Renee walked into our kimchi-making class holding a bunch of fresh garlic chives.
With the sweetest, most careful voice she asked,
“Is it okay if I use garlic chives… instead of crushed Korean garlic?”

For a moment, Celina and I, Kate paused.
Kimchi without our usual Korean-style garlic? We’d honestly never even thought about it.
But we smiled and told her, “Of course—Lets give it a go!”
And that tiny moment of openness turned the whole experience into something unexpectedly wonderful.

To our surprise, the kimchi we made together tasted still amazing.
The chives brought a bright, fresh aroma, and her choice blended into the paste in the most delightful way.  As we stirred the gluttonous rice flour base and mixed the seasoning with our hands, we could feel a shared rhythm forming—like cooking itself was a conversation.

Once we finished making the kimchi, we sat down with freshly boiled pork belly—our version of “Bossam.”
We ate, laughed, compared food traditions from old to now, and even got a little nerdy talking about fermentation and history over food.
It was one of those simple, cosy afternoons where time seems to slow down.

Honestly, it still feels unreal that we get to do this—
cooking, chatting, sharing food, and leaning each other. 

If this isn’t the definition of a joyful life in Australia, I don’t know what is.

That day reminded me of something important:
You don’t always need “perfect” ingredients or strict rules.
Sometimes, someone’s gentle suggestion—or their careful question—opens the door to a new flavour, a new story, and a new memory.

Renee’s “Can I use garlic chives?” moment wasn’t just about food.
It was about sharing cultures, trusting each other, and letting creativity mix in like seasoning.

And the result?
A beautiful, delicious batch of kimchi—and a heartwarming connection that might just ferment into something even better with time.