Korean cuisine, once a niche market in the US, has experienced a meteoric rise in popularity, with dishes like gimbap and bibimbap becoming household names. This surge can be attributed to various factors, including increased cultural exchange, globalization, and endorsements from influential figures like Gwyneth Paltrow known for her advocacy of healthy living and diverse culinary experiences. But why has Korean food captured the American palate so dramatically? Is it the umami-rich flavors, the communal aspect of dining, or perhaps the cultural allure of exploring new culinary horizons?
It is true that Korean cuisine’s growing presence in mainstream media and the proliferation of Korean restaurants across the US have fueled its popularity. But the real appeal of Korean food seems to lie in its harmonious blend of flavors, fresh ingredients, and visually appealing presentation. Gimbap’s savory rice rolls and bibimbap’s colorful assortment of vegetables and proteins offer a satisfying and nutritious dining experience that resonates with health-conscious consumers.
Korean food is considered less structured, closer to nature and embodying the belief that what you eat builds who you are. The identity of Korean food has undergone a crisis as Korean taste buds have experienced diverse stimuli, such as grilled cheese on tomato sauce sitting on oven-baked thin dough and stir-fried shrimp mixed with vegetables in a spray of fish sauce and sprinkle of freshly squeezed lemon juice. In my personal observation, two of the most common culinary encounters on main streets have become Italian and Vietnamese. The rise of their popularity might have something to do with the increasing number of Koreans traveling abroad and having a chance to taste new foods. Quite expectedly, the consumption of rice, which has been a main staple of Korean cuisine for so long, fell to 56.4kg per person per year in 2023 from 110.2kg per person in 1993. (khan.co.kr)
The search for the essence of Korean food was crucial to maintaining the appetite for Korean cuisine, as what Koreans eat directly impacts the financial state of the Korean agricultural industry. The National Agricultural Cooperative Foundation, boasting 2.5 million farmer members and approximately 15 million associate members (Wikipedia), launched a campaign promoting Korean produce with the catchphrase that local farm products are best for Koreans. Their campaign premise was that Korean agricultural products are clean, natural, and embody the essence of Korean identity. However vague it may have sounded, the campaign succeeded, and the myth of Korean food in harmony with nature and preserving its essence emerged. But as seen in the decline in rice consumption, the campaign did not avert the general trend of Koreans losing interest in Korean food. Nevertheless, the idea has endured.
The documentary The Wandering Chef (2019) follows Lim Ji-ho (1956–2021), who pushed the idea of Korean food to the utmost extreme and turned it into an exquisite art form. Whether or not you agree that Korean food is more natural and healthier, there is no argument that he was a culinary artist who ventured into a new way of relating to nature through food. Known as the wandering chef throughout his life, Lim traveled across Korea as well as to far-flung corners of the globe to collect new ingredients for his culinary creations. In his food universe, cooking is a way to be part of nature. Never intrusive or objectifying, his cooking demonstrates how to appreciate what nature has provided and to learn its beauty in full bloom.
The documentary is on Netflix, but unfortunately, no English subtitles are available. (Please have it translated!) Yet, it won’t be a problem for anyone to enjoy the Korean landscapes in ever-changing seasonal lights presented from an almost Zen-like meditative distance, and to take pleasure in finding the dwarfed human being by nature’s wonder, roaming around for new inspiration for his cooking. If this is a development from the idea of Korean food being natural and healthy, it outweighs its source in terms of its profound insight into how we relate to nature.