Where Our Food Begins — The Farm at House of Mi-Rin

Before a single dish is plated in our dining room, its story begins on the farm.

At House of Mi-Rin, our farm is not the “back end” of the experience — it is the heart. Just a minute’s walk from the kitchen, rows of vegetables, herbs, flowers, and fruit trees grow quietly in the open air, surrounded by hills and watched over by our animals. This closeness means our ingredients don’t travel by truck or plane; they simply cross a path. Food miles become footsteps. Freshness becomes immediate.

We grow as naturally as possible: organic, pesticide-free, and chemical-free. The soil is treated as a living organism, not a medium for production. Compost, mulch, and time are our greatest tools. We plant with the seasons, observe the weather, and adjust our rhythms in response to the land. Some days the farm is generous; other days, it is humbling. Either way, we listen.

Our growing philosophy is shaped by Korean and Asian sensibilities, where every part of a plant has potential — roots, stems, leaves, flowers. Radish tops become side dishes, spring onion greens flavour oils and broths, fig leaves are dried for tea and bath herbs. Nothing is wasted lightly. In this way, the farm teaches us resourcefulness, respect, and gratitude.

High-prana food begins here: seeds selected with care, seedlings raised gently, and plants allowed to grow without chemical interference. When we harvest, we do it with intention — picking only what we need for that day’s service, so that what arrives in the kitchen is still buzzing with life. You can taste this immediacy: in a just-picked snow pea, in a freshly pulled radish, in herbs that still carry the warmth of the afternoon sun.

Our animals are part of this ecosystem too. Iza, our dairy cow, and her calf Ping, the goats, chickens, and other farm residents all contribute to the cycle of life on the land — from milk and eggs, to manure that returns nourishment back into the soil. The farm at House of Mi-Rin is not a backdrop; it is our teacher, our pantry, and our quiet guide. Every root we pull, every leaf we pick, is a reminder: true nourishment begins with how we grow, how we care, and how gently we walk upon the earth.