Hidden gem

Britain is a country that loves its imports: its BMWs, its Egyptian cotton, its Russian vodka and its hardworking Polish builders. And with our history of imperialism and exploration, our palates have developed a taste for a smorgasbord of flavours. We delight in the Kama Sutra pleasures of Indian food in Brick Lane, Birmingham or even in the wilds of Scotland in places such as Lossiemouth. We have Cantonese food; Szechuan food; Vietnamese food; Japanese noodle bars; Thai restaurants; Greek restaurants and now Polish restaurants as well.

Over the past 15 years or so, a British food revolution has also taken place, with the consequence that we are forever in the quest for the Holy Grail of new flavours or seasonings or food experiences. So how can it be that, amid all this new-found variety, we have overlooked one of the best, most lively food experiences that has been right under our noses for some time: Korean?

Korean food hasn’t yet entered mainstream dining. I’ve yet to see a review of a Korean restaurant, even of Kaya (the name of the ancient kingdom of Korea), the haute-cuisine destination of Korean food in Mayfair’s Albemarle Street. Korean food is still on the periphery of our culinary radar, though Hawksmoor has dared to add the highly fragrant, hotly-spiced fermented cabbage dish kimchi to one of its burgers as a topping. Really. Is that it?

Perhaps it is. Korean food must be understood in the context of the country’s history: only 60 years ago, the country was poor and rural. As a result, their food is less meat-based than either Chinese or Japanese food and, because they needed to preserve what foods they had, including vegetables and fish, they tended to keep the food not by bottling it but by fermenting it in glazed and lidded clay pots kept cool by placing them underground up to the necks of the vessels.