photos and interview by Shab Ferdowsi
Saehee is the kind of person who makes me feel like I can do anything.
We met in the middle of the pandemic when she was operating Soon Mini and I was running my pizza pop-up business. Saehee and her team of volunteers were delivering farmers’ market groceries around Los Angeles, sourcing directly from farmers and artisans (learn more about it on KCRW). Because I don’t drive, I was always having a hard time getting my week’s bounty of produce for my events so I reached out to Saehee for help.
For a couple of months, Saehee would go out of her way to drop off a box of fresh vegetables and sometimes cheese on my doorstep. Every now and then I would make a batch of spicy marinara or basil oil for her customers. She had a similar relationship with other independent food makers and craft artisans in town— Soon Mini quickly became a community with Saehee bringing it all together giving us space to experiment and sell our work.
But beyond her ability to empower a community , what I admire most about Saehee is her approach to life and creativity. She’s not just a cook but also a writer, not just a caterer but also a food stylist, not just a photographer but an artist who simply pursues the things she is drawn to in whatever form that might take.
Lately I’ve been struggling with my constant curiosity, my genuine enthusiasm for multiple avenues to satisfy my creativity. Why do I have to decide on any one thing to be?
Saehee is the kind of person who makes me feel like I can do anything. Live horizontally and try it all!
Read on for my interview with the artist, where we dive into slow travel, building a sustainable life, Korean food and more, alongside photos I took in the kitchen before her Soon Mini Bar pop up in July.
When you were studying creative writing at Cal Arts, what were you interested in writing about? And how has that changed over time, if it has?
I started Calarts writing microfiction and short stories. Throughout my time there I kept thinking about advice Rae Armantrout had given me in undergrad to only use essential words, to keep slimming the prose. This isn’t to say the prose shouldn’t be descriptive or lush or beautiful; it means each word needs to be charged with purpose – whether that’s to move the action of a narrative or to evoke a precise emotion. The more I slimmed my prose, the more it started to look like poetry until it was.
Over time, I’ve needed to utilize poetry, fiction, and essay to puzzle together a writing practice. For me, they are practically different languages and approach meaning from different angles. Maybe this is just an unwillingness to pick a lane but I’d argue that poetry accesses something abstract and almost transcendent, whereas essay feels deeply satisfying in a completely different way. Essay feels like problem solving, it feels like both excavating and building at the same time.
In another interview you mentioned deciding to build a sustainable life around your passions for writing and cooking rather than focusing on "building a career" in any direction. Was that a natural progression of your creativity or was there a moment where you thought about diving into either field full force?
As a culture I think we give disproportionate value to the singular focus of career or what I’ve been calling, vertical living. I think it’s helpful to think of my work as a practice because it allows work to breathe and change naturally. There’s nothing wrong with having a strong focus in any one direction but for myself, I’ve always known I need both food and writing. Writing is synonymous with thinking for me–it’s how I make sense of the world. I often don’t know what I’m thinking until I take the time to commit it to paper. Food is how I contribute, it’s the way I take care of the people around me. It’s tangible, consumable love. Neither are money-making ventures but then again, my life is relatively financially simple. I’m not trying to accrue wealth or support a family so this allows me to live very much for the moment. I make money so that I can continue the projects I care about. Traditional models could certainly view this as irresponsible or selfish but I’d argue that it’s the opposite. I’m not trying to take up more space or resources than I need.
Let's talk briefly about Soon Mini. What was the most challenging part of running it? What was the easiest?
Soon Mini was and is an incredible blessing on so many levels. I’ve always believed in the power of community and skill sharing but I’ve never seen it manifest so clearly and beautifully. The work was exhausting, meaningful, and absolutely joyful. In reflection it was a truly pure endeavor and in that way I think it couldn’t last.
Logistically it was incredibly hard to manage because it grew so quickly without any capital to support it. From the beginning it operated without the intention of making any profit because during the height of the pandemic it felt exploitative to make money from a situation of need. This ultimately made it hard to sustain in its original form because it had to lean on the generosity of volunteers, which in turn becomes a different kind of exploitation if it isn’t properly managed.
The easiest part was actually growing the community. It took so many hands to make Soon Mini happen and its growth was completely due to the kindness and generosity of friends who wanted to contribute during a time when so many of us felt helpless. I will forever be indebted to Keegan Fong of Woon for opening up his space, all of the volunteer drivers who spent their limited free time driving all over Los Angeles, my friend Mar Peidro who handled all the complicated accounting, and of course the participating farms and food upstarts (like yourself) that contributed their time and talent to the endeavor.
You've been going to Mexico on and off over the past few years for extended periods of time. What keeps drawing you there?
It’s quite hard to be succinct about what keeps drawing me back to Mexico. I have lots of hesitations and questions about ethical tourism and I think for myself, it’s important to not participate in a version of tourism that is about dipping in and dipping out. Travel takes time, research, and humility. Of course, not everyone has a work schedule that allows them to spend a month at a time abroad. I acknowledge I am very lucky in this way. The more time I spend in Mexico, the more complex and unknowable to me and I think there’s real beauty in that.
Separately, I started traveling to Mexico to research the Korean-Yucatecs, a relatively undocumented diasporic group that left Korea in 1905. It’s why I’m here now. I’ve been working on this project since 2018 and I return to it whenever I have the time and financial ability.
Travel isn’t necessarily about leisure for me. Travel allows me space to continue my writing practice. Over the years, LA has become an increasingly difficult place for me to write from. My life becomes consumed by food work when I’m there, which is wonderful but it’s become difficult for me to switch gears into writing mode when I’m in the middle of food chaos. Everyone who works in food knows there’s no such thing as light food work. If you’re not in the thick of it, you’re recovering from it.
How do you spend your free time when you have any? Do you have any hobbies you enjoy outside of your work?
My work and hobbies are pretty much the same thing. I also love photography, like yourself. Over the years photography has helped develop a way of seeing. When you always have a camera on you, you look at the world differently. You see in frames. You are always, actively searching for beauty. It also pushes and challenges me into uncomfortable situations. For example, I don’t take photos of people unless I get their explicit permission. This often forces me to start conversations or talk to people whereas otherwise I would have no other reason to.
What was your favorite dish growing up?
Shab! You of all people know how impossible this question is! I could list 20 different dishes based on mood. Currently what is coming to mind is Neng Myun, which is a Korean buckwheat noodle in a cold vinegar-y beef based broth. I had an obsession with vinegar as a kid, to the point where my first AIM chat handle was “Shikjoe” which is the Korean word for vinegar. I used to add so much vinegar to my Neng Myun that my lips would go white from all the acid. I still do.
What is your favorite ingredient to cook with?
I don’t know about my favorite ingredient but I do think I have a shortlist of essential ingredients. As I’ve been traveling a lot recently I’ve realized I can get by pretty well as long as I have access to rice, eggs, pasta, soy sauce, and olive oil. I can make a feast as long as I have those basics. I’ve made many meals on the road from foraged bits and convenience store goods. It proves to me that good food isn’t about the luxury of ingredients, it’s about making do with what you have.
