By Raza Syed (Paris,France)
Amid the vibrant hues of Paris’s Montmartre harvest festival, where wine flows and autumn leaves dance, an unexpected elegance emerged from the East this year. I met Ms. Kim Doeun, a poised guardian of Korea’s culinary heritage, at her pavilion where she represented the Republic of Korea and her home town of Andong. Drawing from the ancient wisdom of Suwun Japbang, a 16th-century household compendium, she was there to unveil the subtle sophistication of Korean domestic culture to European palates.
“I am here as a representative of Korea and Andong,” Ms. Kim began, her voice steady amid the festival’s chatter. “Korean food is often seen abroad as quick street eats or bold snacks, but in Andong, the refined cuisine of the yangban nobility lives on through written records like Suwun Japbang. It shapes our national identity and deserves to be shared with the dignity it embodies.”
Her eyes lit up as she delved into the manuscript’s storied past. “This treasure dates back to the mid-15th century and has been passed down through my family for generations,” she explained. “Family legend says it was once buried in the earth during turbulent times to protect it—a testament to our commitment to heritage.”
For her, this isn’t just a book; it’s a living emblem. “As a daughter-in-law in the jongga system, I inherit this responsibility, and one day, my own daughter-in-law will do the same,” she said, drawing a parallel to Europe’s guild traditions of craft inheritance. Through recipes, rituals, and household lore, Suwun Japbang weaves family, womanhood, and tradition into a matrilineal tapestry.
Beyond mere recipes, it encompasses preservation techniques, seasonal wisdom, rituals, and hospitality etiquette. The “daughter-in-law chain” echoes European artisan lineages, ensuring cultural continuity. And as cultural IP, it opens doors to gastronomic collaborations, publishing, curation, and media partnerships in Europe.
At the tasting counter, the aroma of Andong Hanwoo bulgogi wafted gently, drawing curious festival-goers. “In Suwun Japbang, we find recipes for braised beef that honor simplicity,” Ms. Kim described. “Our bulgogi today uses soy sauce and sesame oil to amplify the beef’s natural essence, without overwhelming it.”
She challenged preconceptions: “While global K-food spotlights spice, Korea shares Europe’s reverence for the ingredient itself—unexaggerated authenticity.” The marbled Hanwoo, with its tender richness, begged for thoughtful pairings. The soy-sesame foundation aligns with Europe’s fermented traditions, like aged cheeses or balsamic vinegars. It shatters the “spicy-only” stereotype, unveiling a palate of clarity, balance, and restraint. Hanwoo’s marbling pairs exquisitely with French wines’ acidity and tannins, inviting experimental harmonies.
Ms. Kim viewed the festival through a philosophical lens. “Montmartre is a celebration of pairing food and wine, and Suwun Japbang is essentially a guide for such unions,” she noted. “After three years here, I know the best corners for Burgundy reds or Loire whites to complement our dishes.”
Smiling, she added, “This year, our engagements go deeper—it’s no longer just tasting, but conversing through flavors.” This creates a framework of practice through demonstrations, record via textual insights, and education in guided pairings. There’s stylistic synergy where restrained soy dishes meet high-acid wines for elegant dialogue. Three years’ evolution has refined curation, turning casual booths into scholarly exchanges.
Over the interview, Ms. Kim reflected on her journey. “In year one, it was about visibility; now, it’s understanding,” she said. Key shifts include deeper audience insight—”Korean and European cuisines seem worlds apart, but sensory bridges exist—like shared respect for seasonality.” There’s a new exhibition grammar, moving from displays to pedagogy with explanations rooted in history, and a clarified message focusing on essence over spectacle, emphasizing restraint.
Visible outcomes include media narratives evolving from “exotic” to explorations of heritage and philosophy; tourism ties linking Andong visits with household immersions, Suwun Japbang tales, and wine classes; and networks forming with European cookery schools, wine academies, and museums for ongoing collaborations.
Translating Andong’s cuisine for Europeans, Ms. Kim framed it as terroir—a philosophy of place, time, and community. “Suwun Japbang embodies ethics of fermentation, moderation, and balance,” she elaborated. “Andong’s waters, grains, and climates craft unique tastes; five centuries of records layer culinary depth; and the daughter-in-law lineage preserves communal warmth.”
Through this lens, Korea’s noble table becomes relatable: a place-based gastronomy echoing France’s own vineyards.
The conversation sparked ideas for future bridges: “Suwun Japbang × Wine” tastings with curated events pairing low-salt soy menus with tannic wines, annotated by text excerpts; residencies and study tours exchanging between French sommelier schools and Andong academies, with internships for Korean chefs in European wineries; exhibitions and museums showcasing the “buried book” tale and ancestral settings, blending design and history; scholarly and publishing projects like bilingual editions and food anthropology journals; and tourism modules such as “An Andong Table Experience”—Confucian home stays, curated dinners with local pairings, and ritual music.
In Montmartre’s lively streets, Ms. Kim’s pavilion whispered rather than shouted, prioritizing texture over triumph. “Korean and European foods may appear different, yet they are not as distant as one might think,” she concluded, her words lingering like a fine vintage.
Here, Suwun Japbang transcends pages to become a shared table, inviting journeys of mutual discovery. As Montmartre’s wines age gracefully, so might Andong’s legacy deepen in European hearts—fostered at a patient, harmonious tempo.
