Hi, I’m Hana — Korean-born, London-seasoned, and currently cooking out of my kitchen in Washington.
Have you ever watched a K-drama and found yourself craving the bubbling kimchi jjigae on screen — only to give up because the recipe called for ingredients you couldn’t find? Or stood in front of a wall of gochujang tubs at the Korean market, wondering why there are seven kinds and which one is “the right one”? That gap — between “I want to taste Korea” and “I can actually cook this” — is exactly why K-Food Table exists.
My Story
I was born and raised in Seoul, where the smell of doenjang-guk (soybean paste soup) simmering on the stove meant I was home. Some of my earliest memories are of kimjang day every November — me in oversized rubber gloves, rubbing chili paste into napa cabbage next to my grandmother, sneaking bites of fresh kimchi with warm rice when she wasn’t looking.
Then life took me abroad: first to the U.S., then to London, where I spent several years. I loved it — but I missed Korean food in my bones. So I learned to recreate my grandmother’s cooking in a tiny London flat, making pilgrimages to New Malden (Europe’s largest Koreatown — if you know, you know) whenever the cravings got serious. My proudest achievement from those years? Perfecting stovetop LA galbi in that little flat — and only setting off the smoke alarm, well… more times than I’ll ever admit.
Somewhere along the way, I married an American who used to crack open every window in the house when I brought out the kimchi. Reader, he now asks for it at breakfast.
These days, I live in Washington with my husband, our little boy (who calls gimbap “Korean sushi”), and our dog Dubu — named after tofu, because he is soft, white, and permanently stationed under the kitchen table waiting for things to fall. Feeding a family across two food cultures has turned me into the resident Korean food translator: my friends text me questions like “Is gochujang supposed to be this spicy?” and “Can I use regular cabbage for kimchi?” (Yes, and… it depends.)
This blog is my answer to all those questions — the ones my family asks, and the ones you might be Googling at 11 p.m.
What You’ll Find Here
- Korean Recipes — authentic dishes from my family kitchen, tested and adapted so they actually work in yours
- Ingredients & Substitutions — what each ingredient does, and what to use when you can’t find the real thing
- Where to Buy — exactly where to get Korean ingredients, online and in stores
- Kitchen Tools — the tools genuinely worth your money (and the ones you can safely skip)
- Korean Food Culture — the stories, traditions, and table etiquette behind the food
Why Trust My Kitchen?
- Korean food isn’t a hobby for me — it’s what I grew up eating, and what I cook for my family nearly every day
- Years of cooking abroad taught me which substitutions actually work — and I’ll always tell you honestly when there is no substitute
- Every recipe here is cooked, tested, and photographed in my own kitchen: no studio, no food stylist, just my trusty ttukbaegi (Korean earthenware pot) that has somehow survived three international moves
- I only recommend stores, ingredients, and tools I’ve bought and used myself
A Few Things About Me
🍚 My ultimate comfort food: a bowl of kongnamul-guk (soybean sprout soup) — Koreans consider it the cure for everything, including bad days and hangovers
✂️ The tool my kitchen can’t live without: my Korean kitchen scissors. Yes, scissors. Once you’ve cut meat, scallions, and kimchi with them, there’s no going back
🌶️ Confession: I still can’t finish a pack of buldak ramen, and I’m not even sorry
🐶 Dubu’s favorite Korean dish: anything that accidentally hits the floor
Where to Start
New here? These three posts are the perfect first steps:
- Korean Pantry Essentials: 10 Ingredients You’ll Use Again and Again
- Easy Kimchi Jjigae (Kimchi Stew) for Beginners
- Where to Buy Korean Ingredients Online (and How to Read the Labels)
And if you’d like my free Korean Pantry Starter Checklist, join the newsletter below — one email a week, no spam, just good food.
Happy cooking!
— Hana
