3-ingredient kimchi-bokkeum-bap (김치볶음밥)

2024-08-03

Notes and Commentary

Truthfully, I have no idea how many servings this recipe makes. I guess it depends on how much you eat? Kimchi fried rice is always good, and having leftover kimchi fried rice you can warm up in the fridge is even better.

Kimchi is a central part of Korean cuisine, and, by extension, culture. I once gave a presentation about kimchi at the UBC computer science department's casual presentation series: the Un-Distinguished Lecture Series (UDLS).

Recipe

Ingredients

Prep

Step 1: Rice

If you're using fresh rice, allow it to come up to at least room temperature. Otherwise, you might end up with a particularly goopy fried rice. When I have to use fresh rice, I stick the rice in the fridge before I start any of the other steps.

Step 2: Kimchi and Pork

Lightly drain your cups of kimchi, reserving the "kimchi water" for later. Roughly chop into whatever size you desire; big chunks, small chunks, it's all good.

Take your pork belly and roughly slice them into bite-sized chunks. I like mine to be a little bit larger; I think the chewy parts of pork belly in my kimchi fried rice is one of the best parts.

Step 3: Assembly

Get a large skillet (one that'll be able to hold all the ingredients you just prepped), and start warming it over medium- to high-heat. Add the pork belly and fry it. You can season with salt and pepper if you want, but I find that if you have decent kimchi (most supermarket kimchi is fine, particularly once it's fermented), you actually don't need any additional seasoning. This part gets a little splattery, so either cover the skillet or accept the fact that your kitchen will be covered in a thin film of pork fat.

Add the kimchi as the pork belly nearly finishes frying. You shouldn't have to add any oil because pork belly is an extremely fatty cut of meat already and there should be plenty in the pan from it. If your pan is too oily, drain some of the oil.

Add the rice to the mixture, and mix well using a ladle or rubber spatula until the kimchi and pork is evenly distributed across all of it. If the rice seems a bit dry, add the kimchi water you reserved from earlier.

Epilogue

Kimchi-bokkeum-bap feels like one of those things that every Korean person who grew up with Korean food has an opinion about, including yours truly.

Some people like it made with fresh kimchi (geotjeori), while others insist that it's made with old, very-fermented kimchi (mugeunji). I've seen it made with a dollop of gochujang added to give it an additional depth of flavour and a surprising smokiness, or with a fried egg on top, maybe some crushed gim and sesame seeds added as garnish. For the particularly hedonistic, a Kraft single might be the ultimate addition.

There was a time when I would scoff and turn my nose up at what I would have considered unnecessary frivolities like Kraft singles or cheese, throwing around the word inauthentic like it meant anything.

Not anymore.

I want to say that I've grown as a person, but maybe the real answer is: who cares?. Everyone's version of this dish is authentic in its own way. Maybe the Kraft cheese was hastily thrown in as extra filler during final exam season, or the gim added a much-needed pinch of seasoning because the kimchi wasn't salty enough.

Maybe it's just the way your mom made it.

I love kimchi, and I'd gladly munch on it as a snack right out of its plastic container in front of an open fridge. In fact, I've done that too many times than I care to admit. But I actually didn't start eating it until I was in either the 5th or 6th grade. I'm not entirely sure why my love for kimchi took so long to take; maybe moving away from Korea at an earlier age had an effect — I wanted to fit in, and eating kimchi at the lunch table wasn't something that good kids from North America did, at least at the time.

Looking back on this, it's a dumb view, and I'm feeling a bit sheepish as I'm writing this. But I think at that age, kimchi was something that symbolized the "other"; a literally pungent reminder that no, I wasn't really from "here," whatever that meant. I suspect that was probably what was going on at the time, even if elementary school aged James didn't know it. Or maybe I've read too many sappy blog posts about growing up as an Asian-American immigrant, and I'm just trying to neatly paint myself into one of those templates. That would be ironic.

My kimchi-bokkeum-bap recipe comprises 3 ingredients — kimchi, rice, and pork belly, not because it's the best or the most authentic or traditional form of the dish. It's just what I grew up eating.