Kimchi Mamas

Little Prince Kids Restaurant Review

Five words for you: Meet me at Little Prince!

Little Prince is a Korean-born chain of kid-centered cafes, and it is basically the healthier, cleaner, saner alternative to Chuck E. Cheese's.  Instead of cacophony, consumerism, and chaos, kids can play in a variety of settings: an indoor jungle gym and ball pit for the more active tykes, a dress-up and pretend play area, and a library.  All areas are supervised by attentive staff who speak both Korean and English, and you can also keep an eye on your little ones from your table thanks to the video camera feeds displayed in the dining area.  Littler kids can stay close to their parents by playing in the middle of the dining area in a quieter, more padded zone.

The menu is eclectic, highlighting Korean-style cafe food.  There is pizza, pasta, and house-made chicken nuggets for the kids, and more sophisticated fare for the parents such as hamburger steak, galbi, ddukbokki, and "grown-up" pastas.  My personal favorite is their kimchi fried rice with cheese, washed down by a couple glasses of their iced coffee.

I am not exaggerating when I say that Little Prince has greatly expanded my social life.  It's the perfect spot to meet up with old or new friends who are in town. 

Do your friends have other kids that aren't quite the same age level as your own?  Send them all on their merry way to play with the unnis/nunas/oppas/hyungs at their own pace.  Chances are, they will start playing with each other as well.  

Is your friend childless, but they would like to meet your kids and hang out with you?  Again, perfect venue: your kids can be around to say hello and be hugged and adored, but then they can zoom off without either party being antsy or nervous.  Then you and your friend can catch up in peace.

They also offer packages for birthday parties, and I think it would be a perfect venue for a dol, or any year up to about age 6.  It's especially handy if you expect a mixed crowd of kids, older and younger siblings, and adults without children.

Food is pretty pricey, but the servings are HUGE.  In addition, you pay a per-hour fee per child.  So, if you are in the southern CA area, you should definitely try it out.  Awesomely enough, Living Social is offering a deal with Little Prince right now (and for the next 6 days).  You get $25 credit for $12, which amounts to 52% off!

So, am I going to see you there?  We can do plan a formal Kimchi Mamas meet-up or just keep it small.  Let's discuss.

Little Prince Kids Restaurant
5300 Beach Blvd. #118
Buena Park, CA 90621 
714-690-1432 

Little Prince website
Facebook page 
Link to Living Social deal

--Julie
(No disclaimer needed; I'm promoting them purely because I've been there a half-dozen times and I love them.)

Why There Needs to be a Different Standard of Depression for Koreans

When I feel depressed, it's hard to tell the cause: is it stress in my life, my mood disorder, or merely because I am Korean?

Talk to any Korean person of my parents' generation about depression, and most likely they will equate it with laziness ("When we don't want to get out of bed or work hard, we don't call it depressed"),  privilege ("They don't have to worry about anything else"), or  insanity ("Are you going to tear up your clothes and put flowers in your hair?").  They just don't view it as a real chronic illness.

But yet, it obviously exists, even for Korean people.  Domestic violence, alcohol and drug abuse, and suicide are major societal problems, and those often are side effects of mood disorders.

I'm starting to wonder if the problem lies in the usual criteria for diagnosis.  If you look at the normal list of symptoms for depression and you knew Korean people at all, it seems like we are ALL depressed!

According to the Mayo Clinic, depression symptoms include:

• Feelings of sadness or unhappiness
• Irritability or frustration, even over small matters
• Frequent thoughts of death, dying or suicide
• Crying spells for no apparent reason

In Korea, these are all considered normal.  We even have a word for it: han.  An excellent article in the LA Times on han can be found here.  We all carry around a sadness and trauma that is so ingrained it might as well be part of our genome.  Suffering and death are recurring themes in our art, our folklore, our history.  Hell, it's even the main philosophy of kimchi: preserve everything you can for the day -- and that day definitely will come -- when there is nothing.  It is the reason why when you piss off your mom, she says things like "Do you want me to die now?  Will that make you happy?"  Sigh.

• Reduced sex drive
• Feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures or blaming yourself when things aren't going right
• Changes in appetite — depression often causes decreased appetite and weight loss, but in some people it causes increased cravings for food and weight gain
• Agitation or restlessness — for example, pacing, hand-wringing or an inability to sit still
• Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches
• Loss of interest or pleasure in normal activities
• Insomnia or excessive sleeping

These things are also very common...but these I put the blame squarely on nurture, not nature.  I am still convinced that my parents had sex only two times in their lives: that is why my sister and I exist.  And Korean parents are the kings of the extreme guilt complex, unconstructive criticism, harsh-ass punishments, mysterious aches and pains, the neverending war against dust and hair on the floor, and equating food with love...which take care of the rest.  Again, a Korean would look at that list and think, "Yeah, so what?"

• Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements
• Indecisiveness, distractibility and decreased concentration
• Fatigue, tiredness and loss of energy — even small tasks may seem to require a lot of effort
• Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things

These might be real bellweathers for us, but then again if I told my Korean doctor that I felt these symptoms, he would probably give me some nasty Chinese herbal potion to flush out my liver and reprimand me for being fat (in all seriousness, my childhood doctor's nickname for me was "Cow" and would constantly nag me to take diet pills.  He was a friend of my dad's.).  Maybe some Korean-specific research needs to be done, so we can get an idea of what depression looks like for us, or maybe we are indeed all afflicted with it.

--Julie

Book Review: "This Burns My Heart" by Samuel Park

How could the world fit so many lives, so many iterations?  It couldn't be that big, it couldn't fit so much.  We're only given one life, and it's the one we live, she had thought; how painful now, to realize that wasn't true, that you would have different lives, depending on how brave you were, and how ready.

This little nugget was excerpted from Samuel Park's This Burns My Heart. Three of us got to read the novel, we received advanced copies for free, and here is what we thought:

Mary:

This Burns My Heart by Samuel Park tells the story of Soo-Ja Choi's life in South Korea in the 1960's. I've never read a book quite like it. Set in Korea during a period that I can imagine (I was born in the 70's) and written in English from the perspective of a woman, I should have been able to relate to this book a whole lot. And while I could related to Soo-Ja in some ways, I also found myself being somewhat distracted by what I thought were unrealistic dialogues between her and the other characters of the book such as her Father-in-law, her husband, and her parents. I found Soo-Ja to be a somewhat likable character. Her husband, Min, seemed unreal. Did men seriously fool women into marrying them? Despite these distractions, I found myself drawn to the book and into the story of Soo-ja's life. I wanted things to work out for her and for her to finally be happy. I also wanted to shake her and tell her to just speak the truth about her feelings. Why is it that Koreans say the opposite of what they want?

On a side note, I loved the art cover and found myself staring at that shadowy figure.

Angie:

Was the yearn and understanding of a "what if" life there for me as a reader? Of course it was.  "The saddest words of tongue or pen are what could have been . . . " But in what I think was Park's intent to make Soo-Ja's plan clever - I found only manipulation and cunning - and the consequences for those choices. 

Throughout the narrative, I wanted to like Soo-ja.  I wanted to feel bad about the decisions she made and the perceived tragedy of her life . . . but I couldn't. We all make decisions in life - some people regret, others move on, others are forever frozen in place. 

Here was a woman who in youth was beautiful, educated, well taken care of and practically revered/loved by her family and yet none of it was enough.  Instead she plays chess with the very people who care for and about her - treating them as her pieces.  Does she make up some of her trangressions in judgement with her best friend? Yes, but much later in life.  

Soo-Ja's relationship with her daughter, Hannah, could have been better developed.  I did not get from the text a sense of a special bond or particularly deep relationship. (Semi spoiler alert!) I was also a little perplexed about how at the end of the novel Hannah could so freely forgive her mother and her relationship - it felt like a loose thread in a blanket that failed to warm my heart. 

Julie:

I for one fell in love with Soo-ja.  Soo-ja really reminds me of my own mother...both women grew up in boy-less households in the post-war south.  Both were high-maintenance, coy, intelligent young girls, with their little world their oyster.  However, a series of decisions (sometimes their own, usually not) led them into an adulthood that was quite the opposite: the vivacious girls had to quickly morph into respectable, honorable wives.  Their lives once seemingly so open, now uni-dimensional, full of stubborn self-denial, servitude to their husband's families, and buried regrets.  My mom found some amount of relief by emigrating to the US, but Soo-ja's invisible shackles prove to be much stronger.

To me, this novel is an allegory of the state of womanhood in Korea.  Females can be quite treasured in their youth and encouraged to dream (if those dreams do not overshadow their brothers' dreams), but once they grow up, those dreams are almost always an impossibility.  The institutions of marriage and motherhood have very well-defined rules (backed by history and by the law) that must be followed in order to maintain honor, and those rules do not leave time for individual pursuits or personalities.  Even today, employment, inheritance, and divorce laws in Korea are seemingly equitable, but they are not fully enforced.  This kind of repression is most clearly reflected in the fact that Soo-ja's most original, most relatable thoughts are merely inner dialog and never spoken aloud.  That must be the most frustrating part about that life, because it certainly was the most frustrating part reading about it.  Where does empowerment begin: from the woman who finally says what she really means, or from the society that allows her to do so?  

I don't want to give away the ending, but I hope that the Soo-jas of today can find themselves a similar one.  I highly recommend this book to people who would like to see the Korea our parents grew up in come alive. 

From the publisher: 

Set in South Korea in the 1960s, THIS BURNS MY HEART (Simon & Schuster; July 12, 2011; $25.00) centers on Soo-Ja Choi, an ambitious young woman who finds herself trapped in an unhappy marriage. Faced with adversity and oppression, she struggles to protect her daughter and to fulfill her own dreams—all against the backdrop of a postwar society caught between tradition and modernity.  Samuel Park based the character Soo-Ja Choi on his mother, who grew up in South Korea. Park says, “The book is based on my mother’s life, but it is ultimately a work of fiction. I was inspired by all the stories my mother told me about her life.” 

Learn more about THIS BURNS MY HEART at www.samuelpark.com.

You can buy the novel on Amazon.com.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Please keep South Korea in your thoughts as residents face astonishing amounts of torrential downpour. The resulting floods and mudslides have already killed 38 people in Seoul and the central regions, and the death toll is climbing.  There seems to be a lot of infrastructure damage, so we will keep you posted with ways we can help once things settle down and the full amount of damage is assessed.

Kimchi Mama jooliyah, we hope you and your loved ones are staying dry and staying safe!  Please check in when you can.

Article from the Korea Herald, English edition

Blog post from Koream Magazine

Kimchi Mama Honor Roll: Sonya Thomas

This past Fourth of July Weekend, the annual Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest held a womens division for the first time.  The inaugural champion was Sonya Thomas, aka "The Black Widow," a 43-year-old Korean American, who won by eating 40 hot dogs in 10 minutes.

This is the first I had heard of The Black Widow, and I am a bit ashamed to admit that, because this was by far not her first competitive eating victory. In fact, since her debut in 2003, she has set and broken many world records, defeated men who are household names like Takeru Kobayashi and Joey Chestnut, and is currently ranked the #6 competitive eater in the world.  It is also worthy to note that Ms. Thomas achieves all this despite weighing in at 98 pounds.

After reading a few news articles, I was smitten.  I knew we Korean gals can pack it in like no one's business, but other than brief mentions on where she grew up in Korea, there was no mention of how being Korean helped or hindered her at all.  Here's the backstory, in her own words, to winning 29 competitive eating world titles.

Kimchi Mamas: Are your parents back in Korea aware of your competitive eating success, and if so, how do they feel about it?

Sonya Thomas: I think lots of Koreans feel negatively towards competitive eating, they think of it as a bit foolish: why do this instead of using your brain?  They also worry about my health, if my stomach will explode or something.  My parents were the same way when they first heard about it.  In fact, I didn't actually eat that much as a child, so they were totally surprised.  They were worried, but after they saw me on the news, they were happy for me.  Now, they're not exactly proud, but they know their daughter did something special.

KM: That sounds like the best you can ask for with any Korean parent.  Was there anything from your childhood that helps you at all today? 

ST: From childhood to now, I have always been competitive, I always want to be the best, to show people I'm special.  I'm not really outgoing, kind of shy, but anything active, I'm determined to show people I "have it."

KM: Oh wow.  Where does that drive come from?

ST: I was born in 1967, and it was a hard time for Korea, and my family was very poor.  My parents, 2 brothers, my sister, and I lived in a 1 room house.  Not a lot of people could afford to eat white rice, so they would mix their rice with barley.  But our family's rice was all barley!  The American government also gave us flour...so we had noodles everyday.  

I had to be brave, more brave then than now.  My first day of elementary school, I walked there by myself, and registered myself.  After that, I always tried to help my parents earn money.  I remember one time, I was 8 or 9, and we went to the ocean to catch clams.  I kept pushing myself to work faster and faster, and I dug up more than my mom!  About 40 pounds of clams!  Afterwards, as we opened the shells, I was the fastest.  I was the third child, but I was the boss!  [Laughs]

KM: You sound like you'd be the perfect athlete.

ST: During school, I competed a lot in sports, but I wasn't that good.  I wasn't a fast runner, I was too short and not a good enough shooter for basketball, and my reflexes were too slow for badminton.  But I still wanted to be the best at something.  Competitive eaters aren't only competitive in eating; we must be competitive in other things.  I was born like that, always wanting to do something special all the time, something different from other people.  Eating is one of my skills.  In others, if I'm not that great, i just give up and try something else. 

KM: That is so Korean!

ST: [Laughs] Yes, it's very Korean: very competitive, very "hurry hurry,' no patience.

KM: Sonya, thank you so much for taking the time out to talk to us.  Best of luck, and FIGHTING!!!

Sonya Thomas' next competition will be at the Buffalo Wing Festival in Buffalo, NY during Labor Day Weekend.

Sonya Thomas' homepage

Sonya Thomas on Wikipedia

Article from the Chosun Ilbo

"Kimchi Chronicles" on PBS

Marja Vongerichten, wife of three-star Michelin chef Jean-George Vongerichten, has created a series that seems tailor-made for us Kimchi Mamas.  Part travelogue, part documentary of self-discovery, part cooking show, "Kimchi Chronicles" takes the Vongerichtens around Korea, highlighting all the different dishes and culinary traditions, then interpreting them for the home kitchen with the help of...Hugh Jackman.  Here is a clip of Marja introducing the rest of the gang to what looks like 육개장 (yukgaejang).

An extra-long preview of the series can be seen on the New York Times site.  There, you will be bombarded with image after image of HD deliciousness...I can't watch it without drooling!

Marja will also be publishing a cookbook in August, and it's already up for preorders on Amazon.  Just think about it: authentic Korean recipes adapted for the western home kitchen, written in English, from a Michelin-star family...I can't wait to get my hands on it!  Here are some pics:

The show will make its nationwide debut in July, but it is currently running in New York (you lucky bums).  If you have seen it, please let us know what you thought below!  How's the cinematography?  Does it accurately portray Korea and Koreans?  How much does Marja's personal life story come into play?  Is it  food porn, and/or Hugh porn?  Enquiring minds would like to know!

--Julie

PS: Later this summer when they are released, we will be giving away DVD sets of the series as well as the cookbook, so stay tuned!!!

PPS: All throughout writing this, I kept misspelling "Hugh Jackman" as "Huge Jackman."  Freudian much?

PPPS: Man...I am HUNGRY.

Korea's Got Talent: Sung-Bong Choi

I have a hard heart when it comes to reality television, but even I couldn't stop the tears from flowing when I watched this:

Orphaned at the age of three and left to fend for himself starting from the age of FIVE, Sung-Bong Choi sold gum and Bacchus drinks on the street to survive.  He did not attend school until high school, and during his many nights wandering alone through the city, he listened in on vocal lessons to learn how to sing.

I hesitate to call him Korea's Susan Boyle, not because of any lack of talent, but because there is too much tragedy staining the transcendence.  In his pre-performance interview, Mr. Choi stated he entered this competition so he could be normal like other people, not famous or rich or notorious.  I find that very telling of his strong character, and since he had been let down in such a profound way by his government and fellow citizenry, I hope his appearance on this show will at least cement a sure and stable future for him, never lacking in comfort or company.

--Julie

Kimchi Mama Honor Roll: Jennifer Yuh Nelson

This Memorial Day weekend, I, along with many other parents, took my kids to see "Kung Fu Panda 2."  It feels strange to say this, but I really enjoyed seeing what all the characters were up to, as if I were revisiting old friends.  The movie delved deeper into Po the panda's personal history, and although the expected visual and verbal gags kept the audience giggling, the film also touches on some real-life themes in surprisingly thoughtful ways: adoption, "man" vs. machine, reconciling the past with the present and future, and redemption.

As the movie ended, I was very curious to see who intertwined the childish comedy with the deeper, more sober issues with such a light, masterful touch.  And when the director's name appeared on the screen, my mouth dropped.  First of all, she was a woman.  Second of all, she could very well be Korean!

Both turned out to be true: Jennifer Yuh Nelson is the first woman to singlehandedly direct a big-budget major animated feature.  BOOYAH!!!

From this LA times article, I learned that Jennifer Yuh Nelson actually grew up in Lakewood, CA, minutes away from where I grew up, and not surprisingly, received encouragement and guidance from her own Kimchi Mama from a very young age:

As a young girl, she would sit at the kitchen table for hours and watch her mother draw, copying her every stroke. Nelson traces the lineage of her career to those formative family experiences.

I also really enjoyed reading how she learned to come into her own as a naturally soft-spoken person in a position that usually is defined by auteur angst:

"I'm a very soft-spoken person. I don't throw furniture. I don't throw tantrums," Nelson said. "As a director, your job is to protect this movie with your life. Protect it against anything that would take it off its course and turn it beige. You have to be very, very ferocious and that was the hardest part for me because I'm not used to yelling."

And perhaps the most glowing testimonial comes from the CEO of Dreamworks himself, Jeffrey Katzenberg:

"What I always find so amazing about Jennifer is that inside this beautiful, soulful, soft-spoken, elegant lady is this macho, kung fu-loving action dynamo," Katzenberg said. "It's the opposite of what we're all used to dealing with in the world, the macho exterior and marshmallow center. There is very much a cult following that she has among our artists. They all want to work with her."

Well, I'm not an artist, but definitely count me in as a cult member. I'm so inspired!  Ms. Yuh Nelson, you rock!!!

Some Reactions to "Paper Tigers"

Wesley Yang's recent essay, "Paper Tigers," was published as the cover story of New York Magazine yesterday.  Have you read it yet?  I just did, and my head is reeling.  Much like Manny Pacquiao delivering blow after blow in the ring, Wesley Yang overloads the senses with vivid imagery, damning statistics, compelling interviews and profiles, and the occasional "fuck you" thrown in for good measure.  It is a long article, and I write short blog posts, so I'm only going to talk about a couple points here, but please bring up other points of discussion in the comments if you wish.

Okay, first assertion by the author I wish to talk about: Asian Americans, although we have fantastic college acceptance and graduation rates, meet a "Bamboo Ceiling" in the corporate world, evidenced by some anecdotes and the fact that only 1.8% of Fortune 500 companies have Asian CEOs.  Therefore, all the math drills and cram schools we force our kids to attend do not guarantee success in life after school.

First off, I agree that this Bamboo Ceiling phenomenon exists; I just don't think the statistics he has chosen to use even begin to prove his point.  If we go by the Fortune 500 measure, everyone in America besides these 500 CEOs hasn't succeeded, and I'm sure many of them beg to differ.  And I'm not talking from the "money doesn't guarantee happiness" point of view either...fine, you want to judge success by Benjamins, I can talk Benjamins.  

How about the thousands of Asian Americans who can say: "I may not have made $37 million dollars last year as CEO of PepsiCo (ironically CEOed by a woman of South Asian descent), but as a boring-ass middle-tier lawyer I did make $300,000."  I dunno about you, but that still seems like success to me.  And don't forget all the Asian Americans who knowingly opt out of the rat race either by becoming public servants, activists, artists and designers, church leaders (I wonder what the combined net worth of all the Korean churches in America is...I bet it's not too shabby), and self-employed.

It's tough to become a Fortune 500 CEO, or any kind of CEO that necessitates moving up the corporate ladder.  The reason why so many of them are tall white men is because their predecessors were tall white men.  The Old Boy Network has been around for what, 12 generations now, and that club is hard to get into, and it usually involves multiple generations of inherited money, power, and connections to people like governors and board members, so they're not bound to look kindly on some fresh-faced 2nd generation ethnic-American whose family's net worth cannot buy a congressional district.  I think it's amazing that even 9 Asian Americans managed to pierce through that veil.  Go them!

Which brings me to my second point: you think Asian Americans have it bad?  Talk to a Latino or African American.  Their "success" numbers drop off in high school, let alone college.  Or how about women of all races?  Injustice comes in many flavors.

My second cause of dismay was the uncomfortably long portion dedicated to learning pick up artist tricks in order to bone white girls.  After all this compelling talk about real Asian American issues, with no segue at all, suddenly I'm thrust into a world I don't think I'm meant to witness with a motley crew of alpha-males-in-training.  Their mission statement: "What is good in life?"  “To crush my enemies, see them driven before me, and to hear the lamentation of their women—in my bed!”

Work and life success equated with contrived sexual conquests?  Really?  Who invited me to the sausage fest?

However, this bombastic tone screeches to a halt near the end when he starts talking about Amy Chua's Tiger Mom book.  In fact, his review is the most nuanced and intriguing I've read on the topic, and it actually made me want to finally read the book.  Which brings me to my final reaction: despite the gut-wrenching, angry ways he describes his own and the world's shortcomings, Wesley Yang strikes me a pinnacle of his definition of success.  He has a semi-naked picture of himself published in his barely-edited cover story for New York Magazine, for goodness' sake!  And dare I say, despite his first few paragraphs, he accomplished this as an Asian American.

PS: While I was writing this, Ask a Korean's response came into my feed reader.  It's some good shit.

--Julie

Father School

Oh my goodness, you HAVE TO read this article in the New York Times about an emotional bootcamp of sorts for Korean men of our parents' generation.

I burst into tears when I read the last couple paragraphs.  I wish I could go back in time and make this compulsory for all first generation husbands and fathers...how many awkward or broken relationships would this have mended?

Have any of you ever heard of Father School before today?  I cannot believe this is the first I have heard of this, especially since it's based right next to my hometown!

And while I'm here, I wish you all a very happy Mother's Day!!!!  Whether it's your first or your fiftieth, it's always nice to see your kids try to show their appreciation (or at least get some brunch buffet).

Love,
Julie 

Update: Eagle-eyed reader Karen sent me this link to a more in-depth article from Koream Magazine written a couple years ago.