Peter Green

March 28 – Janghowon’s Market Daze Note – with Yoonhi away in the wilds of Western Canada, I made use of my neighbor. She puts a Busan perspective on things, whereas generally I get my data from the Seoul side. Downtown Janghowon. This is the town centre, complete with a tall blue thingy exhorting the “Kyeonggi people to join their strong Seouls together and set things on fire at Icheon.” I figure it’s either some sporting event, or their going to firebomb the main town. I appreciate that you can develop an attitude about these things in the suburbs (just look at Surrey to Vancouver). But, while it’s a hot topic, pyromania wasn’t on the agenda today. We’d lucked out by a happy congruence of fate (Jason had a game, Doddie wasn’t busy, Scud and I were….well….heck, you’ve got an idea of how well planned we are) and we were here on the right Sunday to catch the farmers’ market. And this was a farmers’ market. No semi-permanent stands, no cute logos. Packaging wasn’t a high priority here, which makes it all the more attractive to me. Unlike the gentrified “markets” we’ve grown accustomed to in the West, this is all pretty utilitarian, and targeted as much to the farmers as the farmers are targeting the townsfolk. Pots - stewing pots, chiggae pots, and more pots. And some good, functional mortars and pestles. You need gear, the shops here have gear. And then there are rakes, scythes, shovels…… And there’re even a few hoes hanging around looking for business. Sorry. These things just slip out. This is an example of the sort of packaging I like. Fresh sesame oil, poured into soju bottles. No fussing about with cute names and labels. Just pour it in, slap a price on it, and get it moving. We may be a long way inland, but there was plenty of seafood. That’s miyeok, the thick kelp, stacked to the back, and, and there’s a bit of fresh kim in the wire mesh, which can be made into the more recognizable sheets (“nori”) later. The middle part of the kelp, the hard part, is dried, shredded and salted. When it’s time to use it, you soak it for a very, very long time. When it softens you can fry it with garlic for a pleasant side dish. There was fresh miyeok, too. This is wonderful lightly pickled, (like in a sunimono) or else used as the basis for stock (dashima – one of many borrowed Japanese words). You can also use this, when it’s young and fresh like this, for ssum. A little further up, these gentlemn were making sheets of fresh kim (nori). They waved me over and I tried a piece, hot from the oven. I bought a couple of packets like lightning. Of course there was fish. This is Korea. It’s just nice to see it when it’s not dried. Mackerel and cod. I still remember that mackerel at Shunbo in Bangkok, salted and blowtorched at the table. The size of my thunb, I thought these were baby octopi for san nakji, but my friend says that they’re something else, so we’re open for comments. Whatever they’re called, they looked good enough to snatch one up and eat it there on the spot. (But that would probably be frowned upon). You just can’t get away from the dried fish, though. Tied in yellow ribbon was bug eo. This is shredded and used in making a clear soup, supposedly good for hangovers Forget our classifications of food groups. It seems to me that in Korea, food is either going to be good for you, or else it will help cure a hangover. Or it’ll be both. Back to the bug eo, this stuff is tough. You have to beat it up first in order to soften it enough for shredding. My friend had a really good Busan saying about this, but I’d probably better stay quiet. These were fresh water produce. Between the clams on the right and the shrimp on the left is a big plastic tub of godi. This is extremely popular now asa goditang – a soup. Of course, it’s healthy for you. Everything has to be healthy for you in Korea. Consider, for instance, this stuff. The sign says “what is gang hwon?” (Chinese reading, I think - the Korean is yul geum). So I asked my friend. She said “I don’t know. You need to take better pictures. I can’t read that.” Rest assured, though, that it’s good for you. There were stacks, and sacks, and racks, and bales of stuff to keep you healthy. Bark, powders, weeds, and roots. (I’d like to add “cats and rats and elephants”, but everything looked to be from the plant family). Along with the dried stuff and the packets, there was also honey. Honey’s expensive in Korea (well, it’s not cheap most places) as it’s associated with nature and health. One of the newer fads was Himalayan honey. We’d been asked to arrange to have some sent to Korea, but I couldn’t find anyone willing to haul the stuff for me (and Korea is rather tight on agricultural imports, too). Herbal teas are all the rage. Almost anything can be dried and then rehydrated into a tea. Here we have a stand given over to dried chrysanthemum. “The King of Diet”, they say, and a guarantee of lower blood pressure. And then there’s san minari – san for mountain. Harvested in the wild it will improve your childrens’ brains, prevent itchy skin, cure bad breath and constipation, shed body fat, relieve joint pain, help your liver out, and retrieve the Holy Grail. Alright, I made up the “Holy Grail” part. Really, if I want “tea” for a hot day, I’m content with the traditional boricha and oksusucha. The lower bin says bori, and it looks like what I’ve got in my kitchen. The upper one, I believe, is the roasted corn for oksusucha (but I've been wrong before). Between the two, I’m a bori man myself, but I hold with a person’s free choice (even if their choice isn’t as good as mine). For my health (what's left of it), give me fresh fruit and berries. Strawberries and little cherry tomatoes, and kumquats. The first kumquats we’d ever had were in Korea, in Cheju. Scud was about 9 months old and was cramming them in his mouth. I should have an embarrassing baby picture of him around here somewhere……. These little melons are just cute. Cham way. The apples and pears in Korea are wonderful things. Crisp and sweet, and dripping sugar. Janghowon itself is famous for its peaches, but the season wasn’t here. I’ll live vicariously through Doddie for now. Of course there are greens. The bundled stuff in the middle (above the onions) is yeol mu – a form of radish – and the raw material for mu kimchi Above that is gaktogi (another kimchi favourite) – the buried part white, and the part that sticks out of the ground green. And then, of course, there are mushrooms. Shitakes up in the upper right. In the supermarkets they won’t let us take pictures, but out here it’s not an issue, so I snapped away. I was really tempted to buy some, but I knew that we’d never get around to cooking anything in our last two days in Korea. Still they just cried out for a skillet. Along with the local produce (I could stare at those mushrooms all day) imports are also making their way into Korea. I believe the round things are a kohlrabi, aren’t they? My friend says they’re not native to Korea. I should have recognized the bracken fern – kosari. But it’s a lighter brown in colour here compared to what I’m used to from Vancouver, where the halmonis would work Central Park for its crop every year. Very local, however, are the bean sprouts. The big yellow ones, the kongnamul, are some of my favourites. On a sunny Sunday like this, the sprouts almost look like a flock of chicks peering up from the crowd into the light. Soybeans, of course, have more uses than just looking good and tasting great as banchan. On the left here are bricks of fermented bean paste - mae. This’ll be soaked with a lot of water and salt and then the soy sauce will be drawn off of this, and the dross will used for making that uniquely smelly broth the different garu on the right (maeju and misut), which in turn are used in making cheongukjang and denjang. The brown plastic bags are cheongukjang, the smell of which I commented upon back near the start of this trip. And there’s some more well packaged soy sauce in those recycled water bottles. On the upper right they have two types of gaennip banchan – one in soy, and the other in salt and chilis. I’d llike to comment on the other bins, but, as Scud says “it’s all just red.” On the bottom are some pickled garlic stems (I recall someone had a thread around here asking about what to do with them), and then there are pickled chilis. The top bucket is a bit of a mystery to us, so if anyone knows, chime in. Continuing with vegetables, there was chicken. Lots of chicken. Eggs, breasts, legs, and feet. Lots and lots of feet And then there were the famous black chickens, segregated in cages on the side in a fowl act apartheid. This was something I didn’t get to try this trip, and will have to look for next time. The meat is darker, and my friend said this is particularly for grilling. Chicken is all well and good, but really, Korean food should be red. I found the offal buckets. Towels of tripe, and colons of kopchang. I’m trying to remember what all the different names were for the various nasty bits. I’d like to think that Fergus Henderson would be happy here. Asia has always subscribed to the nose to tail philosophy of eating, and I see nothing wrong with that. If you’re going to kill something for food, you shouldn’t be wasting things. I don’t see a lot of heart and tongue on Korean menus. I wonder if it’s handled as a separate item, or if confined to side dishes such as we’d been eating earlier. And brain. I’ve yet to see brain on a Korean menu. Is it traditionally not eaten, I wonder, or have people been chased away by the cholesterol thing? Checking with my source, I could feel the blank look over the phone line. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat brains.” Rooting about, we found fresh lotus (on top) and this elongated thing on the bottom – wu ong. It’s peeled, soaked, and then chopped into matchsticks and used for flavour. The yellow stuff is jopsal (or “jo”) – a grain. The purple stuff above it, and the large white cubes are a mystery to us, so go ahead and jump in here, please! My ignorance is really a pain at times. I passed right by this. It’s part of the raw material for making makkeoli – jilgeum (and that’s salted shrimp – seugot – above). Odeng is another thing that catches my friend’s interest whenever a shot comes up. Myself, I must admit it doesn’t do a lot for me, but I wouldn’t get in the path of a Korean who’s seen some. Ddeok has the same effect. My friend singled out the one at the bottom left corner. This is made by layering the ddeok in sheets, adding the beans, and steaming. Then it’s cut up. But she liked the other ones, too. But, for her, this was the anomaly. “I can’t believe they’re selling that yellow cake again.” In the old days (we’re talking 1970s here) when rice was in short supply and there wasn’t a lot of food, this was the quickest, lamest thing you could make in order to get the kids to hush and eat. Or, as her husband says “it’s make-the-kids-shut-up food.” Flour, some sweet read beans (phat) and that’s abou it. The potato ddeok above and to the left met with similar derision. “You eat this when you can’t afford real ddeok. It’s okay when it’s hot, but when it cools it’s just black and nasty.” The sundae in the upper right is just sundae, though, so it’s okay. Retro food. Speaking of retro, there was some non-food stuff for sale, too, but there wasn’t much of it. Ahtom (Astro Boy) – poster child for the Toto Museum – is just as popular out here. And even I recognized the Three Ugly Siblings dolls. I think every Korean female above the age of 40 had to have had a set of these when she was a kid. Pigs tails. Yoonhi has fond memories of being a small child and worrying away at these until there was just a sad little string of a thing left at the end. The bang was in operation, churning out bags of puffed rice, puffed corn, and puffed ddeok. The popped rice cake (ddeok) wasn’t something I’d noticed before. Like crackers. Steamed buns always have a place in a Korean’s heart. Filled with red bean paste, these are a cheerful takeaway. And another retro moment – old fashioned crackers. These are made from flour. In the back are a form of mandu (dumplings) ready for frying. Nothing fancy at all, but satisfying. In contrast there were dried fruits and Japanese style crackers. And what would a market be without some bundaeggi (silk worm larvae)? (”For starters, it would smell a lot better!” pipes up someone.) Honestly, most of you know I’ll eat most anything once. There are somethings, though, where once is enough. Honestly, you can’t have a market without having places to eat, and there were plenty of opportunities for grabbing a bite. It’s just that we’d filled up on beef already, and we’d be hard pressed to muster up enough will for anything bigger than a goldfish. This was a pretty display. More odeng. My source was interested in this. They’d wrapped the odeng around something with a chopstick protruding, and it was in a ddeokbokki-like sauce (but with no ddeok). Did I mention "goldfish"? There was a fresh pot (remember those ones on sale, earlier?) of blood soup, large dark chunks of congealed blood in a broth to die for. It may not look pretty, but I was sort of wishing I had more appetite for this walk. And on a final note, we’ll go out on stems and seeds. Beside peaches and rice, this area is also well known for their chilies (gochu), and I’d hardly let something like a good chili go unremarked.

March 29 – Visiting Doddie It had been an early night, which was good, as this was an early morning. Scud and I needed to catch a bus to Janghowon. We had a day planned with Doddie and the family. The bus depot on a Sunday morning was at first, as expected, grim. There were a few people hanging around for rides, grimacing at the pavement in front of them, nursing their cigarettes. We did the initial confusion thing, bouncing between the two ticket booths until someone agreed that they could sell us a ticket to Janghowon, and then we joined the early morning collection of George E. Romero extras on the cold plastic seats. The remnant chill of the night before still lingered in our bones. But this grey mood soon lifted. People were doing Sunday visiting; either alighting from a bus – coming into town; or boarding (it goes both ways) in formal hanbok – the traditional Korean dress, bubbling greetings or farewells with their family at the vehicle’s door, the driving grumbling good naturedly for them to get out of the way. And you notice the accents here. There’s Seoul Korean, which we all get used to from the movies and K-pop and just, well, being in Seoul, but that slides away at times like this and you start catching the country lilt creeping in. It’s hard not to be cheered up by this. And cheerfulness leads to food, say I. I thought it best to feed the boy before we set off, so we did a survey of the bus depot, walking the two corridors looking for something of interest. The first place we looked at was the “everything store”, which are always a lot more fun. There were some steamed bums, potato dumplings, and mandu inside a container in at the first place place. It was just a question of when they’d been steamed. Likewise, this place also had fried stuff on sticks; sandwiches sliced and cling wrapped; more fired stuff on sticks; hardboiled eggs; and, way in the back, more fried stuff on sticks. Scud had more traditional tastes for breakfast, though, and honed in on the baked goods. The Boy went for a strange bun like thing stuffed with stuff, while I had a croissant. The drive was uneventful, but I count that to be a good thing. An hour or more through the sprawl of Seoul and its new cities, and then into the farmland that clings to every valley. As we approached Icheon, our bus turned local, and we began to make stops every kilometer or so, inching our way to our target. Janghowon was the second to last stop on the line, so I was keeping a paranoid eye out for the hangul so we didn’t overshoot. I needn’t have worried. The town was clearly labeled, and almost everyone else was getting off here, too. It makes me wonder what’s at the end of the line. When we’d visited Doddie last time, we’d met in Icheon. That had seemed “small town” after being in Seoul. But Jamhowong is another matter. I believe Doddie said there were about 7,000 people in the town – officially listed as a suburb of Icheon, but it’s at least a half hour or more away. Heck, one city block in Seoul would have more people than this town (mind you, it’s a pretty good size town by Canadian standards). Hence, it wasn’t hard for us to find Doddie. There isn’t that much of a crowd to be lost in. Bad news came up first. Her husband and son were both sick, so the opportunity of meeting them was going to be passed by. But, these things happen. Instead we headed for a beef restaurant the Doddie likes. It’s the pride and joy of her ex-driver – Mr. Chang – who’d worked for them for 3 years. He’d recently opened up this place. Bright, airy, and cheerful are the sort of words I should use here. And it was a pleasant place to take lunch. After the shadows of the big city, is was refreshing to have the clear, unfiltered light that this afforded us. Spring onion beautifully shredded and dressed with a blood-spatter of sauce. There was cole slawand kim chi as well, and sesamed salt and onions for the meat. While Suwon may be famous for their beef, I found nothing wrong with the meat here. It wasn’t as well marbled as what we’d had the night before, but the meat had a good softness to it off the grill, and a slight sweetness to the flesh. The quartet of cuts was grilled and eaten in a counterclockwise rotation. The chiggae was thick, hot, and spiced to a medium level. The thickness of the broth is what I love, that and that smell of kimchi and peppers, with the meat stock backing it up. And there was also steamed egg with shad roe and a pretty sprinkle of chopped green onion. A perfectly good meal for a Sunday lunch in the country. The sort of thing to fortify us for a walk through the market fair. Next – A walk through the market fair (What! That wasn’t enough of a lead in?]/i])

Top of my head, lemongrass "margarita"? A take on what I had in Northern Thailand. Use the fish sauce to take up a bit of the saltiness, lime juice, lemongrass infused spirit of some sort, and sugar syrup to combat the salt and bitterness? Heck, decorate it with a lightly steamed prawn and put an umbrella in it!

I'll echo that, Bryan. Which parts did you feel were the highlights, and what parts would you have done differently? A great trip, indeed. Cheers, Peter

March 28 – “It is meat and right to do so” We were down in Suwon for a football (soccer) match between the Korean national team and the Iraqis. Jason said that a match here was something to see, and I’m not about to disagree with him. The stadium itself is a beautiful thing, built for the world cup, with roofing designed to emulate a bird’s wings. It has an elegant feel about it, rather than like the utilitarian nature of the Olympic stadium – Jamshil – that we’d been in before. If that baseball game was something, this was really over the top, from the traditional opening ceremony to the chanting and singing. Oh, and they played football, too. Mind you, as hot as the crowd was, the weather was freezing. It had turned biting cold, and we weren’t dressed well enough for this sort of chill. We could hardly bear to wait out the game (Korea won 2-1, with Korea scoring all 3 goals), and race for someplace warm. Right across the street from the stadium was a han-u restaurant. Suwon is famous for their beef. More important, it would be grilled at the table, which meant we’d be warm. Suddenly the idea of a heat source seemed very important. We made certain to get a table far from the door, and had them drop in some charcoal right away. I nursed a warm cup of boricha and held it to my mouth, letting the vapour thaw out my nose. A salad, some greens, a starter dish of garlic (we’d go through more), pepper, and a wet sauce of chilis and perhaps some pear? The tinfoil is for grilling out garlic on, as the grill is a wire mesh affair. Here’s the star performer. Lovely, red meat, with a nice marbling to it. I’ll have to do some looking into the Korean cattle breeds, as they do seem to have similarities to the Japanese beef, with a good dissemination of fat through the meat. The soup was the life saver. Warm fluid does wonders for getting your core temperature back up above freezer levels. This was a nice thing of beef stock and blood, with large chunks of blood in there to cheer me up. The kimchi looked pretty, a watery version, but I wasn’t about to eat anything cold. And so, with our bodies coming back to normal, we grilled merrily away, leaving Scud to do the duty. It’s good to be the elder. Fed and cultured, the only remaining task was to get our car. With the crush of traffic for the game earlier, all parking was taken. We’d gotten around this by paying for a car wash, and asking them to keep the car there until later, leaving the keys with them. We hadn’t factored in, however, that they might go home at some point. There we were, freezing again, pacing about in the back of a car wash/garage. Jason was finally able to track down a phone number for the guy, and while he was explaining the situation, I had an idea. Yup, keys on the front right tire. It’s good to see some things are universal. Next – Take Me Home, Country Road

Doddie caught a miss on my part. I'd forgotten to mention the corn. Gotta have corn niblets on a pizza.

Hmmmm...... Vodka (or everclear, which can give you a good working overproof option here) White rum (again, with the rums I'd go overproof) Dark rum Gin Vermouth (dry) Campari Bourbon Kahlua Benedectine Tequila Fitting everything into 10 bottles is tough. I'm assuming these can be really big bottles....

Here's a shot of both products for sale in Doddie's town (Janghowon). Bori on the bottom, and usuzu above.

March 28 – At Long Last, Pizza You’ll remember, from our trip to the Coex mall last time, how bedazzled I was by Korean pizza. The one that had me staring in awe for minutes down there was Mr. Pizza (and now his site – www.mrpizza.co.kr - has to run on internet explorer, rather than Safari or Firefox, so I can’t g o bacak and see what new things he has). And that may be the problem here. You see, after a late wake up (for obvious reasons) the idea of ordering in some pizza had its attractions. But, in deference to our host, we ordered what he wanted, which wasn’t that bad, but also wasn’t that outré. Pity. We had the offerings of Papa John’s. Mandatory bottle of Coke, which Scud was happy enough about. And some garlic bread on the side. As in Canada, there’s the usual freebie small pizza added in as part of the deal, a simple thing of cheese and pig meat. I think it was the cheese that Jason liked about Papa John’s. Admittedly, after having Pizza Hut in Cairo in the 80’s with béchamel sauce rather than cheese, that is an important factor. But this was the main attraction, about as “out there” as we could get with the menu (no squid, no fermented skate, no European cookies). A cheese ring crust, grilled chicken, potatoes, sweet potatoes, garlic (big pieces, too, which is nice) pickles, cherry tomatoes, and, for no apparent reason we coule fathom, some serious squeeze bottle action with ranch dressing. I always think of ranch dressing when I have pizza. Honestly, as far as flavour goes, it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t top tier, by any means, but it could easily compete with the standard offerings of the multi-nationals. However, while the bbq’d chicken kind of worked, the potato worked too well at what it was intended for, and that was bulk. One or two pieces and that was pretty much the end of us. Three strapping young fellows, and 2/3s of the pizza was left for upcoming breakfasts. Next time, I’m hitting up either Mr. Pizza or else Pizza School (who are just down the street). I bet they’ve got a pizza with the penis worms on top. Next: Goooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here's a detail of the second sake, at least what I could pull up from software. Any ideas? Note - edited for a bigger picture. What's the point of adding a detail that's too small to read?

The photo is rather dark and blurry, and I can only read these kanji: 生 nama (raw, fresh) 貯蔵 chozo (stored, storage) 辛口(?) karakuchi (dry) I did some googling, but I was unable to identify the brand. Do you have a better photo of the bottle? ← Sorry, I was at that point of the evening where the picture represents my brain. (But I'll see what photoshop can do tomorrow)

It should definitely looked "packed" rather than weak. Work with the brand you have until you feel comfortable. You've inspired me to get a few bottles into the fridge for tomorrow (but bori - barley - as I still prefer that to usuzucha).

We like them hot, or chilled, or room temperature. For me, on a blazing summer's day a large glass of cold bori cha is a very nice thing (although a Korean would tell you not to drink cold things in hot weather). Likewise, in the dead of winter, a hot glass of one of these grain teas fills your nose with the memories of Autumn.

Even in Japan, cheap sakes are now often come in paper cartons, as you may know, but I never want to see sake served like that in a restaurant! I searched for information about that sake (Tokubetu Junmai Shu, Shirayuki), and I found, surprisingly, that it is made from rice produced in Australia. Here is the official website of the brewery in English (but no mention of that particular sake) http://www.konishi.co.jp/html/e/index.html ← Thanks very much for that, Hiroyuki. Like you, I'm surprised that it's Australian rice. I was wondering if sakamai was being grown outside of Japan. Can you say anything about the other sake, the one that was in a bottle?

Yoonhi will put a good sized handful into a wire basket, and then put this into a big metal kettle (about 3 gallons) and then boil it for a bit. You could forego the wire basket, and just strain it later. (It's a good idea to strain it, otherwise you always get this subliminal feeling that there are dead bugs in there.) Then she sets it aside until cool, bottles it in our empty water bottles, and puts it in the fridge. Me, I prefer the roasted barely tea for a hot day (boricha).

Even it it wasn't very good, I feel bad that I missed this. I'll just have to go back. (Whose brand was this?)

Scud and I did the Mars bar thing once - when the wife was a long way away from the ktichen. It was a bonding moment.

March 27 (and a good chunk of March 28) Club Day. Those two words sum up the essence of this event. (With a very big nod to Philip Kennicott at the Washington Post. I’ll cheerfully misappropriate most of his text, as he says it best There is no question about “Club Day” to which “club day” isn’t the answer. “Where are we going?” “Club Day.” “What’s it about?” “Club Day.” “What are we going to do?” “Club Day.” Okay, you get the idea. Club Day is a monthly event in the Hondae area, just downhill from the gates of the university. Oh, yeah. The name. Universities always get abbreviated. This is a pain for first-time foreigners relying on the subways, where they play out the full name in English, but everyone refers to the short name (as in Japan). Hongdae = HongIk Daehakkyo, or HongIk University. If you remember, we were here before in the daytime, and it had looked like a fun part of town. Jason had mentioned Club Day back then when we’d told him where we’d been. This is one of the prime nightclub zones. So, what is Club Night. For around $20, you get access to something like 21 clubs in the area. That’s the draw for the youngsters, a general blowout of a night. But for older folk (like Jason), it’s more a night of people watching and being, well, a man of the crowd (now I’m stealing from Edgar Allan Poe). (check out www.theclubday.co.kr – there’s a little English on the site, but mainly hangul, but the map and phone numbers are all there). We were off to a good start. We’d found a place to park. Being a concerned Canadian, I queried Jason on the wisdom of driving to what had the makings of a very long night. “Don’t worry. This is Korea.” It was still relatively early, and so the strip was pretty quiet. Even the tarot card houses weren’t doing much business. When I say “the strip” I’m referring to the oddly open stretch that runs parallel to the university, about halfway down the hill. I wonder what the history of this is, as it almost looks like railway right of way or canal that was reclaimed? Jason spoke well of this little place on the left (downhill). This is an excellent spot for tuna fish cheese ramyeon, which is something that does wonders for your stomach after a long night. Plus they’ve got deokbokki, kimbap, and lots of other stuff for the very late night munchies. But right now we wanted something more rustic. We wanted dongdongju. So it was into Seonbigol and down the stairs to the basement. The dongdongju was good, but hardly up to the quality of the other two places we’d hit in the days running up to this. But the big disappointment was the budaechiggae. While it’s hard to tell from the picture, this was probably the worst budaechiggae we’ve had. The broth tasted like they’d just tossed in water and gochugaru, no stock at all. Way too thin, and we weren’t drunk enough to overlook the shortcomings (yet). And not only was the stock too thin, but we think they were using chicken franks. So, we had to have some more dongdongju to get over it. Now, as bad as the food was, the atmosphere was great. University students living the loud life. A lot of cries of “one shot”, and the slamming of soju bottles, and bowls of dongdongju and makkeoli being passed around. It was so much fun that, coming back from the washroom (up a different flight of stairs) I almost made it into the main room when someone threw a chair at me. Boy, if you want to see the temperature in a room come way down real fast, that was the place. They’d been trying to hit their friend, and I’d wandered into the field of fire. Luckily I caught the chair, but, man, were they mortified. There was some serious insa-ing being done. Me, I was fine, and told them not to worry, but it took awhile for the volume to come back up. So, seeing as my presence wasn’t lifting spirits (and the food was really bad) we moved on. Back on the street, the food vendors were starting to do a good trade. There was quite some interest in Mr. Wow’s foot longs….. And the ubiquitous deokbokki places were getting into the groove, piles of deep fried stuff still piping hot. There were solidly industrial places like this one above and plenty of the more traditional tented stalls. And then there was Mr. Bob, an “everything” place, with noodles, rice dishes, and a disturbing resemblance to Dan Aykroyd from his Conehead days. Crowds were beginning to mill, cell phones packed to ears while they tried to find their friends. If you’re looking for tickets for Club Day, don’t worry. Stand on the street for a few minutes, and someone will come up with passes for sale. Sometime around here, we lost Scud. He got that glazed “you guys are just going to wander around in a stupor for hours” look, and announced that he was heading for the subway. He was bored. What kind of teenager did I raise? Where are his values? When I was 18 (or close to it) I’d’ve been in my element here. Sheesh. Kids nowadays! Around now, we managed to contact part of the mob. Cat said she could meet us over at the Rocky Mountain Tavern, so we headed that way. And got lost. I’m not certain how, but we went completely past the RMT. It’s down the road on the university side, but it’s upstairs on the second floor. We’d gone past it, and then circled all the way back to the park. Finally, we did what no guys should do. We asked for directions. That had us close enough that we could get on the phone and have Cat talk us in. And we couldn’t even blame drinking. Rocky Mountain Tavern is another Canadian concern. A small group of expats here had opened the first one up on Itaewon as a place to drink, eat, and watch hockey. It turned out to be popular, and so they’ve been spreading out around town. A nice bar, with a reasonable selection of beers. They’d been supplying the micro-brew at the embassy do a few nights ago, and they had that on tap. (Don’t let the photos give the wrong impression, the place was jammed. I was just limiting my shots for the benefit of the management). I think one of the owners was having a birthday. Jason knew him. This had a good chunk of the Canadian crowd (the younger chunk) down here being boisterous. More on the Canadiana note, this is one of the few places in the country where you can order a Caesar, as they stock Clamato juice here, and know how to use it. This is the sort of bar you go to when you miss home, and you want to surround yourself with fellow Canucks and talk politics and stuff. Obviously, we were in the wrong place. Nice bar, but not good for our mood. Also, we hadn’t eaten for at least….oh…thirty minutes…… Underneath Gold 1/Gold II I spotted a Japanese place. I’d been reading an article on the izakaya of Seoul (somewhere) and was countering that with Jason’s advice that you couldn’t get good Japanese in this town. And I wanted sake. What I wasn’t expecting was a box of sake. My reaction was sort of what you’d expect if someone had plonked a box of wine on the table. That may be a biased view, of course, but I wasn’t in the best of moods over this. The edamame were fine, though! And no bean dogs popped their heads out to cause me concern. (Thanks, FlyingRat). There was yakitori available, so we ordered some mushrooms to start. Not great. The best way for me to explain it would be “empty”. It felt like it needed pig fat or something to fill it out in the mouth. We ordered something that looked like it had squealed at some point in its life. Bacon wrapped asparagus, if I remember correctly. This was a bit better, but, again, left me feeling dissatisfied. Still, it filled the immediate need for food, which sent us back out on the street. And there was a smell. The smell of kare rice. That sweet, turmeric smell of packaged roux. But we couldn’t quite place it. We followed our nose, to see where we ended up. Somewhere around here, we lost Cat. Down the street, back towards RMT, we wandered past more of the clubs, which were now starting to draw people in, although there were no lines (yet). Club Tool – Temple of Orgiastic Laical – keeping it underground since 2001 – seemed like a nice family place. I wonder what “laical” means? But we weren’t here to dance. We were here to eat and drink. All this walking had us feeling puckish, so we dropped into one of the places on the main street, back up the hill from RMT towards the university gates. This place was packed and the selection of food was solidly university price. Jason thought well of the soon tubu (soft tofu) here, so we ordered that, and some dongdongju to keep us cheerful. Soju could’ve been an option, but it seemed best to keep things light. We had a long night ahead of us, still. The soontubu was very good, and the right dish to sop up the stray bits of alcohol running through our system. Fresh enoki mushrooms, bits of chili, and some broccoli and egg to work up the broth, which was head and shoulders above the insipid thing we’d fed on at the start of the night. Jason was on the phone, and when we emerged from the restaurant we ran straight into his two friends. This called for a drink. We thought we’d found the source of the kare rice smell. But when we were seated we found that kare rice was not on the menu. However, by this point we’d already ordered sake and toast, and so we decided to stay on. They were a little concerned about this, as the place had the look of getting ready to close, but in Korea, if you’re loud enough, places stay open. We ordered the bacon salad. This came as 10 good sized pieces of crispy pig meat over a bed of lettuce and other greens. Then they came by and drizzled (from a certain height) the dressing of blue cheese. Not a bad salad, and I’m not a big salad fan. It was simple, but well executed. The sake (which I will point out did not come from a box here) actually went well with this, although I would’ve thought the blue cheese would’ve overpowered it. With this we had some yakisoba, just to starch us up a bit. And then, on a side board, I found okonomiyaki written up in hiragana. That had them grinding their teeth and looking pointedly at their watches, but we weren’t leaving without some okonomiyaki. Truthfully, it was just there, and a sad ending to the other two dishes that were very good. If I compare this to what I had in Osaka, there just isn’t much of a contest. Ejected from the premises (okay, they didn’t quite “eject” us, but there were some pretty pointed looks at their watches….man, it was only 1 or 2 a.m.!) we wandered out into the streets. And then Jason thought of lamb skewers. He knew a Chinese place back down on the strip where we’d started that had really good lamb. This place was very much a Western Chinese place (Xinkiang?), and the Korean was limited. So I, having all of three or four phrases in Putonghua, was a hit when I said “hello”, and then asked for a beer. And this place had no concerns about us being here at this hour. They were ready for business. The lamb came out on evil metal skewers. I say evil, as it’s far too easy to grab these like you would a wooden skewer. I can’t place the marinade, but it gave it a nice, orange appeal, and there was enough garlic to keep us Koreans happy. The centre of the table is a charcoal grill, and the skewers rest close over the heat. These were good, so, as we worked through the first batch, we ordered a second. For this, as the one batch is done, you move it up and away from the heat, and llow and drippings to add to what’s below. We probably spent an hour eating there. The staff were cheerful, and the food (all meat, except for the mandatory banchan) was excellent. And there was beer. Lamb and beer are a good early morning mix. But after awhile you start to flag. Which, of course, meant it was time for gin. One of Jason's friends had woken up, and suggested we meet at Gold I, so we went back there (remember, we'd eaten beneath it earlier in the evening). We decided it was time for a proper drink. Yeah, I don’t quite know how our brains were working, either. Admittedly, if we’re going to buy a bottle of gin to finish the night, Bombay Sapphire is a nice colour to go out on. And, I ask you, if you were at this point of an evening in Seoul, what would you have to eat with gin and tonics? Nachos just made so much sense. And it was a fine place to while away the sunrise, yacking about this, that, and the other, and Jason's friends trying to figure out how the heck I was an uncle. You have to love it. When you call for the bill, it’s about 6 a.m., the sun’s up, and the staff bring you out a fruit plate to see you off. It’s a hard, cruel world at that hour of the day. The air chill, the detritus of the night before piled up about the shivering trees…… But, remember how I was worried about driving home? I shouldn’t have worried. I’d forgotten about the “deri” – the switch hitters. For $20 or less, just call them up, and they’ll drive your car home (and hopefully not ding it up too bad). It was going to be a long day. (We never did find that kare rice.)

You asked for it.

Incheon itself is famous for its clams and Chinese food (the Korean variant) but the problem is that you have to go almost all the way back to Seoul to get to Incheon proper from the airport. I found the prices there way too high. The only positive note was that I was able to get geolbengi at the place up on the second (?) floor before you go through immigration. Does Subway do anything different, I wonder? Bulgoki? Kim chi? Kopchang subs!!!! I'd be really keen on a kopchang sub!

I shouldn't let this one get away. There's a Black garlic thread on eGullet, with links and more info. It popped into view today, so best to reference it while it's easy.

My buddy, Lee, took me to the Apollo for lunch when I was there a few years back, and made a show of scooping the eyeball out. I can't say it did much for me. But, I agree with you, Byran. For a place that's written up in all the guide books as a tourist site, the food is quite nice. I particularly liked their side dishes, one of which was baby octopus, pickled black and juicy. And it is fun to eat off of leaves. Edit - I just checked my notes, they were squids in a curry of their own ink. Not octopii.

Okay, the schedule is firming up, and official advertising is almost underway. From the last posting the following are still on: David Kinch, Manresa Restaurant, Los Gatos, California USA David Thompson, Nahm Thai Restaurant, London, UK Christine Manfield, Universal Café, Sydney, Australia Mohammed Fedal, Dar Moha, Marrakesh, Morocco Luke Dale-Roberts, La Colombe, Cape Town, South Africa Fulvio Siccardi, Ristorante Conti Roero, Monticello d’Alba, Italy Francois Payard, Payard Pastry, New York, USA Michael Ginor, Hudson Valley Foie Gras, USA To that list, we can now add: Graham Elliot Bowles from Graham Elliot in Chicago Carla Pernambuco from Carlota in Sao Paulo Kazumi Sawada from Banreki-Ryukodo in Tokyo (1* Michelin) There'll also be two market tours, one with David Thompson, and the other with Michael. The only down side on these is a 7:00 a.m. startup. I don't know if I can get up two days running at 7:00 a.m. As with previous years, the WGF will be supporting the Save A Child's Life From Aids charity, sponsored by the Thai Red Cross and HRH Princess Soamsawali. I should have the wines and sake details soon.

Laughed so hard, nearly sprayed coffee out of my nose.... My contribution - find a sushi boat and decorate it into a pirate's ship. Along with maki roll cannons and salmon roe cannonballs. Add a nori flag. Be sure to take pictures for us! ← And squeeze bottle skull and crossbones of mayonnaise. You have to have mayo. (and you could go off-sushi, and do an izakaya offering of "sparrow"(s).)

Bryan, Excellent eating! I'm bummed that I've been away and missed out on this, but I'm catching up now. The Thai eating hit a lot of the highlights, and your shots of the sai eua in Chiang Mai has me nostalgic for the North again. But it's Vietnam that's taken my interest, Hanoi in particular. This might almost be enough to get me back there again. I'm glad you got to cha ca. Were you eating upstairs, and does the floor still creak underfoot? You may have mapped out a trip for me here. If nothing else, I have to visit the graveyard of sparrows! Cheers, Peter