Inside the Kitchen: Seven Questions with Restaurant Ki's Ki Kim

In my teenage years, I went through a period where I felt very lost. During that time, my uncle once took me out for dak-galbi, a Korean dish he told me someone had bought for him when he was struggling himself, as a way to encourage him.

We were having a serious conversation, so I didn’t show much reaction, but inside I remember thinking, “Could anything ever taste better than this?” It was the first time food made me feel that way.

I grew up in Seoul, and dak-galbi is originally from Chuncheon, which is about a four-and-a-half-hour drive away. I loved it so much that when I got back to school, I convinced my friends to make the trip to Chuncheon just to eat it again.

I started my culinary career in Japanese cuisine. At one point, my dream was to become a sushi master, and I believed that reaching the pinnacle of sushi was my ultimate career goal.

However, my experience studying and working in Japan completely changed that perspective. While watching Japanese chefs cook Japanese food, I felt that they were telling their own stories through their cuisine. Standing beside them, I realized that I was trying to tell someone else’s story.

That led me to ask myself: What is my story? And how do I want to tell it?

The answer I arrived at was Korean food. For me, Korean cuisine became the language through which I could finally speak honestly about who I am.

It may sound naive, and it’s certainly a very big goal, perhaps even unrealistic at this stage.

Ultimately, I want to help make the world a better place through food. More specifically, I’m interested in creating projects that support both the mental and physical health of people living in the modern world.

A large part of that vision is focused on future generations, highlighting the importance of proper nutrition and showing how eating good and thoughtful food can be fundamental to maintaining long-term health.

There are so many. Asador Etxebarri, Alchemist, and Sazenka, just to name a few. I hope that one day I’ll be able to experience as many of them as possible.

There are many ideas that guide me, but there are three principles I remind myself of every day.

First, I cannot sell something to others if I don’t truly love it myself. Second, I want my food to have a positive impact on the people who eat it. And lastly, to move forward one step at a time and to become a slightly better version of myself than yesterday.

My ultimate comfort meal is doenjang jjigae made by my mom, grilled mackerel, and barley rice. It’s simple, honest food, but it carries a deep sense of warmth and grounding for me.