Pineapple Kimchi

A fruity condiment that'll spice up your life

I know it’s spring and summer, and we’ve been enjoying the bounty of berries and stone fruits in Paris. But no matter what time of the year it is, I can always eat pineapple, which I did on a recent trip to Taiwan, where pineapples are a staple, either fresh or preserved.

I was intrigued by the fermented pineapple I had while I was there, shown in the jars above, which was saltier than I had imagined. I liked the idea of fermenting the sweet, sturdy fruit, but when I asked my Taiwanese-American friend if he knew how that condiment was made, he asked around but never found out.

I was flipping through my copy of The Apothecary Chef, written by a friend, Natasha MacAller, a former ballerina who became a caterer, then a pastry chef, who included my tarragon vinaigrette recipe in her book:

Natasha’s book explores the intersection between full-flavored foods and their beneficial properties, with recipes such as Hangar steak with dandelion green salsa, Potato and garlic pie, Farro power bowl with tahini-fig dressing, and Persimmon pudding, because persimmons are rich in carotenoids, an antioxidant that comes with a number of health benefits. I knew there was a reason I liked cake so much…

While reading the book, I came across this Pineapple kimchi recipe, which was adapted from another cookbook, Spicebox Kitchen, written by Linda Shiue MD, an internal medicine physician who studies cooking and plant-based nutrition. While my personal philosophy is to eat a wide variety of foods, making sure that I eat a lot of fruits and vegetables, as well as grains and proteins, I certainly don’t deny myself the pleasures of dessert. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have a career.

When I moved to France, way back when, I had trouble finding one of my favorite fermented foods, kimchi, so started making my own, sharing my trials and recipes on my blog. Years later, I wondered if I was going to get into trouble for the kimchi recipes that I’d posted.

Thankfully, the cancellation gods were smiling on me, no doubt realizing that I only had the best of intentions in mind, and to also let people who might not be familiar with kimchi to learn how wonderful it is, and that you can make it anywhere, even in a tiny rooftop Paris apartment.

Cancel me if you want, but I sometimes add pineapple to Thai curries, which lends a hit of cooling freshness against the coconut milk-rich, spicy sauce. But the good news is that I’m off the hook because I just looked it up and Thai people do add pineapple to curries. Whew, that was close.

I did take a few liberties with this recipe, which called for 3 tablespoons of water, but I used the runoff of pulpy juices left on the cutting board after preparing the pineapple as part of that 3 tablespoons.

While the recipe doesn’t specifically call for it, I use Red Boat fish sauce. When I went to visit them in Vietnam, I learned that many fish sauces are made with all sorts of seafood. Cuong, who makes RB fish sauce along with his family, said that some sauces are prepared from fish that have been sitting on the boat for a couple of days, whereas the anchovies used in his fish sauce get salted right away to preserve them until they get back to shore. I’m not on their payroll, but his fish sauce is one of those quality ingredients that really does make a difference when you use it.

Speaking of quality, the theory that you can tell a pineapple is ripe ‘n ready is if you can easily pluck out a center leaf from the spiky top, which will only show you how to raise the ire of the people at the market who sell pineapples. The best way to tell if a pineapple is ripe is to sniff it near the base. It should smell sweet and like the tropics. Avoid pineapples with mold around the base or soft, mushy spots.

I’ve prepared a lot of pineapples in my time and my favorite way to do it is to lop off both ends, then trim off the skin with a chef’s knife. Then use a knife to cut around the line of the eyes, following them as they spiral around the pineapple, making a V-shape indentation on both sides of the eyes, to remove them. You can also pluck them out with the tip of a pointed vegetable peeler.

Romain loved this kimchi when I served it for dinner shortly after I made it. This is, indeed, a terrific and fresh condiment that goes well with fish or roast pork, or as a component in a rice bowl, along with tofu or shrimp, pickled vegetables, and whatever else you’ve got to add to the bowl.

While we ate some of this kimchi right away, I stored the rest in glass jars in the refrigerator, and it’s been a convenient condiment to have on hand.