Mi-Rin Farm

09/03/2026

Burdock — a quiet staple in Korean kitchens. You’ll find it in gimbap, bibimbap, and many humble home dishes.

We grew them on the farm last season. When the plants bolted and went to seed, we let them be, and later collected the seeds so we can grow them again when the season returns.

One of those ingredients that quietly nourishes, season after season. We braise them as banchan (a simple side dish), and dry some to brew into a warm, comforting tea.

This season we’ll be planting plenty more, so we can share this humble goodness with our guests at
#우엉

13/01/2026

9/1/2026 📝

A reminder of how close we came to losing our farm.
The day began heavy. A catastrophic day declared. 40°C heat for the third day in a row, with damaging, unpredictable winds — a perfect recipe for disaster.

The animals were fed quickly. The rest of the team headed home under looming warnings, while three of us stayed back to do what we could to protect the farm, the animals, and the building.

We couldn’t leave the animals behind. They deserve the same chance to survive as we do. Staying to defend felt instinctive — fear didn’t cross our minds, only responsibility.

It came close.
Then, a shift in the wind changed everything — sparing our town and our land.

We were incredibly lucky. Walking the farm afterward, we found burnt leaves and embers scattered everywhere — each one a potential spark for another fire. It was a sobering reminder that even after the flames move on, the danger lingers.

So we kept working. Clearing dry leaves. Removing compost. Burying what we could deep into the ground, topping it with fresh manure, soaking it through. Installing new sprinklers to keep the land wet and protected.

We know we are at the mercy of forces far bigger than us — but this land, these animals, this place, are our responsibility.
We were spared that day. Grateful for the shift in wind, for protection, and for the chance to keep going.

06/01/2026

Thank you to Options, The Edge and editor Diana Khoo for capturing our journey with such care.
From bare land to what it is today — we’re grateful to have this moment documented. 🙏🏻❣️

Their nature retreat in Yea, Australia aims to welcome all who seek to step away from the city and experience a gentler way of living.

05/01/2026

Our mornings start with Iza.
Every day we milk her — it used to be by hand, but thanks to the milking machine, it’s a little faster now. Her milk gets pasteurised, chilled, the cream skimmed, then churned.

Churning is messy and slow… until suddenly it happens.
The butter comes together — golden, clean, alive — and the buttermilk breaks.

We wash the butter in ice water (at least five times, until the water runs clear), knead in salt, then shape quenelles for dinner service. There are always off-cuts, so nothing goes to waste — they become ghee.

Zero wastage, always.

02/01/2026

Day 2 of 2026.

And just like that, 2025 has quietly passed, and 2026 arrives without much warning. The farm is deep in the height of summer — the heat intense, the days long.

If there’s one thing summer gives generously, it’s abundance.
Strawberries, cherries, plums, nectarines, and juicy peaches — the kind of harvest that reminds us why we do this.

Ready or not, a new year is here.
Whether it’s setting intentions, clearing stagnant energy, or simply finding steadiness in the rhythm of the land, we step into 2026 with hope — for a generous harvest, kind weather, and a year that unfolds gently.

Happy New Year everyone ❤️

23/12/2025

Some days are about the work.
And then there are days like this.

Our Christmas party started at 1pm and somehow carried us all the way to 10pm — good company, plates that kept coming, bottles that kept opening, laughter that got louder as the sun went down.

It’s the one day in the year where everyone pauses their roles.
Just food, drinks, stories, laughter - and the kind of ease that only comes when people feel safe together.

We cooked too much. We poured generously.
There was music, teasing, quiet conversations in corners, and moments where we stopped just to look around and realise how lucky we are.

Today was also about recognising those who showed up — consistently, quietly, wholeheartedly. Our star performers of the year. Ella, for being the best team player and Kristy, star performer of year. Not just for skill, but for care, reliability, generosity, and the way they hold the team together when no one’s watching.

Our work is demanding.
Some days are long and hard.
But moments like this remind us why we build slowly, why we choose people carefully, and why we believe hospitality starts long before guests arrive.

Thank you to this team — for the work you do, and for the joy you bring into this place.
This is what we’re celebrating.

Merry Christmas from all of us ❤️❣️

19/12/2025

Thank you and for the feature on House of Mi-Rin. What started as bare land has, over years of patience and care, become a place guided by season, quiet work, and intention.
We’re grateful to have this journey shared.🙏 ❤️💫