Recognition of an ancient truth
When I discovered the principles of the ketogenic diet and low-carb, I didn't feel like I was learning anything new. I felt like I was rediscovering my grandmother's language. In the kitchens of Seoul, long before Western nutritionists theorized ketosis, we practiced a form of metabolic wisdom out of pure instinct for survival and taste. Rice, although present, was not the ogre it has become in modern industrial food. It was a modest base, often mixed with other seeds or roots, and best of all, it was surrounded by an army of vegetables, healthy fats, and fermented proteins. What we call 'keto' today is only the scientific rediscovery of a balance that ancestral cultures had already stabilized.
This traditional structure was not a 'diet' in the modern sense — a temporary restriction to achieve an aesthetic goal. It was a way of inhabiting the world. We didn't count the carbohydrates, we respected the density. We didn't shy away from fat, we revered it as the source of warmth and strength. Looking back, I realize that Korean cuisine is, in essence, a cuisine of stability. It aims to maintain constant energy for work in the fields or the rigor of winters. The keto didn't invent anything; he simply put into words a biological reality that our ancestors felt in their muscles and their clarity of mind.
Starch as a luxury, plants as a foundation
Historically, in Korea, refined grains were rare. The people ate what the land offered: roots, mountain herbs, cabbages, radishes. This apparent 'poverty' was in reality metabolic wealth. By naturally limiting fast carbohydrates, our ancestors avoided the diseases of civilization that plague us today. The meal was built around Namul (seasoned vegetables) and Kimchi (fermentations). This non-starchy plant base ensured lasting satiety and a robust microbiota. The rice was just a side dish, not the center of gravity.
Today we have inverted this pyramid. We have made sugar and starch the basis of our diet, relegating living things to the periphery. Returning to a low-carb approach simply restores the natural hierarchy. It’s putting the plant and the protein back at the center, where they have always been for millennia. It's not a revolution, it's a restoration. By adopting this lifestyle, we are not taking a leap into the unknown, we are coming home. We find a metabolic functioning for which our body was designed by centuries of evolution.
The liquid gold of tradition
In ancient Korean cuisine, no fat was wasted. Pork fat, beef tallow, hand-pressed seed oils...these sources of energy were precious. We intuitively understood that fat was the vector of flavor and the guarantor of satiety. A soup without a film of golden oil on its surface was considered poor, incapable of real nourishment. This enhancement of lipids is at the heart of the keto framework. We are rediscovering that fat is not the enemy, but the cleanest and most efficient fuel for our brains and muscles.
What's fascinating is how we marry these fats with digestive agents. Ginger, garlic, chili peppers and acid fermentations are not there by chance. They are the metabolic partners of lipids. They help the body to emulsify and absorb them without heaviness. It is this culinary intelligence that is often lacking in modern keto approaches, which are sometimes too simplistic. Tradition teaches us that to eat fat and stay healthy, you have to eat lively and spicy. This is a lesson in nutritional synergy that we must relearn to succeed in our metabolic transition.
The bridge between eras
If there is one element that proves that keto existed before the word, it is fermentation. Kimchi, Doenjang (soy paste), Ganjang (soy sauce)... these foods are miracles of preservation and health. By transforming the natural sugars of vegetables into organic acids using bacteria, fermentation reduces the glycemic load while multiplying nutrients. It's the ultimate low-carb: we remove the sugar and add life. Our ancestors didn't know what a probiotic was, but they did know that a jar of fermented vegetables was the key to a disease-free winter.
This practice connects us to a lineage of women and men who survived through their understanding of natural cycles. By integrating these foods into our modern daily lives, we activate a biological memory. Our body recognizes these deep, acidic flavors. He knows how to use them to stabilize our blood sugar and boost our immunity. Fermentation is living proof that wisdom never goes out of style. It is the golden thread that connects the ancestral past to the future of personalized nutrition.
Living your tradition
Adopting a low-carb diet is not an act of deprivation, it is an act of reconnection. It means refusing the illusions of industrial modernity to embrace the realities of our biology. Korean cuisine offers us a complete model, tested by time, to experience this transition with pleasure and elegance. We don't need new 'keto' products packaged in plastic; we need to get back into our kitchens, handle real ingredients and stick to proven structures.
Before keto, there was life. A life punctuated by the seasons, nourished by the earth and stabilized by wisdom. By regaining this structure, we not only lose weight or improve our health markers. We find our place in a human lineage. We become sovereign beings of their own energy again. And it is, in the end, the only real destination of this culinary journey.
