungry right about now. Say hello to Chef Ji Hye for me when you get to Miss Kim!

Sara Hudson
Zingerman’s Creative Services Director

 

This interview originally appeared in the May / June edition of Zingerman’s News.

A Korean classic brought to a whole new locally-based level

A few years ago, CNN Travel said that bibimbob was one of the “World’s 50 most delicious foods.” I believe that the bibimbob Ji Hye is cooking up at Miss Kim is some of the best of the best. While you can, of course, grab a flight to Seoul to sample this classic dish in its homeland, it will be quicker, easier, and a lot less costly to just make your way over to Kerrytown, sit down, order a beer or a glass of wine, and let the Miss Kim crew take it from there.

stone bowl bibimbob on a black wood railing with greenery on one sideJi Hye, who was nominated this year for the James Beard Foundation’s “Best Chef: Great Lakes,” says:

Bibimbob is a versatile dish that appeals from the farmers to the kings. The dish is well designed for its casual convenience, even when enjoyed at the palace. I especially love the pantry clean-up and the ancestral ceremonial leftovers origin stories for their practicality. I also love that historical documents mention several different versions of bibimbob. It is still true in Korea these days, as a market stall specializing in bibimbob will show off at least a dozen mounds of vegetables to choose from to your heart’s content.

Though there are a number of different styles of bibimbob, they all feature a bed of rice, fresh local ingredients, and flavorful sauce. It’s the perfect cuisine to see how varied and unique regional Korean food is. Each region takes what is available locally and seasonally and puts its own stamp on it.

Although stone bowls have been used to cook rice in Korea for centuries, stone bowl bibimbob is fairly new, a 20th-century invention. But this is a kind of food evolution I love! Take the tradition and create something new that’s just so delicious. And it is perfect for the Michigan weather, as it keeps your food warm throughout the entire dinner.

Now we offer six types of stone bowl dishes at Miss Kim, some definitely inspired by the regionality of bibimbob:

· Beef bibimbob 

· Tofu bibimbob

· Pork bibimbob over soy butter rice, inspired by Haejoo Gyoban from North Korea where the pork and the oiled rice (in our case, butter) make a rich bibimbob for a cold region

· Mushroom bibimbob with soy paste-based ssamjang, rather than gochujang. All vegan, inspired by Buddhist traditions.

· Potato Rice with potatoes in brown butter and soy butter rice, topped with pickled onions. Inspired by simply cooked rice from mountain regions of Korea

· Kimchi Fried Rice

Come in and enjoy this classic dish served in a traditional stone bowl—keeping your meal hot and delicious until the very last bite!

Book your next visit to Miss Kim now!

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Sign up for Ari’s Top 5 e-newsletter and look forward to his weekly curated email—a roundup of 5 Zing things Ari is excited about this week—stuff you might not have heard of!

Chef Ji Hye Kim in a white apron in front of a painting in her restaurant

A very tasty treasure in Ann Arbor’s culinary ecosystem

One thing I’ve learned from traveling a lot over the years is that often, myself included, we can take local treasures for granted while we’re simultaneously letting ourselves be wowed by what we “discover” when we leave town. When I consider the context of the national culinary scene though, I’m reminded regularly of just how special the story of what Ji Hye and everyone at Miss Kim are doing really is. Here are three BIG reasons to make time to head over to the restaurant soon!

  1. Gain a greater understanding of Korean cooking! While Korean barbecue, kimchi, and a mainstream version of bibimbob have gotten attention in the US in recent years, there is so, so much more to the amazing culinary traditions of the Korean peninsula. Ji Hye has done inspiring deep dives into the cooking of each of South Korea’s nine regions, as well as that of the impossible-for-any-of-us-to-visit-right-now North. She’s also gone back in history to study and cook food from the various Korean royal dynasties and to honor the influences of Japan and China. Each meal at Miss Kim then exemplifies our forty-year-long commitment to traditional food in a wonderfully memorable, exceptionally tasty way. Every visit is a chance to learn about the intricacies of what the thousands of years of rich Korean culture and history are all about.

  2. The quality of Ji Hye’s cooking! Cooking well is not about headlines; to the contrary, it’s mostly about hard work, attention to detail, self-confidence, and an ability to learn from others while staying true to your own sensibilities. At Zingerman’s, we long ago committed to full-flavored food, which we define further to mean complexity, balance, and finish. Ji Hye’s work in the kitchen makes these come alive beautifully on every plate. Which is why food lovers from out of town consistently reach out to tell me how wonderful their meals at Miss Kim were. Kudos and respect to Ji Hye for working so hard and so successfully to master her craft!

  3. Help support one of the many wonderfully positive immigrant stories in the U.S. I’m not here to argue formal immigration policy but it seems clear from any number of studies that the newest generations of immigrants—of which Ji Hye is one—are doing wonderful work to enrich the culture, economy, and educational work of the country. These are the positive stories of immigration, like the one in Malcolm Gladwell’s podcast, that are often not told, but certainly ought to be. Koreans have been coming to the U.S. and contributing positively to every part of the country, since the 1880s. The first significant wave of Korean immigration took place in the first years of the 20th century, about the same time my grandmother came to Chicago from Lithuania. Coming to a new place is not easy. We are all, in our own ways, moving into new “places” in our lives on a regular basis: not just new countries, but new jobs, new relationships, new communities, new stages of our lives. Ji Hye’s work to stay true to herself and yet adapt to local influences and ingredients is a model for the rest of us to learn from.

Whether you come to Miss Kim for lunch or dinner, whether you opt to dine or do carryout, you have the chance to benefit from all this and more with every visit. I feel fortunate to have someone as special as Ji Hye as a long-standing part of the ZCoB and here in Ann Arbor. In recent years, Miss Kim has gotten well-deserved recognition from Food and Wine, the James Beard Foundation, Bon AppétitThe New York Times, and more! Our town has been getting more and more recognition as one of the best places to live in the U.S. in great part for the richness of its cultural, and culinary, resources. Miss Kim, quietly, is a big part of what makes that happen. Kudos to Ji Hye and everyone in the restaurant for making the Miss Kim story so tasty and inspiring!

Book your next visit to Miss Kim!

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Sign up for Ari’s Top 5 e-newsletter and look forward to his weekly curated email—a roundup of 5 Zing things Ari is excited about this week—stuff you might not have heard of!

John Lennon once said, “A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality.” I love the creative reality that emerges when two parts of our organization come together to make something magical happen. Like this—a special, never-happened-before event at the Roadhouse that will feature the amazing Ji Hye Kim, the managing partner and head chef at Miss Kim. While Ji Hye and her crew have built themselves an increasingly loyal (and vocally so—almost every day now someone stops me to say how much they love it) clientele for all the intricate and excellent flavors of traditional Korean food (some of it from centuries-old recipes), this special dinner will honor the food of the Korean-American community—a coming together of two rich culinary cultures to create a very memorable meal.

While it happened seemingly by accident that this dinner was the 222nd one we’ve scheduled at the Roadhouse, the number itself is significant. In a Tarot deck, 222 is an “angel number,” which, for those in the numerological know, “resonates with ancient wisdom, vision, idealism, and transformation.” It represents creation, the beginning of new things, of something special happening. 222, it turns out, is timely: it’s spring, a new season. It’s also the beginning of Miss Kim’s ascendance to the reputation that syncs up with the quality of food the restaurant is already providing. Stephen Satterfield, the nationally-recognized writer and founder of the incredible, New York Times-recognized Whetstone magazine (available for sale at the Roadhouse) says, “to dine at Miss Kim is to taste [Ji Hye’s] taste memory, her learned and earnest love of recrafting the food from which she is constituted, adapted for the place in which she stands.” Ji Hye’s food, he goes on to say, is “hyper-local, very seasonal, and as much an approach to life as it is a bowl of food.” This dinner will also be a celebration of all the cool new stuff that’s happening at the Roadhouse.

While she might have learned how to cook from her mom, Ji Hye learned how to cook “restaurant food” at the Roadhouse—this dinner is a chance for her to pay homage to her two culinary homes—Korea and the Roadhouse. The menu will feature dishes like LA galbi (marinated, BBQ-short ribs developed by Korean immigrants who settled in Los Angeles), a very special version of bibimbob that will feature Roadhouse pulled pork, mini burgers with quail eggs and napa kimchi, fries with tteokbokki and cheese curds, a special Roadhouse-inspired kimchi, a silken tofu stew, matcha chiffon cake from the Bakehouse, and more.

See the full menu for the dinner here.

Here’s a little snippet of the history of Korean immigration into the U.S. to give you some context for the dinner:

Ahn Chang Ho and Lee Hye-ryeon were the first Korean couple to immigrate to America—they came to the west coast in 1902—the same year in which the Deli’s historic building was built. Ahn Chang Ho, known also as Dosan, went on to become a significant social activist. Committed to bringing kindness and care into the immigrant community, he founded the Chinmokhoe Friendship Society in 1903, the first Korean organization in the continental United States. “To pick even one orange with sincerity in an American orchard will make a contribution to our country,” he declared. Later, he campaigned hard for Korean independence. Arrested by Japanese authorities, he was asked if he would cease his struggle. His response: “No, I cannot. When I eat, I eat for Korean independence. When I sleep, I sleep for Korean independence. This will not change as long as I live. As all the Korean people want their independence, Korean independence will become reality; as world opinion favors Korean independence, it will become reality; and as Heaven orders Korean independence, Korea will surely become independent.”

Join us for this special Korean-American meal!

Tuesday, April 10 at the Roadhouse 7:00 pm $75.00. Seats are limited! Check out the full menu here.

 

Our first annual MissKimJang is Monday, November 6 at Miss Kim. We’ll be celebrating our one year anniversary with this very special Korean tradition. Chef Ji Hye Kim will kick off the event by sharing her deep personal and culinary knowledge of kimchi and KimJang. Attendees will get to make their own kimchi, and we’ll have lots of food, too! Grab a seat before it sells out.

Here’s a preview from Ji-Hye Kim:

KimJang is the annual making and sharing of kimchi. It is an annual event that is at the very core of Korean community. In fact, in some ways almost the entire Korean year is marked by preparations for the annual ritual of KimJang. In spring, shrimp, anchovy and other seafood is set for salting and fermenting. In summer, sea salt is bought for the brine. In late summer, red chili peppers are dried and ground into powder. Finally, in late autumn, or the tenth moon of the Korean Lunar Calendar, it’s KimJang time! Communities coming together to work on the harvest and to make massive amounts of kimchi. Communities working hard together, all hands on deck, to ensure that every home has enough for the long, harsh winter to come.

At Miss Kim, we’re pretty passionate about kimchi and KimJang. In our minds, both are at the very core of what we’re trying to do at Miss Kim—to respectfully represent the Korean cuisine and culture and honor Korean traditions. Kimchi is an inexorable part of the former and KimJang an inexorable part of the latter.

Come to our KimJang Event!

Here’s what she had to say:

G: Why is making kimchi during KimJang relatable to life and death?

JI HYE KIM: The answer to that question starts in Rome. Yes. A story about kimchi and KimJang starts in Rome, Italy. Right before I opened the restaurant, I was living in an extended internship of sorts at the American Academy in Rome. The program was called the Rome Sustainable Food Project—Alice Waters’ brainchild and a brilliant experience.

In that way that life works, one of my fellow travelers at the American Academy was a Korean-American woman—a painter who just happened to be deeply interested in food!

I’d impulsively made a small batch of kimchi for one of the interns who was leaving the program—and now I wanted to make more. My new- found friend and I decided we’d have our own little version of KimJang right there in Rome.

We got all the vegetables we needed from the amazing Mercato Esquilino in Piazza Vittorio. It is one of the largest markets in Rome and is some- times called the immigrant’s market because you can get just about everything there—from traditional Italian produce and delicacies to mangoes and avocados. Then we went to a Korean shop for the ingredients of the filling and we got down to making kimchi.

It was while we were chatting and making kimchi that she said to me:“When you’re making, you have to walk the fine line between life and death.”Those words really resonated with me.Today, we make kimchi at Miss Kim all the time and those words ring even truer.When you brine the cabbage, it is no longer fresh and alive—the real skill in making kimchi is to preserve the crunchiness that the leaves have when the cabbage is alive. In doing so, we prolong its life. Or you could say, we suspend its death.

When I think of the tradition of KimJang, I think it is also walking the fine line between life and death. It’s a communal tradition that goes back so many centuries but it is also so individualistic—an ingenious form of self-expression while also creating community. But it is also a dying tradition. Making kimchi is really hard work— people don’t have the time or energy for all the prepping, brining and dressing that the process requires. The family recipes that were the vehicles for that self expression are being lost.

But, I firmly believe that the tradition of KimJang still has the capacity to survive, and thrive! As long as kimchi remains an essential part of Korean cuisine, KimJang will have a way to be part of Korean culture. Much like we do with the food and our local ingredients at Miss Kim, I’d like to inter- pret the tradition of KimJang and keep it alive in the restaurant.

G: You mentioned individualism and family recipes. At least in the west, kimchi is most popularly thought of as one thing. That red condiment that is served with Korean food. Explain it to us.

JHK: When we say “in the West,” we’re talking about Napa Cabbage kimchi. That’s the kimchi everyone thinks about when they think about Korean food. But kimchi in Korean food can be made of any number of salted and fermented vegetables. Kimchi is the idea of preserving vegetables when they are in season so that they can be eaten all year long. Just about every culture has this tradition of preservation to prepare for the winter months—be it vegetables, meats, or milk.

The most common and the most consumed form of kimchi, is indeed, Napa cabbage kimchi. KimJang occurs in late autumn because it’s when the Napa cabbage and Mu radish are in season. But even within Napa cabbage kimchi, there are variations. Hundreds, if not thousands of recipes, varying by region, wealth, family and ultimately, the individual making the kimchi. Even when the ingredients are exactly the same, self-expression comes through the proportion of the ingredients. There are over 200 documented recipes for kimchi because every fam- ily does it differently.

My mother’s kimchi was her signature. And it said a lot about her. She preferred to honor the flavors of the ingredients rather than subdue them with seasoning. That she came from a region of Korea (around Seoul) where they emphasize clean, subtle flavors, tend to serve small- er portions and have a keen eye for presentation. There’s a definite regionality to kimchi. The farther south you go, the spicier, funkier and punchier the kimchi gets. The farther north you go, the milder it gets.

G: Tell us your very first memory of KimJang.

JHK: I remember my mother sitting in a room and kind of think- ing out loud. It was the day before KimJang. Should we do 50 heads of cabbage or 100 heads of cabbage? My child brain might very well be embellishing or exaggerating those numbers but I was tiny back then—maybe 4 or 5 years old…

This was in Seoul. Back then we lived in an old fashioned house in one of the crowded, older neighborhoods. Our house was old and needed updating. My mother just about hated it, but I have a lot of great memories of that house. My mom’s little outdoor area where she kept her fermented sauces and pastes—witches potions they looked like, with mold and floating bits—brewing in those rustic black pots of hers. Miso pastes, soy sauce, you name it. I remember the feeling of abundance that KimJang brought. There were so, so many heads of Napa cabbage. The kimchi was made outside on the veranda, not in the kitchen. All the women and all the cabbage wouldn’t have fit in our kitchen!

I remember women coming to our house from the neighborhood. I remember them squatting in the yard. The piles and piles of Napa cabbage—heads cut in half. Brine. Drain. Make the filling separate- ly. Fish sauce. Mu Radish—sweet and juicy from the cooler fall tem- peratures, unlike the spicier summer radish. Four or five women to a large mixing bowl—more like a big tub when I think about it.

I remember the vibrant colors. White. Purple. Green. Bright red plastic gloves bought by the dozen. All the women wearing them. I remember the searing red of the chile flakes—my mother would sun dry the chiles on picnic mats all summer while they were in season. But most of all, I remember the feeling of community. The laughing and talking. The hard, hard work. I remember how there was this unspoken but very tangible awareness that we would be eating what was being made for months and months and months.

G: What does KimJang mean to you?

JHK: Back then, when I was a little kid, what I recall is that KimJang was a lot of work but I didn’t do any. I remember my mother, fingers glistening with spices, popping these bite sized Napa cabbage wraps into my mouth. ‘It’s delicious,’ she’d say, which was strange because it was that spicy, pungent, salty filling and cabbage. But I always obediently opened my mouth. Later we’d have it with braised pork belly for dinner.

I remember that when it was KimJang time, my mom didn’t seem as stressed out as usual, even when she was planning it. She would catch me stealing the sweet mu radishes and eating them like Asian pears and teasingly warn me about the terrible flatulence it was going to give me.

And I remember there was just a lot of talking and laughter and it was really powerful to see all these women do their work. It was their day. Unlike when they cooked for the Korean festivals, there wasn’t any- one to serve afterwards, even them- selves. And the social and cultural hierarchy didn’t matter. There were all equals, hanging out and having fun. I loved witnessing that and now I long to recreate it.

G: How has KimJang changed?

JHK : When I was in the second grade we moved from our traditional house in the old neighborhood to an apartment complex in a more modern neighborhood. We still did KimJang but the community thing was hard to pull off in an apartment complex. I don’t remember those magical moments in the yard but I do remember this—I remember being asked to keep watch while my mom and my aunties [the bio- logical variety and the neighborhood variety!] dug a hole in the flower beds of the apartment complex and buried these giant jars of kimchi (I could have fit in them) and then cover them with leaves.

The story of KimJang when we came to America? [laughs] It gets really sad. My mother worked 18 hours a day. She still did KimJang but it was completely different. Back in Seoul, during KimJang season, guys would appear in our neighborhood with pickup trucks and megaphones to announce their presence. My mom would go out and get our Napa cabbage from them. Or she would go to the largest vegetable market in Seoul to get the cabbage—imagine a farmer’s market on steroids! Needless to say, this is not what happened once we moved to America. Instead, most Korean Americans we knew just drove a few miles to a Korean grocery store and bought jars of pre-made kimchi.

Even in Korea, there are now a million sources of pre-made kimchi— kimchi factories! And for the slightly more diligent or picky, thousands of sources of the components of kimchi. You can just make the filling at home and buy pre-brined cabbage.

No matter if in America or Korea, I cannot imagine my mother buying pre-made kimchi. She knows too well that the texture and flavor of kimchi is all in the brining, so even when we came to America, she still made our kimchi from scratch but it was not seasonal and definitely not as communal. She might have had help from my brother and shared it with my aunt but it didn’t feel like the magical communal event we used to have when we were in Seoul.

G: You’re hosting your own version of KimJang, MissKimJang, in the restaurant in November. What are you trying to do with it? What are you trying to make of it?

JHK: In some ways, we’re trying to do the same thing that we do with the food. Honor Korean cuisine and tradition in our little corner of Michigan—with its signature seasons and produce. We try to study and read as much as we can so that we might understand the intent behind and evolution of the recipes and be able to thoughtfully interpret and evolve them for Michigan. We try to serve food that evokes feelings just as much as we’re trying to authentically represent the flavors.

And I’d say, that’s what we’re trying to do with this annual tradition of MissKimJang.

Don’t miss a chance to experience this fun, cultural event. We only have 40 spots for MissKimJang, so grab yours today!

Our new Country Miche and Miss Kim’s Baguette are available now at the Bakehouse

Introducing Miss Kim’s Baguette and Country Miche!

This spring we we’ve perfected two new loaves at Zingerman’s Bakehouse, Miss Kim’s Baguette and Country Miche. They are both full flavored, crusty, moist and using interesting grains and method for production.

We began working on the Miss Kim Baguette in January. We wanted to improve the baguette that we made a few years ago for Ji Hye (Managing partner of Miss Kim) She used to run a monthly special Banh Mi sandwich at the Delicatessen. While that bread was good and contained a bit of rice flour, we had the opportunity to make it even more special.

The new Miss Kim’s Baguette has a fragrant moist crumb and a thin crisp crust

We started with Anson Mills Carolina Gold rice flour (an organic and heritage rice) and used our original recipe. While we liked it a lot, but we still wanted feature the rice flour more. So we decided to continue to refine the recipe.The original recipe called for a mush by cooking rice flour and water. We then decided to add rice flour to the poolish in the recipe. The poolish is preferment usually consisting of equal weights of flour and water with a tiny amount of yeast and allowed to ferment for 12 hours. While this modification made the baguette a bit tastier, we still felt like we hadn’t hit a bullseye. Toasting some rice flour and adding it to the poolish was a pièce de résistance!

Our mush made of Carolina Gold rice flour and the poolish made of rice flour and toasted rice flour, created a dough that bakes into a moist, slightly sweet, and aromatic baguette. It’s best baked with some color to compliment the moist and tasty crumb.

You can try our rice baguette at Miss Kim (our really great Korean restaurant). Order a Banh Mi for lunch and see for yourself how full flavored it is. Or come to our Bakeshop for lunch on Monday and Tuesday to taste the baguette on a Big Bob’s Kentucky Ham Slam. Or just pick one up from the Bakeshop at the Bakehouse or the Bread Box at the Delicatessen and serve it with some of your favorite cheese from Zingerman’s Creamery. You’ve got options!

Miss Kim baguettes are available daily now at Zingerman’s Bakehouse, Delicatessen, or Miss Kim.

Our next project of the spring was to pay tribute to old style country breads that use a combination of grains. Our Country Miche features True North flour from the Leelanau peninsula in northern Michigan. We love this bread because it has a hearty amount of rye flour, a bit of whole spelt and a bit of whole buckwheat. It’s turning out to be my favorite new bread of the past 15 years.

Country Miche is a sour dough bread but the sour dough isn’t the dominant flavor that you taste. You can taste a delicious combination of grains and it has a deep caramel like finish due to baking with a super dark crust. We’ve been baking them in 2 kilo loaves as they would have been baked a couple of centuries ago. Even with the dark bake, they remain moist and flavorful for far more than a week.

Our Country Miche and Miss Kim’s Baguette are now available!

Here’s the story of how it’s made: It has it’s own unique starter which is fed and allowed to ferment for 12 hours or so. We autolyse the rest of the flours and water (it’s an 83% hydration bread which means it’s really wet) for two hours. Then add the starter and salt a bit more water and gently mix it for 2 minutes. We fold it three times at 30-minute intervals; allow it to ferment for an additional 2 ½ hours before dividing it. After a preshaping it rests for 30 minutes or so, gets a gentle final shaping and then into the large baskets where it is allowed to get it’s final fermentation before baking. It’s bake for a bit more than an hour at about 450º. Then it needs to cool for a couple of hours or ideally overnight. Then slice it and enjoy!

Country Miche is available (whole, ½ or ¼ loaf) in August at Zingerman’s Bakehouse or Delicatessen.