Kimchi crisis comes to a head

In the foothills of South Korea’s rugged Taebaek range, Roh Sung-sang surveys the damage to his crop. More than half the cabbages in his 20ha patch sit wilted and deformed, having succumbed to extreme heat and rainfall over summer.

‘‘This crop loss we see is not a one-year blip,’’ said Roh, who has been growing cabbages in the highlands of Gangwon province for two decades. ‘‘I thought the cabbages would be somehow protected by high elevations and the surrounding mountains.’’

With its typically cool climate, this alpine region of South Korea is the summertime production hub for Chinese cabbage – a key ingredient in kimchi, the piquant fermented pickle dish that is a Korean staple.

But this year, nearly half a million cabbages lie abandoned in Roh’s fields. Overall, Taebaek’s harvest is two-thirds of what it would be in a typical year, according to local authorities’ estimates.

The result is a kimchi crisis felt by connoisseurs across South Korea, whose appetite for the dish is legendary.

South Koreans eat kimchi seven times a week on average, according to a 2020 survey by the Korea Rural Economic Institute.

The consumer price of Chinese cabbage has soared this month to almost double the annual average of about US$4.17 (NZ$7.25), according to the state-run Korea Agro-Fisheries Trade Corp.

‘‘I had no choice but to pay through the nose for cabbages,’’ said Sung Ok-Koung, a homemaker in Seoul, for whom making kimchi is an important family activity.

The cabbage shortfall is putting a squeeze on not only homemade but also commercially produced kimchi.

Rising costs have pushed Daesang, South Korea’s top kimchi producer, to lift prices by 10% from next month. Cabbage kimchi, the most popular type, has been out of stock at the company’s online shop for a month (the dish can also be made from radish, cucumber, green onion and other vegetables).

South Korea’s Ministry of Agriculture has attributed the situation to ‘‘adverse weather’’ in the Gangwon highlands, and has promised to take ‘‘every possible measure,’’ including imports, to stabilise the price.

Imports, mostly from China, are a touchy subject. Kimchi was the subject of a recent cultural spat over its provenance that escalated into a soft-power battle between the Asian neighbours. Chinese imports account for 40% of the commercially produced kimchi consumed in South Korea.

‘‘It strikes home for Koreans because kimchi is so central to the nation’s cultural heritage’’ and constituted a ‘‘way of life’’ for Koreans, said Koo Jeong-woo, a sociology professor at Sungkyunkwan University in Seoul.

But of even broader concern is the changing climate.

Cabbages require temperate conditions for optimum growth. In addition to contending with warmer weather, growers face increasingly frequent extreme events, including heavy rain and typhoons.

This summer’s heatwave was followed by torrential rain in Gangwon province and elsewhere. Cabbages that survived the initial onslaught often fell victim to diseases.

Jeon Sang-min, a distribution manager at Taebaek’s agricultural co-op, said cabbage production in the region had been declining over the past decade. With an eye to climate change, he has been looking into alternative fruits and vegetables. Some growers in Taebaek are already abandoning cabbages in favour of apples.

Some consumers, at least for now, are willing to stomach higher prices. Sung said she still opted for locally produced cabbage for her homemade kimchi, because of ‘‘better taste and quality’’ compared with imports.

Roh will continue growing cabbages ‘‘as long as the weather and my health allow me to do so’’. He takes pride in Gangwon highland cabbage. ‘‘Their crisp and mildly sweet leaves make the best kimchi,’’ he said.