Chinese Cedar Jaban

at the World of Flowers Tea Garden in Sancheong

Lee Kyong-ae | Director of Bukchon Museum of Life History

Chinese cedar (Kor. chamjuk) is one mountain green that can be eaten at almost any mountain temple throughout the year. With its unique aroma and savory taste, many monastics regard it the best of the spring greens. It is also a generous plant because one can take young leaves from the same bud several times, and just a few Chinese cedar trees can yield a lot because they grow fast.

The first spring buds can be served raw to enjoy their fresh aroma. Leaves from the second pick can be cooked into jeon, deep fried, or marinated in brine, dried until pliable, and put into Korean chili paste (gochujang) to make jangajji. Leaves from the last pick are added to soy sauce to make jangajji, and the stems are used to make soup stock, along with mushrooms. However, the real taste of Chinese cedar stands out when it is made into jaban. Chinese cedar jaban starts with blanching the leaves that are about two hand spans long. Then let them dry in the shade until pliable. Make a batter by cooking the thick paste of glutinous rice powder and mixing in Korean chili paste. Cover the dried leaves with the batter and dry under the spring sun for about two days. Its chewy texture and fragrant aroma are better than the beef jerky sold in markets. In the old days, food was often scarce, and preparing Chinese cedar greens in spring was a big communal event for both monastics and the laity. Until the early 1970s, in the inland areas of Gyeongsang-do Province where Chinese cedar trees were common, one could frequently see red Chinese cedar jaban hanging on a clothes line in the front yard on a sunny spring day. In the days before refrigerators, many other mountain greens were dried for preservation, but Chinese cedars were preserved in this special way to retain its aroma. In those days, as in the case of other dried greens, one picked even the tough leaves of Chines cedar that were over 30 cm long to make jaban. Glutinous rice paste was a luxury for most people, so they made batter with flour instead. Given these disadvantages, the jaban was a bit tough and could only be eaten after it was fried in oil or deep-fried as a side dish.

The young leaves of Chinese cedar, which are eaten at mountain temples all year round, can be cooked various ways: served raw and seasoned, fried jeon, deep-fried, jagajji in Korean chili paste or soy sauce, in soup stock, and as jaban.

Chinese cedar jaban, which was valued greatly, has gradually disappeared as food became more abundant and refrigerators became common; these days it is rarely seen even at temples. As Chinese cedar is known to protect the liver and spleen, it is effective in removing toxins that accumulate in the body due to pollution; some farms grow Chinese cedar on a large scale. This means that the young leaves of Chinese cedar are available all year, but at the same time, making jaban requires a lot of work, unlike other side dishes. Recently, more and more often Chinese cedar leaves are made into cooked greens, jeon, deep-fried greens, and jangajji, but Chinese cedar jaban is seldom seen at mountain temples anymore.

Concerned about this, Ven. Beopjin of Choamsa Temple in Yeongju made some jaban, along with other devotees, at the home of a Buddhist who lives in a red mud house in the foothills of Mt. Jirisan in Sancheong. Hearing this, I agreed to participate. As Chinese cedar leaves get tougher if not picked at the proper time, Ven. Beopjin set up the date out of her busy schedule and notified me. The house owner, Jieun, makes a living by making a variety of teas from the hundreds of different flowers she picks in the pristine valleys of Mt. Jirisan, and by doing natural dyeing. She has a deep connection with Ven. Beopjin, so about this time every year she goes to pick Chinese cedar leaves on Mt. Jirisan.

Five people took part in the communal work to make jaban: Ven. Beopjin and her nun friend from Gwangju, Jieun, an old woman from Jinju and me. The schedule was tight. Before sunset the leaves must be battered and dried enough not to stick together. Thus, we couldn’t go far, but decided to pick the leaves from a few trees nearby. There were only a few trees but their unique fragrance was noticeable all over the foothills. I had smelled them several times when I was young, but their fragrance was strong enough to make my mind fuzzy. I was not sure whether I was picking leaves or just playing around.

Upon returning to the house, intoxicated by the scent of the Chinese cedar, the homeowner Jieun had already put red chili powder and salt into the cooked glutinous paste. In the old days, people mostly used flour paste and Korean chili paste, but Jieun used her own recipe that resulted in a clearer red color; it was visually more attractive and had a cleaner taste. From then on she has continued to make jaban using her own recipe. Easygoing Ven. Beopjin agreed, saying it is proper to pass on the core principle of traditional food but recipes should continually evolve. Both nuns and the lay women were well versed in temple food; they seemed to work hand in glove and with a single mind. Ven. Beopjin and Jieun also agreed to share the jaban with neighboring Dharma friends.

After hanging the jaban on the clothes line, we ate dinner. We had Chinese cedar jaban that was made last year, and freshly picked and seasoned Chinese cedar leaves. The fresh greens had a refreshing aroma, and the nutty flavor seemed to cleanse the mouth as we chewed. The jaban had an extraordinary ripe aroma, chewy texture, and savory taste. It was much better than the jaban made with flour I ate in my childhood; the flavor was deeper due to fermentation. Both food and cultural traditions should evolve over generations.