Battle Kimchi (Or in the words of Eric Cartman, "Simple, Rustic, Yeah?")

Last weeks announcement from Claudio Aprile that he was shutting the doors at Colborne Lane might have one day carried the Siesmic force to unleash a tsunami on the Toronto culinary community. He is after all, one of the most celebrated chefs in the country, and Colborne was the very flagship of his soul. In its prime it was a DEFINITIVE it-spot here in Toronto, and confidently carried the banner of molecular gastronomy over the palates of the rich and hungry.



Instead of a tsunami, it was more of a ripple of displacement. Nothing more than a large man exiting a tub of tepid bathwater.



Its no insult to Chef Aprile, whose Origin franchise has far outshined its ambitious predecessor. More a reflection of an evolution that's happened upon us almost overnight. Molecular gastronomy has died a quiet death at the hands of the proletariat. Peasant food has slayed its elitist oppressor in a quiet revolution. What began with the rise of charcuterie and country pickling, and continued as rustic Italian came into the hearts and minds, came into its stride with Ramen sensation. Before we knew it, the food snobs of Toronto had turned in full embrace toward the peasant foods of the world.



Suddenly the city's hottest chefs came from food trucks. The Top 10 lists no longer were the realm of white linen table tops, relinquishing top spots to the Burger Priest and Porchetta and Co. (much to the chagrin of the traditionalists like Chef Challet at Ici Bistro). Nowadays even that heavy handed Bistro fare has been torn down to simper roots (read the Lobster Roll and Bisque shooter at 416 Snackbar). Lobster Tail has been relegated to a garnish to a Bloody Ceasar at Rock Lobster. Yorkville's elite grab their best burger with a side of BIg Mac sauce at Mark McEwan's ONE. Young executives and Stepford Wives stand side by each in 2 hour cues for tacos served with a side of hip hop. Canada's Best New Restaurant as awarded by MacLean's Magazine, featured the foods of that most maligned culinary attrocity, the British Pub (gasp!).



I am hearing Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are A Changin" in an entirely new light.

Kimchi demonstration by Seung Ah Kim

This past weekend I had the pleasure of being invited to Battle Kimchi, the brainchild of "Seoul Food" maverick Sang Kim, hosted at his new Baldwin Street spot, Yakitori Bar. Kimchi is perhaps the ultimate "peasant food". A Korean culinary tradition passed on almost entirely through oral traditions passed down from mothers to daughters, this is as close as food gets to speaking the very heart of a culture. Sang's event not only featured some of the tastiest food I've enjoyed in some time, but also went to great lengths to speak to the sacred nature this culinary tradition held for his culture.



When I first hatched the idea for The Red Devil Blog you have haphazardly stumbled upon, I sought to host a mother daughter kimchi battle with Scarpeta's Pastry Chef Chloe. Sadly this never materialized. Fortunately Sang came to my rescue a couple years later, transforming his Korean gastro pub into Kitchen Stadium. The Battle Kimchi. 6 Chefs, 2 plates and a title on the line (as well as a place on the next Yakitori Menu).

 

Judges Table

The raw kimchi plates were all simply outstanding. The most innovative coming from Vancouver courtesy of kathy Kim, who was bold in electing to forgo chili pepper, rendering the cabbage and radish fermentation almost unrecognizable. Until the first bite that is. Super cool. Really it was impossible to discern a winner here, save for the best selections being older variants than their competitors.



It was in the applied plates that a curious divide emerged, not unlike what is unfolding in the restaurants of the city. Three of the competitors decided upon plates that while inventive, were entirely reflective of their Korean roots. Korean Story-teller Seung Ah Kim's a traditionalists dream, harmonizing beautifully between, form, function, tradition and taste. It was a perfect dish and by far the highlight of the night. Belle Park, local Caterer featured a dish based around Soba noodles. Perhaps lacking in functionality, it was striking in flavor and entirely rooted in her culture. Host Sang's sushi fusion was in keeping with the Japanese influence on his Korean dishes at Yakitori.

Mr. Park sharing his wife's noodles

On the other side a series of plates, that while tasty, even irresistible, were clear attempts at pandering to North American culture. Rebekka Hutton of Alchemy Pickle wowed many with her Kim-Cheese, a fermented radish grilled cheese bite. Sun Mi Kim, mother and student, fell flat with her Kimchi Pancake. Sure, we like pancakes over here...but lost entirely was anything that makes kimchi such an alluring trip to flavor country.  Kathy Kim's Kimchi Poutine was the talk of the room, but despite its strengths, like each of the other "fusion" dishes, there was a concrete absence of soul.



The next phase of the event was a spoken word concert featuring traditional Korean strings, told by Seung Ah Kim, relating a charming tale of Kimchi's inception as the spirit of a dead mother attempted to reunite her estranged sons. This was followed by an equally captivating demonstration on how to make kimchi yourself. Our bellies overflowing in cabbage, the crowd stood in awe and appreciation, and left with a better understanding of exactly what the kimchi experience is.

The Red Devil rubs shoulders with the Best in Show 

The heart of peasant food is not entirely rooted in taste. Rather in tradition, and more importantly what these traditions mean for the human condition. It is about the coming together of family. It is about living from what the ground gives us. Its funny that while the luddites fear the digital world has robbed us of our sense of community and personal interaction, they seem oblivious to this rise in culinary culture that is rekindling our raw humanity. The more things change, the more they stay the same. From this lens, I see it as an inescapable reaction to our own growth. All is never lost so long as the human spirit shines its light. We should learn to trust ourselves a little more.



Then again, all that food renders one a little light-headed. It might just be all that fermented vege speaking.