Have you ever realized that the process of making something taught you more than the product itself? If you're someone in the middle of a transformation that's taking longer than expected—whether it's healing from loss, rebuilding after crisis, or waiting for breakthrough—this story will show you why the slow, messy middle matters most.
In May 2017, I went back to Missouri and spent nine hours learning to make kimchi with my mom. I thought I was learning a recipe. I learned a philosophy for life instead.
"All great changes are preceded by chaos." - Deepak Chopra
The Taste of Home I Couldn't Find
I grew up eating kimchi at every meal—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. My parents immigrated from South Korea to Missouri in 1984, and they brought their food culture with them. My dad owned a Chinese restaurant, but at home and in dishes my mom made just for us, everything was Korean.
Kimchi wasn't special to me as a kid. It was normal. It was always on the table, always in the refrigerator at home and at the restaurant. I ate it the way other kids ate ketchup—without thinking about it, without appreciating it.
Then in November 2016, my wife and I moved to Texas. She wanted to be closer to her family in Austin, and my best friend Eddie had moved to Dallas from California. It felt like the right time for a fresh start.
But within weeks, I realized something was missing. I went to HMart, the big Korean grocery store, expecting to find kimchi that tasted like home. I bought a plastic container, took it home, and opened it.
One bite told me everything: this wasn't right. The plastic container had leached into the flavor. It was too salty, soggy, with a chemical taste from preservatives meant to extend shelf life. It tasted like a factory, not like family.
I tried other brands. Same problem. Store-bought kimchi could never replace what I grew up with.
So in May 2017, over Memorial Day weekend, I drove back to Missouri. I had one mission: learn to make my mom's kimchi.
The Nine-Hour Masterclass
My mom and I started at 9 AM. We went to the Korean market first, buying fresh Napa cabbage, green onions, garlic, ginger, Korean chili flakes (gochugaru), and Korean sea salt.
Then we came to my parent's restaurant and began the process.
Cut the cabbage. Wash it three times. Salt it until it wilts. Wait. Wash it three times again. My mom explained that the triple wash was a food safety standard—the same reason store produce says "triple washed." When you're feeding people, you do it right.
While the cabbage wilted, we made the spice paste. Garlic, ginger, chili flakes, sea salt, sugar, and scallions—all mixed by hand. My mom's technique was simple: no cooking, just raw ingredients mixed and massaged into the cabbage.
"Other people cook rice flour into the paste," she said. "I don't. This way is cleaner, simpler, more traditional."
What struck me most was that my mom didn't just tell me what to do—she made me do it with her. I wasn't watching a demonstration. I was experiencing the full process: the cutting, the washing, the waiting, the mixing, the packing into glass jars.
We finished around 6 PM. Nine hours to make kimchi.
On the drive back to Texas with jars carefully packed in the back seat, I realized something: I hadn't just learned a recipe. I had learned a philosophy.
"Be still, and know that I am God." - Psalm 46:10
The Kimchi Mindset: Five Lessons About Transformation
Lesson 1: Patience in the Process
Kimchi doesn't become kimchi overnight. You chop, wash, season, and pack it into jars. Then you wait. At first, it doesn't taste like much—just spicy, salty cabbage. But with time, fermentation transforms those raw ingredients into something new, powerful, flavorful, and full of life.
Life works the same way. Just because you don't see results right away doesn't mean nothing is happening. Like kimchi fermenting in the jar, growth is often invisible before it becomes obvious.
Lesson 2: Pressure Creates Flavor
Inside a kimchi jar, the environment is intense—sealed tight, bubbling, sometimes messy. But that very pressure is what creates depth of flavor.
We grow under pressure too. Challenges and hardships feel uncomfortable, just like fermentation looks and smells a little wild. But often, it's those exact seasons of pressure that bring out the best in us.
Lesson 3: Transformation from the Inside Out
When cabbage becomes kimchi, it's not just a coating of spice—it's a full transformation. The inside of each leaf changes. Beneficial bacteria grow, nutrients increase, flavors deepen.
Real change happens the same way. It's not about looking different on the outside. It's about being renewed from the inside out—a shift in who you are, not just what you do.
Lesson 4: Community and Sharing
Traditionally, kimchi making (kimjang) is done in community. Families and neighbors gather, work together, and share the reward. Everyone contributes, everyone benefits.
Life isn't meant to be lived alone. Your struggles and growth aren't just for you—they're meant to be shared.
Lesson 5: Resilience and Renewal
Cabbage on its own is humble, even ordinary. But through fermentation, it becomes something extraordinary—tangy, spicy, full of life.
That's resilience: taking what looks ordinary or broken and letting it be renewed into something strong. Your past doesn't define you—your process does.
From Lunch to Business to Mission
Back in Texas, I started bringing my homemade kimchi to work. I was working at the University of Texas at Dallas as an HVAC commercial technician, sharing a small office with two coworkers.
One was Vietnamese and understood Korean food. The other was Caucasian and had never seen, heard of, or tasted anything Korean. He looked at my lunch and asked, "What is that?"
"Kimchi. I made it at home."
He tried it. Absolutely loved it. Then he asked, "Can I buy some from you?"
Soon both coworkers were buying jars once or twice a month. Word spread to other people wanting to buy kimchi. As I was selling kimchi, I always had people asking the same question: "What do I do with kimchi?"
That question became my book "The Kimchi Connection Cookbook"—teaching people how to integrate kimchi into different dishes and cultures. But it's more than recipes. The book explores gut health and the gut-brain connection, because I don't just want people to eat kimchi—I want them to understand how it helps them be healthier.
Think of your gut and brain as a married couple, connected and communicating. What you eat changes the tone of their conversation. Kimchi—fermented, fiber-rich, full of beneficial bacteria—supports that conversation, helping with mood, clarity, immunity, and resilience.
The Transformation I Didn't See Coming
When my wife and I went through years of infertility, surgeries, financial struggles, cancer diagnosis, and job loss, life felt raw—like plain cabbage. There were nights I wondered if the pain would ever lead to anything good.
But just like kimchi, transformation takes time. What I couldn't see was that something was happening inside us. The pressure, the waiting, the tears were slowly shaping us into stronger, more resilient people.
That nine-hour day with my mom taught me: growth takes time, pressure can create flavor, and with patience and perseverance, even the hardest seasons can be transformed into something full of life.
Your Fermentation Season
Right now, you might be in the middle of your own fermentation—a season that feels messy, uncomfortable, like nothing is changing despite all your effort.
Here's what I want you to know: You're not stuck. You're fermenting. And fermentation is transformation happening at a pace you can't control or rush.
The pressure you're feeling? It's creating depth. The waiting? It's allowing beneficial change to happen from the inside out. The discomfort? It's part of the process that will make you extraordinary.
Don't judge your transformation by how it looks right now. Judge it by trusting the process and staying patient with the timeline.
When you're ready, here's how I can help you:
Purchase my book "The Kimchi Connection Cookbook"—learn how to integrate kimchi into every dish while discovering the gut-brain connection and why fermented foods matter for your overall health and resilience.
And if you're in the middle of personal transformation and need strategies for the messy middle, check out "Mindset Metamorphosis"—about trusting the process when growth feels invisible.
Remember: Feed your mind. Fuel your actions. Find your fire.
DK Kang
Author | Wellness Advocate | Plant-Based Athlete | LMT
dk@dkkang.com
www.dkkang.com
