Southeast Asians are stocking up on it. China has embraced it. And South Koreans, who eat it with every meal, are buying even more than usual amid hope that word of its curative powers will boost national fame, culture and fortune overseas.
It is the threat of SARS, or severe acute respiratory syndrome, that has ignited the current interest in kimchi as something more than an acquired taste.
Like kimchi itself, the science is, well, a bit tangy. Hong Jong Hoon, a technical consultant with the Korea Agriculture Development Institute, has played a key role in the kimchi surge by saying what many here quietly believe: The national dish is behind South Korea's almost complete lack of SARS.
The theory was reported by the Financial Times - whose distinctive salmon tone, some have noted, resembles the color of kimchi in the right light. The report boosted shares of kimchi producers and sent export orders flying out of their fermentation vats.
Hong is quick to admit he is not a doctor. But he says he is a scientist knowledgeable about plant diseases and the ways of living organisms. His SARS research was done over the Internet, he says.
Hong says he started at the Center for Disease Control and Prevention's Web site, which cites a suspected causal link between SARS and the coronavirus. He then made his way to Stanford University's site, which lists - along with reducing stress, getting more sleep and frequently washing your hands - putting drops of garlic juice on the nostrils as a way to fight infection.
Put it all together, he says, and you see why South Korea has had only a handful of suspected cases of SARS and no fatalities, despite its close proximity to China, where the virus originated, and to hard-hit Hong Kong and Taiwan.
Hong concedes that many other countries make ample use of garlic in their diets, including Italy and China. But they cook their garlic; Koreans eat theirs raw in kimchi. His theory may be tough to prove, but that doesn't mean it isn't true, he says.
"Medical doctors are in a way artisans. They cut and stitch. They move bones," he says. "But their philosophy comes from chemistry and biology. I studied science and chemistry. I can make some important connections here and there through the Internet."
Health professionals counter, however, that the kimchi theory breeds complacency, spreads potentially false information and otherwise undercuts their efforts to stem the disease.
"It's a major concern with all medicine touted without being proven," says Dr. David L. Heymann, Geneva-based director general of the World Health Organization's communicable disease cluster. "There have been many different products and lots of proposals from different countries involving folk remedies. If they feel it's important, it needs to be studied."
Park Yong Woo, a doctor of family medicine at Seoul's Samsung Hospital, agrees that testing was needed before people leap to any conclusion. But personally, he says, he is convinced of its healing properties.
"I'd like to compare it with an orchestra," Park says. "It's made of cabbage. But within that are a lot of healthy constituents, including garlic, ginger and chile peppers. It's very harmonious food."
This legend in the kimchi world - she holds two kimchi-related doctoral degrees and the unofficial title of "godmother of kimchi studies" - believes the secret is in the fermentation process. In particular, she says, kimchi's helpful bacteria break down and destroy harmful, unwanted microbes.
"It can cope with SARS," says the food scientist, who is sometimes asked overseas if she is so devoted to kimchi because her name is Kim. "They haven't done experiments yet, but harmful diseases can be dominated by the lactobacilli."