Chef Jeff Kang on Fermentation and the Global Sourdough Obsession

enRoute You were born in Seoul to a North Korean mother and a South Korean father. What is your family’s food culture?

Jeff Kang Food was always big in my family. My grandmother was a great cook. She grew up in North Korea with very limited access to meat and fish, so vegetables were really important, and when she did have access to animal protein, she used every bit, from nose to tail. That had a big influence on me. She did a lot of pickling and made her own miso, soy sauce and vinegar. That was my first contact with fermentation. My mom was vegan and learned from my grandmother how to make everything from scratch. She would go mushroom picking and preserve fiddleheads and dandelions that she brought back so that we would have vegetables and greens in the winter. She made everything herself, from kimchi to sauces and noodles. My dad, who was of South Korean descent, owned a company that made food processing machines – ice cream, chips and Korean–style nori sheets – and we actually moved to Canada for his job. But wherever we lived, we only ate what was locally sourced, a lot of which we fermented, so I didn’t grow up on grocery foods.

ER In July, you permanently closed your Queen Street West restaurant Canis as a result of the pandemic. What are some innovative menu items that garnered great reviews and made Canis a Toronto darling?

JK I’m not one to say I led the fermentation surge in Canada, but rather that I led the conversation about fermentation. From the start, fermentation has been at the heart of Canis, just like it has been at the heart of my home cooking. As a small restaurant with tasting menus only, we wanted to create unexpected flavours, and at the same time we couldn’t afford to waste anything. Preserving was the natural way of creating dishes that highlighted my personality as a chef and prevented food loss. All the fish entrails, meat trimmings and egg whites were turned into garums [fermented fish sauce used as a condiment in Ancient Rome that is nowadays made using a variety of ingredients]. Whether we made a duck or wild game garum, we used it to add flavour to our sauces. For example, the glaze for our Peking–style duck was made using duck garum. It really brought out the saltiness, sweetness and depth of the meat flavour. We made our own ricotta cheese and caramelized the leftover whey to make a sauce or simply to extend its shelf life. One item that was always on the menu was the duck liver parfait tart, glazed with a fermented berry jelly. I think it changed people’s attitude towards fermentation – they expected something sweet, but fermentation brought out the savoury instead.

ER A good kimchi transports you back to the Seoul of your childhood — what are some other memories you associate with fermented foods?

JK Anytime I smell the “funk” of fermented foods, it takes me back to an area in Osaka where people were pickling eggplants and cucumbers out on the streets with the help of their neighbours. As a kid, we had gone to Japan on one of my dad’s business trips and I remember hating the smell – a “first time you eat blue cheese” sort of thing – but it grew on me, and I absolutely love it now. Paris is another place I get carried to when the smell of charcuterie wafts through the air. Every time my wife and I go, we buy fine meats at a gourmet grocery store, pick a good wine bottle at a local caviste and have a picnic in one of the city’s idyllic parks.