#pajeon

Published on Youtube 7/23/2019 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AVuxj44pm74

One thing I learned growing up in America is that Americans love pancakes. Pancakes were always on TV from morning to night I'd see, come on over to IHOP! Even the TV shows would have pancakes! Despite their ubiquity, every American child's face would beam at the idea of having them for breakfast. Whenever I would go to my white friend's house they would jump for joy when their mom told them that we were going to be having pancakes. I didn't care for them though. The flavors were too sweet. I craved something savory. I'm more of a texture kind of gal and their aroma was one note for my nose- no versatility. Where's the pizzazz? 

Koreans though- we got pancake DOWN. We got good pancakes up in here! Ever since I was a child, Kimchi buchimage were my favorite! Their spice tantalized my tongue. The red-orange sheen excited my eyes, and don't get me started on their smell. Fermented pickled

sweet goodness swirled up in red hot chili flakes? With one strong inhale my fate was sealed.

I would often watch my 할머니 make these for dinner. Whenever I heard that distinct crunch of the knife against these fermented cabbages, I knew Kimchijeon was on the menu. Seeing those red juices of spices not found in any supermarket left me gagged- that means awestruck- and the flour mixed in with the kimchi gave the concoction an amazing bright blood orange tint that warmed my heart.

During these cooking sessions I could never really be of service to my 할머니. She had that skill that all grandmas and moms seem to have. She could cook effortlessly without measuring a single thing. When I was little and my Korean was at peak perfection, I would often ask my 할머니, how do you know how much kimchi to put in? How much of the kimchi juice? How long do you mix it for? With each prying question my 할머니 would shrug and say she just knew. She wasn't going to tell me. So the kimchi pancake recipe remained her secret for me to never find out.

PT: As I grew older, the questions I would pose to my 할머니 became far and few. Not because my curiosity died, but because my linguistic capacity was sacrificed for the sake of assimilation. Over time society would chop away at my authentic self to get to that American part that was palatable to the mainstream. My artful way of speaking became choppy, my vocab choice, crunchy like the knife against the kimchi. 

PT: But my 할머니 and I didn't need the art of conversation. We had Kimchi buchimage.

I didn't need complex sentences to convey that I loved watching my 할머니 cook. I didn't need a rich vocabulary to convey how much I loved eating my 할머니 food. My mouthful of Kimchi buchimage said it all. My intent focus on her cooking was my diction, my full mouth the syntax, and the presentation of my empty plate was the compound sentence that asked my 할머니, seconds please?

PT: It's been about four years since my 할머니 passed away. I haven't stopped eating Kimchi buchimage, though. That crunch still lives on, and whenever I hear that knife against the kimchi, I half expect to see my 할머니 in the kitchen, refusing to tell me her amazing recipe. When I look down at my empty plate I think about how much I still miss her. The Kimchi buchimage will never be as good as hers, but the aftertaste reminds me so much of her that it compels me

each time to ask for more until I'm a hundred percent full on memory.

If there's a heaven, I hope my 할머니 is up there making pancakes for all the white folks.

Crispy Haemul Pajeon (Korean Seafood + Green Onion Pancake) 🦐🧅

Scallion “bed,” seafood scatter, cold batter, one flip. Haemul Pajeon is crunchy at the edges, tender inside, and built for soy-vinegar dipping. Brunch plate or game-night winner—your call.

Quick list: scallions, mixed seafood (shrimp/squid), flour, potato starch, cold water, egg, oil, salt/pepper. Dip: soy, vinegar, sugar, sesame, chili.

Crispy Haemul Pajeon (Korean Seafood + Scallion Pancake) 🍤🧅

Scallion “bed,” seafood scatter, cold batter, one confident flip. Haemul Pajeon is crunchy at the edges, tender inside, and built for soy-vinegar dipping. Brunch plate or game-night winner—your call.

Quick list: scallions, mixed seafood (shrimp/squid), flour, potato starch, cold water, egg, oil, salt/pepper. Dip: soy, vinegar, sugar, sesame, gochugaru.