Late November kicks off the Kimjang season, the annual
festive period across the land of Korea just before winter,                                                  
and I have returned to Kimchi. Seneca urged: daily, acquire                                                  
something to better prepare yourself against fortune which
gives and takes away. The simple and down-to-earth gift                                                 
from culture seems worthy of a practising Stoic.                                                                 

It's been a long time, one and a half years to be exact,
since I last made the stuff. Diet experiments took me away
and the last batch went too sour. Recently, my wife started                                                  
buying it in plastic jars and from it I made Tim's favorite
Sundubu Jjigae. Then, all of a sudden, I started to miss the                                                 
joy of kimchi.                                                                                               

Following Maangchi's simple recipe, I made my 14th batch                                                  
on Veteran's Day with about 6.4lbs of napa cabbages (白菜),                                                       
went through it in two weeks, and made a 7.2-lb batch on                                                          
Thansgiving Saturday.                                                                                        

At the workplace, Indian colleagues back from vacation often                                                 
broadcast to share sweets. Back from Beijing, I have never
done anything similar. Receiving only does not feel good and                                                 
sharing shouldn't be a monopoly. Well. Kimjang is all about                                                      
sharing and here's my chance.                                                                                

My co-workers S and L did not even know what kimchi was                                               
when I proudly showed them the picture. Only M the Iranian
was acquainted. I couldn't help but feeling evangelical simply                                                   
because I was from that geographical and cultural region.                                                      

What came as a surprise was that most Indian team-members
turned out to be vegetarian. One neighbor asked about it and                                                 
when I told him it had shrimp in it, just thanked me and turned
away. Others seemed as thrilled as when a cow herd was                                                     
informed of a plate of roasted turkey nearby.                                                                           

It's hard to relish kimchi without fish sauce or salted shrimp.
I might try to do with soy sauce and skip the shrimp next time.
Nonetheless, the message is out: someone from the East is
confident enough to share a unique product of culture. And, for now, that's good enough.