In Korean, “rice” translates into “Ssal”, but once cooked, it takes on new name: “Bap”.
However, the word “Bap” means more than just “cooked rice”. During times of strife, war, dislocation, and quarantine, it symbolized for Koreans the value of life itself. Bap also translates to “meal”, embodying the virtues of social engagement, community, charity. For example, a person extends an invitation to friends or acquaintances by asking them if he can treat them to “Bap”–meaning a shared meal and time together.
We look forward to having Bap with you again soon!
This is how we’ve been doing it since 2008 (before adding any seasoning—that’s the next video). But if you want to learn how to make fluffy delicious rice, watch this video. Enjoy!
All sushi workshops, whether they are public ones at our kitchen studio or corporate/private offsites, are suspended until at least May 30, 2020. Upon further direction from municipal, provincial, and federal Health Authorities, we will let you know when workshops will be resumed. Thank you very much for your patience.
As the chef & owner of Sushi Making For The Soul, I wanted to take this time to address the growing uncertainty and concern around the COVID-19 pandemic and our sushi classes. I am mindful of what is of greatest concern to our guests, being as we are in the business of handling and serving food, particularly at this time. Therefore, we have enhanced hygiene practises, sanitation, and social distancing within small groups because all this is critical to slowing the spread of the virus. I understand your anxieties and I share them with you.
Our “Sushi Distancing” measures, include, but are not limited to:
1. Capping our maximum numbers that recommended by The Public Health Agency of Canada (changing on almost daily basis). By doing this we can break up our workstations into multiple stations to ensure recommended social distancing;
2. Greeting all guests at the sanitation station (includes hand cleaners, sanitation wipes, gloves);
3. Securing guest coats and bags away from any work or food stations;
4. Ensuring every guest washes their hands as soon they arrive;
6. Distributing plastic gloves multiple times throughout the class. (Ordinarily, we do not use gloves, simply bare hands and water to pick up rice and other ingredients);
7. Our staff washing and sanitizing their hands every 1/2 hour;
8. Wrapping of all food in plastic wrap before the arrival of workshop participants.
Finally, to our prepaid clients (individuals, corporate, private, public institutions), I wish to calm any anxieties you may have about future classes. You have all been very loyal and trusting of us and we thank you. You will be given priority to re-book classes once this all passes. Dates will be emailed to you to choose from before they are posted publicly. For now, we will continue to follow the recommendations of the Public Health Agency of Canada and keep you informed about the latest developments so you can rely on our commitment to you with peace of mind.
During the challenging weeks and months ahead, I can only wish that you and those closest to you remain safe and healthy. COVID-19 is yet another crisis which great countries like ours can transform into opportunities to bring people together rather than divide them. It is my hope we can act on such an opportunity during this very difficult time.
I look forward to meeting you at a future workshop!
They are the Haenyeo (해녀)- the women of the sea. You will find these grandmothers in the frigid waters off Jeju Island at all times of the year, in search of mollusks, shellfish, octopus, seaweed- anything that will command a reasonable price at the market. They can hold their breaths for up to three minutes, dive as deep as 30 meters, contending daily with hazardous weather, poisonous jellyfish, and sharks. And when they return to land with their catch (men still refer to it as “gathering” or “harvesting”), these indomitable, fiercely-independent women must navigate a rigidly Confucian ecosystem, with archaic ideas about the role of women in a society engineered by men. In the semi-matriarchal haenyeo community, the women are the breadwinners, and it is their husbands who stay home, cook, care for the children. In South Korea, as almost anywhere else with outmoded sensibilities around gender and sex, this has always been equivalent to losing face.
This is the last generation of the haenyeo (almost all of them are in their fifties to late eighties.) At their peak in the 1960s they numbered more than 25,000. Today, there are less than 5,000 plying their trade. It is a practise and way of life in decline. But there is a legacy that will not be denied them. In this small community, in that part of the world, challenged for centuries by every accepted societal norm, these women of the sea have always ruled.