My husband served during the Korean War. One day while handling a payroll at the Bank of Seoul he went to the restroom. It was a round room with seats all around the wall, like the Roman one shown here but round. There were several men seated. Then a woman walked in and the men nodded their heads politely. She also sat down, as did my husband. I wonder if they knew any Romans? He also learned to eat Kimchi. Every country home had a barrel of the stuff outside the house, and he figured if captured, he could escape and eat Kimchi until he rejoined our troops.
When I landed in Korea, and was housed temporarily not far from Kimpo airport, waiting our transportation to our assignments, I smelled the smell of Kimchi in the air; it was so new to my senses that merely the hint of it flowing in the air was enough for me to say: “what is that smell”.
I became a Kimchi fan while I was there.
Traditionally a mixture that becomes Kimchi is prepared in the fall or winter, buried in ceramic pots in the ground, where it ferments. It is after the fermentation has occurred that Kimchi has the familiar Kimchi taste.
In truth though, spicy hot Kimchi is no earlier than the 17th century. Before that many of the “hotter” spices were not well known or much available in Korea. I don’t think modern Koreans care so much about that, as it is the spicier versions so many Koreans like today.