We make a lot of kimchi around here, about 30 gallons a month in the busy season. I remember fondly the origin of our kimchi adventure. Sitting at the worn homestead table of my dear friend Amber, a crock of beautiful stank was opened and I tasted this unique kimchi for the first time. Not your Korean grandma’s kimchi, but an opportunistic, Appalachain variety, using whatever the garden had aplenty. This was not only napa cabbage, but lots of red cabbage, red and daikon radish, carrots, and a random selection of peppers and chilis. The result was magic, a bright pink flutter on the palate, and within a week Tod had his first humble 6 quart batch bubbling over its cambro on the dry goods shelf.
And we’ve never gone back.
Later, the Buddha bowl was born, and Kaitlin invented the Thunderbird, namesake the 20 quart mixer, and when Smiling Hara rolled out restaurant packs of its delicious tempeh, the Thunderbean joined the ranks. It is available as a side for your sandwich, and true to Tod, we will put it on anything you order. Its deliciousness is uncontested, and that would be the end, except for one thing…
It’s not your traditional pile of dim red chili and napa cabbage. We do not bury it, and we use what the local farmers grow (watermelon radish is AWESOME).
I shall not go into defending our recipe by citing the numerous varieties of kimchi in Korea itself, but instead, get to the point.
Should we rename it? Todchi sounded silly, and here we are.