
At almost any Korean restaurant in Dallas, the small dishes arrive (banchan) before you’ve finished reading the menu. There might be bean sprouts in sesame oil, pickled radish, and a little dish of fish cake. In the middle of the table, without fail, there’s a dish of kimchi.
Most Dallas diners have eaten it by now. It shows up on burgers, in fried rice, and on tacos. But kimchi is bigger than the red, spicy cabbage most of us picture. In Korea, it’s a whole category of food, a centuries-old way of preserving vegetables, and a seasonal ritual that families still plan their calendars around.
At its simplest, kimchi is salted and seasoned vegetables left to ferment. Salt pulls water out of the vegetables and keeps the bad bacteria away. Then lactic acid bacteria go to work, the same process behind sauerkraut and real dill pickles. The result is sour, salty, crunchy and alive, and it keeps changing in the jar.
Koreans have been pickling vegetables for well over a thousand years, but the fiery red version is newer than most people think. Chili peppers came from the Americas and didn’t reach Korea until around the late 1500s. Red pepper flakes, called gochugaru, didn’t become standard in kimchi until the 1700s. Before then, kimchi was seasoned with things like garlic, ginger and salted seafood, and many types still are.


The one most people know is baechu kimchi, made with whole napa cabbage. The leaves are salted, rinsed, and then rubbed one at a time with a paste of gochugaru, garlic, ginger, fish sauce or salted shrimp, and scallions. It’s served everywhere and goes with nearly everything.
After that, the list gets long. Kkakdugi is Korean radish cut into cubes, crunchy and a little sweet, and it’s the standard partner for a bowl of beef soup. Pa kimchi is made from whole green onions and has a sharp bite. Oi sobagi is cucumber split and stuffed with seasoning, best eaten young and fresh in summer. Baek kimchi, or white kimchi, skips the chili entirely and is mild, clean and juicy. Dongchimi is a radish water kimchi served cold, and its brine is often used as the base for cold noodle soup.

Age matters as much as type. Fresh kimchi, just a day or two old, tastes bright and almost like a salad. After a few weeks, it turns sour and deeper. Kimchi that’s been fermenting for months, called mugeunji, is too strong for most people to eat on its own. That’s the kind Korean cooks want for kimchi jjigae, the bubbling stew, and for kimchi bokkeumbap, kimchi fried rice. Nothing goes to waste.
Then there’s kimjang. Every late fall, Korean families have traditionally gathered to make enough kimchi to last through winter, sometimes hundreds of heads of cabbage at a time, with neighbors and relatives working side by side. In 2013, UNESCO added kimjang to its list of the world’s Intangible Cultural Heritage. Many Korean households still keep a separate refrigerator just for kimchi.
Kimjang season is almost here, which makes now a good time to find out how deep Dallas’ kimchi bench really goes. Here’s where to start.

H Mart in Carrollton is the place to start if you want to learn kimchi by tasting it. The store opened in 2008 in a former Mervyn’s on Old Denton Road and still anchors Dallas-Fort Worth’s Koreatown. Head for the kimchi bar, where cabbage and radish are just the beginning. Pick up small amounts of three or four kinds and taste them side by side at home, and you’ll learn more in one evening than any menu could teach you. H Mart also has stores in Plano and on Royal Lane in Dallas. The Carrollton store is at 2625 Old Denton Road.
At Doma Seolleongtang, kimchi is as important as the food it comes with. The restaurant moved from its old Northwest Dallas strip mall to Carrollton and focuses on Korean beef soups, especially seolleongtang, a milky ox bone broth that’s barely seasoned before it reaches the table. Every bowl comes with three kinds of kimchi: cabbage, radish and green onion. Spoon a little of the radish kimchi juice into the broth, the way it’s done in Seoul, and you’ll see why a plain soup needs its kimchi. It’s at 2640 Old Denton Road, Suite 100, in Carrollton.

Koryo Korean BBQ is a longtime Royal Lane standby that still grills over real charcoal at the table. The banchan spread is a big part of the draw, rotating through the year with a sharp, well-balanced cabbage kimchi at its center. Order the Spicy Galbi Jjim, braised short ribs, or the Haemul Soondubu, a seafood soft tofu stew, and use the kimchi to cut the richness. Koryo is at 2560 Royal Lane, Suite 105, in Dallas, near the Royal Lane H Mart.

Jang Choong Dong Wang Jokbal specializes in pork, and its bossam is the best way to understand why Koreans pair kimchi with meat. Bossam is steamed pork belly, sliced and eaten in a wrap with kimchi, sauces and vegetables. It’s the dish families traditionally eat on kimjang day, when the cabbage is still fresh. The restaurant serves it with bossam moo, a sweet and spicy radish kimchi made for this dish. For one person, the Bo Ssam Jungshik set comes with soybean paste stew, rice and a full spread of sides. It’s at 2625 Old Denton Road, Suite 342, in Carrollton.
One last tip. When the kimchi dish at your table runs low, it’s fine to ask for more. At most Korean restaurants in town, the banchan refill at no charge, and the kitchen expects you to ask.










