Peter Green

Where was I, again? Oh, yes….. March 27 – Footloose and Fancy Free It was a beautiful spring day in Seoul, the chill just crisping the air crystal, with not a hint of the dreaded dust that should be blowing in on the city at this time of the year. So, I took the boy out to see different choices in dining experiences. For example, private rooms. There’s nothing like a trip to the prison to perk up an adolescent on a Friday. Seodaemun was a fun stop for a boy. A chance to catch up on a bit of the Occupation, and to indulge in such fun activities as the Execution Experience (“not for pregnant women or small children”). I’ll leave you to read up on it for yourselves. But a good place to visit. Another good place to visit (in a lighter mood) is Chongngo, the area tucked up beside the palace, fingering up into the hills to the North of the city. It’s a pretty place, packed with cafés, ice cream parlours, antique shops, and beautiful restored hanok (the traditional Korean houses). And the hills give you great views into the hanok. These views ascertain that kimchi jars are still being put to good use. Coming down the hill onto the main drag, we found the mother ship of nomadic whicker salespeople. If it was woven, the back of this pick-up had it for sale. Kind of made me want to take up rice farming. Scud said “no”. As you would expect, all this walking put a hunger upon us. By the time we returned home, we were ready for dinner. But, first, a refreshing beverage. Scud was keeping himself amused finding and trying bizarre new flavours. Pineapple Fanta was a new one for him. With that and a few beers under our belts, we set off to meet our relatives. Unfortunately, getting to dinner was a series of mistakes. First mistake, we drove. The restaurant was over past the Olympic stadium – Jamshil – where we’d done the baseball jumbotron thing a few days earlier. When the Olympics ran, this place was nowhere. Now it’s packed, and “packed” in Korea means that every interstitial space has been filled in with a restaurant or bar or shoeshine box or something. The streets are confused, and nobody really knows where anything is. And “packed” means that traffic is bad. Here’s a general comment on getting to Korean restaurants. First, get a phone number. That way you can call them up and they’ll explain how to get there. Second mistake, we didn’t have a phone number. Third mistake, we didn’t have a taxi. Get a taxi, as there’s a faint chance he’ll be able to find the place over the phone, ‘cause we couldn’t. We drove and drove…..and then drove some more. We didn’t have the phone number for the place, just for our cousins. They tried to talk us in, but this newer part of town shares the same fractal qualities of much of new America (“Turn right at the cell phone store”…..”Which cell phone store? There are four on this block.”) If we had had a phone number, we could’ve used the GPS to find the place. Finally, we got back on a main street, and they drove over and escorted us. A wiser move would’ve been to have taken the underground, and have them pick us up at the station. Wisdom and I don’t mix well. However, that two hours of our lives was behind us. We were arrived, and the place was packed. We took our table, and made introductions. My cousin was actually my middle brother-in-law’s middle brother’s daughter, so we were quite close. It helped, too, that she took one look at me and said “I’ve seen you! You were on television at the baseball game!” I guess I stood out in the crowd. Her husband was older, about my age, and, at first a bit removed. But when I ordered soju, he immediately brightened up. “You drink soju?” From that point, especially having established that we were of the same year, we got along famously. Who says the Koreans are hard to approach? But enough of table manners. Let’s talk about the food. Duck. We were here for duck. They do it three ways. Slathered in gochujang (the red chili paste), smoked, or marinated in a black garlic sauce. The black garlic was an interesting thing. It was like a candy with a slight ginsengy flavour. It’s unclear if this had been smoked, or pickled, but it certainly tasted good (anyone know about this one?). The duck sizzled tripartitely on the grill, the fumes being sucked up into the vacuum. We luxuriated in the simple luxury of tossing on more garlic to roast. Little dishes of honey mustard were placed in front of each of us to dip the meat in. Of the three, I liked the smoked and the garlic marinade. There wasn’t anything wrong with the gochujang, but it does tend to run over all the other flavours, while the smoke was a gentle thing that brought out the game in the bird, and the black garlic was just, well, garlic. How can you not like garlic? I do like taking my meats wrapped in lettuce with the greens added in. But there’s nothing wrong with a bit of salad on the side, too. And soju helps. Wrapping the meal up was something different. This had sujebi in it – the flour noodles I associate with kalgetsu – knife noodles – but cut in medallions. My notes describe the broth as “creamy with a light grit of the flour” but, having checked with one of my sources here, I’m told that this is: ” The picture looks like sujebi. But what made that broth (or base) is dul-ke. (wild Sesame: it is a dark gray small round seed and it feels more gritty then sesame, and has a special flavour and smell). So, if you use that paste, the broth turns to a thick, juk-like base. So, what you had was a dul-ke sujubi (sujebi is just the flour dumpling)” Wrapping up, I noticed what I should have seen on entering. Korean wine. Chateau Mani – Appelation Wine Korea Controlee (shouldn’t that be “Coree”?), a Cambell Early Wine, a sweet red. According to the JoongAng Daily, Mani has chartered trains taking folks out to their winery in Yeongdong. So, for those of you in Koreea, what can you say of these wines? What have I missed? (You realize this'll just give me something else to obsess about?) There, enough for dinner. Now I have to get my wits about me for writing about losing them. Next: Club Night

They're both 80 proof. ← That seems awfully weak for 'shine. I generally associate illegal spirits with proofs up in the 150 to 190 range - everclear territory.

Todd, What's the proof on these products?

I'm glad you like the stuff Peter. Makkoli is quite possibly my favorite drink period. Love that stuff. I was so happy to find some of the korean liquor stores carry it here. I think there's a wide range of makkoli ranging from "micro brews" to larger factory operations. There's a couple different Il-Dong and Ee-Dong products available here. ← Thanks, Joon! Really, it just has such a (an?) unique flavour, with a great depth to it. The icebergs are also a plus. I think the next trip, I'll have to find a brewer and arrange for a tour. This is something that could be a lot of fun to make at home. It's one of those things of Korea I really miss. "Take me home...dong dong ju....to the bed, where I belong...."

March 27 –A Fine Beginning On the list of places I’d missed last time was this one – with a sign of Beodeu Namu in green over the wood fronting. Beodeu Namu is either their name, or a proclamation of the type of wood they grill with. This is a neighborhood place, but Jason hadn’t tried it yet. It’s just up the hill from Nambu Terminal (towards the park and the cultural centre), and then to the left (away from the cultural centre). It’s a high end beef place, but it had come on our radar for its reputation for breakfast. Our plan was for Scud and I to secure seats, and Jason could just wander over after he finished his work. Not only did HiSeoul say it was one of the “Best Korean Restaurants in Seoul”, but I was also assured that the food was safe and clean. I felt pretty good about this. The aunties ushered us into the dining room without question. It’s a given that if you’re here at this hour (around 10:50) you’re here for the breakfast. The place was about 2/3 full, and everyone was quietly, and patiently waiting as the banchan was wheeled about and the service began. A limited set of sides, but I did really like the marinated squid. Nothing wrong with the other stuff, but I can still feel that squid in my mouth. And here’s what all the fuss was about. Kalbi ttang. Good hunks of rib meat that had been simmering for a very, very long time, all the goodness coming out of the marrow and into the broth. If you want comfort food, just try a big bowl of simmered, tender meat. This just sucked off of the bone as you ate. But the real draw, of course, is the broth. Soft and full. The sort of thing that will carefully take the cobwebs away. Jason phoned to say he was on his way, and to order him a bowl. But when I tried to get another, we were told that they were sold out. It was 11:15. That was quick. I called Jason back, and gave him the bad news. Even he was impressed that a place could be cleaned out so quickly. And, speaking of cleaned out, it’s been mentioned that we don’t do enough shots in these food bits of the aftermath, so here’s the remnants once Scud had had his way. Everyone sort of left around the same time. We bowed and smiled our way out, and then I came to a dead stop at the entrance. In pride of place they were butchering a side of beef for the evening. And I forgot to get a shot, I was so impressed by that mass of meat out there, the blades of the three butchers flashing away. And so we began a good - but long - day.

My mistake! Sorry. But they are good looking crabs.

I'm with Doddie. In fact, the markets are the easiest place to get fed if you can't read Korean. Point at the critter, and it's yours. And once you get to the restaurant, if you just smile and bob your head, one of the aunties will happily take charge of your appetite. Mind you, if you can recognize some Korean food names, I do recommend learning to read Korean. It's one of the easiest written scripts to pick up. (As an alphabet, it's more approachable to us Westerners. Everyone say thanks to King Sejong). This means that, with a little struggle, you can mouth out names you'll recognize, and then you can point them out to the waitstaff. Just remember to smile and bow. ← Don't want to steal any thunder from your immensely helpful thread, but I'm happy to report we pulled it off successfully yesterday for lunch. In fact, we seem to have wound up in the exact same restaurant as you did. 10k won for 5 shrimp tempura from the hallway leading in to the restaurant, 63k won for a ~6 pound Russian King Crab which we purchased just outside it (the vendor won us over by somehow gesturing that she would get us to the restaurant which she pointed at). We then asked them to steam it up, added some soju and good times (We paid 13k won for 375ml of soju, a soda & cooking/serving the crab in the restaurant bringing the grand total to $69 for the meal). Here's a before picture of the little fella (the ashtray should give you a sense that maybe he wasn't so little after all!): Aaaaand the after: All the legs are buried in that photo, since they got stacked up first (one of the ladies thankfully offered to cut it all up for us): ← That looks good, Doddie! Go ahead and steal. I'm happy with more food.

Alan Koh had done a very nice green tea mousse back at WGF5 in 2004. I've tried that at home and it's simple and works well alongside things like basil meringues. And, of course, green tea ice cream goes well alongside a lot of things! (But that's not baking)

March 26 – Redemption Emotionally and psychically scarred by Boma’s change in hair colour, Scud and I fled South from Tongdaemun. My intention was to take solace in the streets of Rodeo in Apgujeong. Specifically, to find the s bacon wrapped hot dogs that had bedeviled my dreams since last we were here. I failed. It will seem a small thing, but that image of pork and sausage and chili has chased my dreams for 18 months. (Yes, it is a scary place inside my head) I freely admit, it was a guy thing. Guys don’t ask directions. So when we ascended from the underground, I figured my restaurant senses would lead me to Rodeo. I mean, things looked familiar……kind of. But all I managed was to take us down one interesting street after another. But Scud was losing patience in equal volume to his gaining an appetite. Given my opening quoteat the start of all this, I would have loved to have spent time in Peter, Paul, and Mary. It just would’ve been the right thing to do. But the boy was shooting daggers at me through his slitted eyes, so I knew better. Still, even lost it’s fun wandering through this part of town. Clubs, bars, and a hum. I should come back here. But, the end result was that we couldn’t find Rodeo. In the interest of inter-family harmony, I declared defeat, and had a taxi take us home. So, dejected from our loss….well, my loss, Scud didn’t care (heathen)…we debated our options. Luckily, Jason had the perfect answer. Chinese delivery. This is something I’d actually had on my mind for some time. I mean, for one, the front hall of the aparto had one table just dedicated to delivery menus. And every day when we came home, there was another flyer attached to our door. Plus, outside of one stop in Kyongju back in 1992, I really hadn’t done much with Korean-Chinese food. Which is a long winded way of saying we did “eat in”. Now, when we talk Chinese delivery, I’m a Vancouver boy. That means that my early childhood is formed around cardboard containers with Alcan tinfoil covers, the contents of which were aggressively Cantonese-Canadian, or C-squared (which in turn raises interesting questions of the Einstein’s theory as related to the the speed of light and Chinese delivery service in Kitsilano….but I digress). Anyways, the menu was quite different. First and foremost, there was jajyenmyen (or some transliteration close to that). When we did the Beijing Death March, we’d ended up at a place that did excellent jajyenmyen. At that point the connections of Northern China and Seoul had snapped into focus. This was a fine example of home delivery jajyenmyen. Thick, starchy, and just generally “gloopy”. Scud’s favourite was the deep fried pork, which you see behind and to the left. Tangsooyuk. If you remember (after all these weeks) we’d done this at Star Chef. There was no comparison. What we’d had there had stayed crisp, and was what I’ve seen a number of chefs do with old standard dishes – they’d found a way to make them as good as our memories. The underlying philosophy of “food porn”, if you would. This was slightly soggy, a bit greasy, but in its own way it was still a good dish. This was the “crack another beer and switch on Heroes” sort of food that you crave from time to time. Ugly, cheerful, and there when you want it. Plus, it helps if you’re hungry. And, in the back, is mafutofu, our favourite ugly Auntie. This has the gojuchang backdrop that I’m used to from home, and a slow burn vs the Chengdu full frontal (which then turns slow and nasty, and continues the fight). And this brings up an interesting question….the cost of things. We think now of Korea as a prosperous, highly technical society. But we just ordered six dishes, plus the freeby collection of kimchi and banchan, for not a lot of money. And if you remember back to Kitsilano days, this isn’t disposable junk. There’s someone (who doesn’t get nor expect a tip) who’s doing the to and fro from here, who’ll be back in a few hours to collect the dishes (metal cutlery, too). I’m sorry, but somewhere along the line, someone isn’t quite making minimum wage out of this. How can you have not only delivery, but pick up and delivery, for these costs? On the other hand, it meant we ate cheap and were full. This works for me! This and the rest of Season 3 of Heroes. Next – Hard Time

March 26 – At the Movies It was late. The sun was setting upon us, but we were within range of Tongdaemun again. In the first instance you know this to be the case by the plethora of Russian restaurants and Cyrillic script. Heck, you could be in Pataya….maybe not. Shopping for Yoonhi’s ajima welding visors was easy enough. I was looking for something I hadn’t had for awhile. Mandu. A stall spotted, I rolled up, pointed, and smiled. The one older lady behind the stall went to work, and the other shuffled about in an attempt to keep warm. Their work complete, they presented me with my goods……and then said, “10,000 won”. And then they broke down giggling. (Yes, it was quite a bit less) Good street mandu. Admittedly, the closest anything came here to meat may have been when a herd grazed overtop, but I don’t ask a lot out of my street food. It had a nice bit of bite, and they had vinegar and soy on the side to tang it up. Afterwards, Scud and I suffered a crisis of aesthetics. There was a movie playing here, but it was one we both knew would be awful. Really awful. Terribly, horribly, awful. So we grabbed two tickets, a huge box of popcorn, and some Pepsis and settled down as the only patrons to Duragoneubaruebolushyeon (DragonBall Evolution) It’s not just a Korean tourist theatre thing. There’s a certain joy to watching an awful film with a big box of buttered popcorn and no inhibitions about what you say. It’s like being part of the production crew on http://www.mst3kinfo.com/. Back on the food side, I didn’t notice any hot dogs on rotisseries in the lobby. Like the hot dog stands in airports thread http://forums.egullet.org/index.php?showto...dpost&p=1677468 cinema food needs its own thread. Anyways, Scud was happy again (at this stage of the vacation, his patience starts to wear thin). It is his trip, too. We stopped downstairs in the Coldstone Icecream place for something I knew he’d like (‘cause Serena liked this, too). Ice cream in a waffle cup. Whatever the Asian origins of the waffle, this is a good way to settle an abused digestive track. The two of us ate peaceably at this, the hum of Japanese tourist talk all around us. I wonder where the Russians go for ice cream? Next – Lost

Yoonhi looked at this with me. First comment: "use a toothpick to hold together the bacon on the mug" Second comment: "My cholesterol just went up 200 by looking at this" Peter's comment: "No booze? Maybe some Guinness?"

March 26 – Revenge of the Dongdongju Oh, man, there’s some evil stuff hiding in that dongdongju. It was late in the day before I was ambulatory, and the best idea I could come up with for an outing was to get off of the subway somewhere at random. At least I had a plan. We came up off of Ulchiro 3 Ga, blinking at the late afternoon like marmots after a Mongolian horse race. It was a Sunday, so the grim, concrete nature of downtown Seoul was overbearing. There were endless stores selling electrical equipment and plumbing, and nothing that would be of interest to most normal humans who didn’t have home renovations to undertake (from this list I must exempt Daniel Kalder, who’s Lost Cosmonaut is a paean to the under appreciated). There’s a lot of Seoul I like, a lot that’s been refurbished and gentrified; and other parts where the natural, organic growth of food alleys always give room for something of interest. It was like being in Nausica’s forests and breaking through the canopy to the sterile sands below. Working through the blight, with Tongdaemun our final target, we stumbled across Chungbu Market. You know, normally I’d be all aglow about a market. And maybe it was the time of day when we arrived here, but, well….. They sure have a lot of dried fish. Dried chilis, and dried shrimp. They’ve got a lot of rice, too. It’s dried as well. It was like we’d hit ground zero for dessication. Maybe drying out was a good thing, in my state? Let’s be kind, and put it down to the hour of the day. Maybe it’s the fact that this was a Sunday in an intensely urban setting. Maybe it was the clamouring headache and the glower of disapproval from the Boy. This was just not my idea of a lively market. Next – The Worst Movie Ever? P.S. - don't worry, my idea of a lively market is coming up soon.

I have a question now. Remember, these threads aren't intended to be a one-way street. I'm looking for feedback (and food). This question is particularly for the Korea based crowd. How is the production and distribution of dongdongju (and the good-quality makkeoli) handled? Is there actually a factory for this stuff, or is it being done restaurant by restaurant? Or is it one of those "micro-brew" items, where a distributed network of sites are producing traditional beverages? This is really bothering me. Plus, does anyone out there have a recipe for makkeoli or dongdongju? (Can you tell that I'm going through withdrawals?)

March 25 – General Mungbean Evening had fallen across Seoul, and we were stirring again. Tonight was a night for the rustic, for the cultural, for the historic. And that means makkeoli and dongdongju. As mentioned, for dongdongju, you look for a university. It’s the rule. And here, near to Seoul University’s new digs, we find almost the perfect incarnation of what a makkeolijib should look like. “But what,” you say, “does this have to do with Donghak and Mungbeens?” Ah, I’m glad you asked. Approaching this place (which is no mean feat, as we ended up parking about a kilometer away, and this was all uphill), you are presented with a shrine to Jeon Bongjun – “General Mungbean”, leader of the Donghak Rebellions. forces in their doomed revolution against corruption and the encroachment of foreign forces, philosophies, and products. (I use the term “doom” here, as their early successes ensured the fate they dreaded most). A facet of the Donghak movement (which goes back further than Jeon Bongjun’s time) was the use of poetry and song to spread the ideology. And General Mungbean is known as well for his verse as for his martial powers. (Yes, I am going somewhere with all of this) Given all this, is this bar an icon for the college crowd, or what? Independence, rebellion, idealism, literacy, and binge drinking, all the attributes we associate with the heady days of our youth. It gets even better. Low tables, poetry panels on the ceiling, and lighting so dark that you’d develop a squint if you spent too much time in here. With attribues like this, the place was packed. And dirt floors. This place has cultivated the expectations of tradition to a “T”. Reed matting shuffles beneath you as you sit. I’m impressed. I could see myself in a setting like this, plotting the overthrow of corrupt official, installing the rule of the morally indignant, and drinking heavily! There are probably a few things in there that won’t work well together……Still, this is the sort of atmosphere that the spirit thrives on. There was a chain I recall, with an outlet in Kuala Lumpur (amongst other places), that focused on recreating scenes from The Water Margin. I know I’m switching countries here, but I feel a lot more like part of Song Jiang’s mob sitting here with the smell of reed matting and dirt in my nose, a solid wooden table to pound on, and the prospect of good, solid food. (Come to think of it, the 108 Heroes ended tragically as well, for all of their fighting the good fight). The drink comes in bowls, crystals of ice floating in the thick fluid. Proper drink should be served in bowls with a ladle (I should try this with an Australian shiraz some time). We started with a crowd of six, with more people joining in as we progressed. This is good, as it means that I, as the eldest (by a long way) never have to worry about pouring for myself. Our first cheon was haemulcheon, with bits of octopus and squid worked in with the batter and kimchi. A dipping sauce of soy and vinegar, topped with toasted sesame seeds. Then a pacheon (green onion). This is one of my favourite cheons, packed with spring onion, the batter just holding things together. Nurungji was in the dongdongju here, too. You could smell that Rice Crispy aroma in there – muted by the temperature. Food and drink. Lots of both. Here’s another delight. Noodles to be mixed up fresh with chilis, vegetables, sesame, and little marinated snails from the rice paddies. I like dishes like this. They give people a chance to demonstrate their motor skills under the influence of dongdongju. (Note: don’t bring a lot of white shirts to Korea). And another fine dish it was. It’s hard to see the snails, but they gave a nice rubbery chew as you ate your way through this. (And, yes, it was hot) Another architectural note – low ceilings. This way they can fit in two levels of seating. (We actually wanted to eat in an upper bunk, but they took a look at Scud and I, double checked their support beams, and told us to take a floor booth.) I like eating in Korean bars. Pork. This was first steamed, and then fired up with chilies and green onion, liberally dashed with sesame. (Scud did confide in me that he was tired of “everything coming out red”) I could do a whole 12 month calendar with shots of dongdongju. More people arrived (with a few choice words said about finding this place), and so we ordered more cheon, fire-red from the kim chi and (I suspect) gochugaru. What a perfect place. That smell of soil in your nose, the creak of the upper floors, the reassuring chunk of your fist on solid wood, and the laughter of the young. Or, at least “younger”. This is the sort of place I can spend a lot of time in. Next: A very late morning

Interlude Coming off of one meal, Jason was working the phones to set up the crowd for the next one. It’s good to have a hobby. Back home, with the prospect of a lazy afternoon ahead of us, we settle down to computers and television. The traditional Korean day-at-home. I think Scud is getting a little too complacent in anticipating his father’s needs. Next: General Mungbean

Kingyo Izakaya

Hiroyuki! I missed you, too, somehow! I'm sorry. Comparing tai-yaki to bung-eo is tough, as I have lmited data upon which to base a comparison. In Japan, the only time I had them was at the temple fair in Kyoto at To-ji. Then they were already cooked, and suffered from the lack of napalmishness (which really should be a word). In Korea, I've been lucky to have them fresh from the griddle, but I've noticed in Korea that people generally line up and wait for them to be ready, and refuse anything already out of the waffle iron. Note - some sake coming in a couple of more on-line-day's worth of posts! I'll need your help!

Sorry, Pan, I missed this somehow. Yes, in this day and age, everything is tidy. Even the allyways. Try and leave litter somewhere, and you'll probably be lynched. Korea follows the "good for the many" rule, and so we've seen so many things tidied up over that last two decades. But, wait until we get to Club Night. Then we'll get messy.

Thanks, Steven, for this (especially the links). It takes me back to some really bad mornings in Denmark. I can't remember the nights.

March 25 – Old Haunts Scud spent his morning job-shadowing Jason over at the studio. Part of modern high school student life consists of gathering “life experience credits” in order to graduate. When I was young, we just worked at restaurants for below minimum wage so we could have money to spend on food and comics. They had wood-burning TVs back then, too. With the two young ‘uns back home, we headed out for lunch. This was to be a reprise, mainly for Scud’s sake. The mujinjangme-ungalbi onduljib charimsang – “The Incredibly spicy rib heated floor house prepared table.” Yes, I brought Scud here for the name. And the beef is good, too Down the stairs again, kick off our shoes, and nestle up to the low tables. I was trying to see if any of the notes had changed in the last 18 months. The TV anchors all looked the same. It was the same drill as last time. One dish. Beef ribs in a hot stew. We went with hot. That’s hot enough. Last time we went as far as hot, and that was rough enough. I’ll crib some of my text from the last visit, in case you didn’t want to hit that link back there: ” The meat had been marinated in the spice, and then partially cooked. The idea now was to bring everything together in the table-top boil – ribs, leeks, chilis, more chilis, still more chilis, and some potatoes that were submerged under there somewhere.” The fish were a nice addition to the usual suspects on the banchan buffet. They’d been lightly fired with a bit of chili to perk them up. Nice long strips of maeulchi. (I’ve probably spelt that wrong, but Yoonhi’s not here). And cole slaw. I wonder….do they serve cole slaw regularly at Korean restaurants in North America? I wonder what they’d say if I asked for some? The kungnamul in broth was the same, though, and is the emergency switch for the heat in the meat here. (Warning: if you’re going to eat a lot of pickled garlic during a meal, don’t plan on sleeping in the same room as someone else that night. I like garlic, but this crawls out of you later on). As an “old haunt”, there have to be spirits about, so we were on the soju for lunch. Oh, another word to the wise. If your son and nephew are out, don’t leave the purchase of transit tokens up to them. He still has to pay for this. The little girl is bad enough, but that hair……. It was an item on the menu I’d forgotten about. If you come here, and bring your mother-in-law, her meal is free. I should’ve frizzed Scud’s hair and put him in stretch pants as retribution. Aside: first thing to do in Korea is buy a transit token stoked with cash. This is your friend. After you buy this, you no longer suffer at ticket machines trying to decipher fares while people gnash their teeth behind you, nor do you tie up the human ticket booth, where you embarrass people with your lack of Korean. The busses take these, too, as do many of the taxis now. If you’re visiting Seoul, get one. Just don’t get this one (if you’re a guy). Scud, as usual, was on Pepsi (it must be a Korean drink, as it has the Taeguk – yin yagn – on it…or something close, according to the film Attack the Gas Station. The food was just as evil as last time, but Scud did us proud and didn’t resort to washing it off in the kungnamul like his mom did. This dish is a good example of “Korean hot”. “Sneaky”, in contrast to the the Thai “slap you across the face” hot. At first you think “Eh, that’s not so bad.” But it keeps on building, and building, and building, until at the end you’re just relishing the pain. Maybe that explains Park ChanWook’s films? Next: Heaven is a Place

March 24 – Post Game Syndrome Following on the baseball debacle, we headed out in search of food. At least Jason and I did. Scud opted for a return to the apartment, and the food court next door. Jason had a place he wanted to check out. This was a “chicken galbi” place with an outlet at Coex where he’d eaten. Their new location was a lot closer to home, and Jason wanted to give it a try, having enjoyed his prior meal. (The group’s website is www.miraekoreakig.co.kr if you want to check it out). Unfortunately, here’s a case of a meal gone awry. It really is unfortunate, as Yoonhi is looking over my shoulder at the dishes they offer (like hemyongttakjjim and Andong jjimdak) and going “that looks really good”. Inside, things did look very good. Sharp, slick, shiny extractor fans, very upscale. There’s just one thing missing….. There were no burners. It seems that we were here just too early. They’d done a soft opening, but without the burners installed. The waitress was very apologetic. This meant that we were reliant upon the old fall-back, the gas canister hot plate. Not a good substitute for a full-on Korean bbq in terms of cooking power, and, frankly, I get a little nervous with one of those things ignited in front of me. Meanwhile, another of Jason’s friends – T from Chicago – was in the neighborhood, so he joined us so we could make more out of the meal, and dissect the game. Food was what I have written down as ddeok galbi…..yeah, that doesn’t work well as a name – rice cake ribs. But it was an attractive collection of vegetables, potato, chilies, mushrooms, cabbage, gaenip, and the usual evil red sauce that simmers in the plate. It looked more to me like ddeokbokki. And, like our meal on Ddeokbokki Street last trip, we ordered stuff to add in. The first alien entry was a plate of prawns. Our waitress happily stirred and stirred. She stirred for a very long time, as the heat was nowhere near sufficient. But finally, it was cooked, and we could start eating. By now we were hungry. We shredded up some fresh greens and tossed them on top for colour. I wouldn’t complain about the flavour. I think our general discontent lay about the amount of time it took to cook. When you have the munchies, you don’t want to be waiting too long. After eating our way through it for a bit, Jason called for some ramen to augment the deok. Yes, this was turning into another starch fest. After about an hour or so, we were ready to finish off, so it came down to bokkumbap. Reasonably well executed, and a good finish, in case we hadn’t had quite enough starch yet. Not bad, and the service was very pleasant. The lack of proper flame wasn’t the staff’s problem, and I should think that’s been corrected by now. We were full, and the soju was sitting well on the beers from earlier. It looked like it was shaping up to be a quiet evening of watching TV and playing video games. As a final note, we considered Butterfinger Pancakes, just nearby. All I can say is, I hope they have clean floors. Next: Bring Your Mother-In-Law

March 24 – 15,000 People Watch a Jumbotron I’ll post somewhere else on Korean sports culture, and what it means if you’re the only foreigner in the stadium. The key point to focus on here, is what to eat at a ball game. For most of us, the hot dog is the icon of baseball dining. Perhaps a bag of nachos, or even a cold beer. At least we have the beer in common. Approaching the stadium, the first thing you notice (well, at least that I notice) are the stands selling dried fish and dried squid…..along with cold beer. Of course, there are some of the usual suspects about, but they didn’t seem to be doing a thriving business (still, everyone was on their way inside the stadium). (I'm confused. "One shot" is a term tied in with soju culture. How did it get associated with soft ice cream at Burger King?) We settled down for the heartbreak with bags of stuff that seemed to be fried prawn parts, and a large number of 500ml (o-baek) cans of Hite. Interestingly, we seemed to be the only ones with food and beer. This may be one of the only times I’ve ever seen so many Koreans not eating and drinking for so long. Many, many beers, and a disappointing finish later (5-3) we finally extricated ourselves from the press and headed for lunch. Next: Mo’ Chicken

I went back and took a another shot at the sweet and sour fish. I'm very fond of the use of green mango here for the sour part. An import change I wanted to do was try using smaller fish. My frying of the large fish is....well....challenging for those who have to clean up after me. And the tilapia that have been available are extremely plump, lately. Another move was to add in some capsicum, both for colour and for a bit of crunch. The result was good, and handy as this would allow me to have a separate fish for each guest. I'll have to go and look at some of the salads for this weekend. The watermelon is in season here! (I should see if I can find a copy of the Brissenden book to leaf through. That's a good list of recipes, and I wonder what the other sections are like)

March 24 – The Breakfast of (Almost) Champions It was a minor miracle. We were awake, and it wasn’t yet past noon. But there was purpose to this madness. We’d been following the World Baseball Classic the last week, and the finals were on today, with the age old rivalry between Korea and Japan having once again reared its scaly head. And we were heading out to Jamshil stadium to watch the Los Angeles match with thousands of other Koreans. All of that is a long-winded way of explaining why your’re catching us eating breakfast. We stayed close. Just down the hill west from Banpo Station. Our initial plan was to hit up a budaechigae place that Jason likes – General Pak’s Budaechigae – but it was closed. There was a Pizza School, but Jason shuddered at that idea. And then just a couple of doors down, there was a fine example of the non-descript kimbap joint. Two ajimas running the place, a kimbap station at the window, papers on the walls announcing what else there was, big cans of Ottogi tuna piled up, and an air that said “enjoy your food and get out quick”. I like these places. A fine table setting of takuan, marinaded ggenip, pechu kimchi, and a nice wet kimchi with something like pinenuts (?) in it. Scud had yugaejang, hunks of meat and ferns (kosari) in a biting broth. I’m a big fan of kosari. Yoonhi has a connection with some of the grannies that harvest in Vancouver’s parks, and so we keep a stock of this on hand back home (it dries very well). And Jason had a big bowl of raboggi – ramen in there along with the deok. I consider this just an excuse to eat starch, as if you need an excuse. And for myself, I had a big, sizzling bowl of denjang chigae. Fermented soybean, chilis, tofu, and more chilis. I was feeling quite civilized. Even my head was feeling better (makkeoli nights can catch up with you). I was ready for sports. Little did I know. Next: Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Correction to the earlier March 23 posting. Yoonhi just had a look at this post, and her immediate reaction was "what are you talking about?" So scrub the "chicken the way you like it". Anyone want to jump in with the proper translation?