Korea - Land of the Morning Calm

[Peter Green]

innard update

First,though, dongdongju has a higher alcohol content than makkoli. That's according to the brothers-in-law. Plus, the dongdongju is much smoother, according to Yoonhi.

Now for the Kopchang update

Okay, we have the authoritative guide on innards

the yang is the first stomach.

The second stomach is the peol jib "honeycomb" or "bee house" (which we often see in dim sum, straying from the Korean theme).

the kopchang itself is the intestine. Long, tubular, and just crying to be stuffed with something.

The third stomach, the bits we eat raw, are called cheon ip, which Yoonhi refers to as "1000 leaves" but that isn't necessarily what the Chinese characters say. This is what we refer to as "towels" when we have it at dimsum

The magchang was first described as "just right by the rectum", but we figure now it's the fourth and final stomach of the cow. Really, the kopchang would come after the stomachs.

There, you all feel better now, don't you?

Note - edited for dyslexia

Edited October 30, 2007 by Peter Green (log)

[Peter Green]

PENIS WORMS - had to fit that in somewhere

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Honestly, that would be the most excellent title for your next blogging.

[Peter Green]

Nighthawks at the Diner

No, we didn’t go to the casino in the Seorak Park Hotel. It didn’t quite look like it was open, anyways.

Instead, we headed back into Sokcho to check out the hot springs.

We should have cottoned on when the motel owner asked why we weren’t bringing any towels.

We drove back towards Sokcho in search of the famous hotsprings of the East Coast. We found a place just outside of town, and, aftern navigating the parking lot to the front entrance, past the three or four restaurants, we came into the main lobby.

Okay. I am not a spa sort of guy. It just doesn’t appeal to me. I tried a spa once with Yoonhi in Chiang Mai. It hurt for a week.

It was all pretty large and vacant looking. They’d said there was a restaurant with beer, so I offered to go sit in there with my laptop while the other three had their fun. But the place had one major problem.

No one was working there.

I moved to the lobby café, as there was another table already setup there, and they were drinking. In this manner I snagged the concierge/waiter as he rushed by to bring more soju.

“Saeng maekju jusaeyo!”

I am fully functional in Korean when it matters.

For this I got a large glass (about a quart) of draught Hite. I nursed that and wrote for ages (about 15 minutes) and then called in another.

After about 90 minutes (how many beers was that?) the crowd showed back up at my table.

What they had enjoyed that evening was not a spa. It was a mogyogtang, a bathhouse. Mogyog means “bath” and tang is “tub”. The word is probably different in the Chinese characters, but it’s interesting that it’s the same word as for “soup”.

Hanibal Lecter would be interested in this.

Now, having checked with older sister, this is a hot spring. This is how the Koreans wanted their hot springs, just like a bathhouse, but with hot spring water.

Ttang actually means (older sister again) “steaming hot liquid”.

Now, that raises the issue of what is a guk and what is a ttang (and what is a chigae).

A ttang is something that takes ages to make, as the stock needs ages to break down and get to the stage it needs to be at. Whereas a guk is something that can be worked up pretty quick. For instance, a ddeok guk is a thing you can enjoy in a matter of a few minutes (or half an hour) after it’s been brought to a boil. For a ttang, figure on four or five hours of simmering.

Now a chigae, like soontubu or kimchi chigae, is more savoury, and eaten in smaller amounts. It’ll be more salty.

Traditionally, with ttang or guk, everyone gets their own bowl, whereas with chigae everyone dips into the common bowl.

Yoonhi gave me the story on the experience. Serena was scandalized at first. She got into the ladies’ changing room with her mom, started getting ready to shift into her bathing suit, and then shrieked “Everyone’s naked!”

At this point she tried to cover herself up with two hand towels. You can do it at that age.

Serena’s ineherent shyness (of which I fully approve) lasted up to the moment that she found another kid her age in the baths, at which point she kicked off and the two of them were “all over the place”.

As an aside, can anyone out there recommend a good convent school? I’ll need it in about 4 years.

The “bring your own” comment haunted them. Everyone else had shown up with towels (which you could get there) and their own loufas and scrubbers and stuff (which you couldn’t).

Still, after the knee killing descent from the hill, and given that this was our only exercise outside of walking from bar to restaurant that we’d had all week that the family had had, the baths felt pretty good.

I felt really bad about missing out…..oh, yeah.

Like I say, I have my own set of priorities.

But, everyone relaxed, either with bath or beer, it was time for dinner.

We drove into Sokcho looking for gamchattang – potato soup, but the pork rib is the important part.

Okay, for this sort of stuff, what you’re looking for is a 24 hour joint. If a restaurant is really, really good, then they can draw enough business to keep going all day and night long. Otherwise, they go home and sleep like normal people.

The restaurants proudly put their signs up with haejangguk “hangover soup”.

We cruised Sokcho for about a quarter of an hour, looking for someplace seedy enough to be good. Finally, on the outskirts, we lucked out.

(Aside: something I regret, I saw a place in the distance with pictures of pheasant. We never had that on the trip, and now I regret that.)

I haven’t talked about cutlery. Every place, except for the one seafood joint we’d done for crab, would put out a long plastic container with metal chopsticks and spoons.

I think Korea may be unique in using metal chopsticks. It’s an interesting point. The metal cleans well, and doesn’t carry bacteria (although I might think that the wood cutting board vs bacteria argument might also be applicable), but there’s a tradtion that goes back a long way.

Traditionally, the Koreans used silver chopsticks. Everyone got a set for their first birthday. However, this set won’t last until you get married, at which time you get another set (as the first

First, silver cutlery is way cool. But, I do admit I have a silver fetish (remind me to show the sterling next time I do a blog).

Second, silver shows up a number of traditional poisons. In contact with sulfides and other oxidants, the silver will go black just like that.

Finally, as I found in Mongolia, if you pack metal chopsticks, people back up really fast when you pull them out.

Something different in this place was the handling of the kimchi.

It came out in big brown bowls, but we were instructed not to eat from the bowls, but rather to cut what we needed, and then remove that to separate plates. Kimchi buffet!

Also, the gochu (chilies) here, were hot. I’d gotten cocky and had started taken their mildness for granted, immediately grabbing one and dipping it in the ddaenjang as something you’d unconsciously chomp on between dishes.

This stuff bit. It was like a Thai chili, all meanness and spite (and fun to be around). Jason and I both backed up a bit, and then grabbed more (Yoonhi is far more sane than either of us).

Anyways, along with the usual few bottles of soju, we had to order kamcha ttang.

The soup is really about pork ribs. Pork ribs in a beautifully rendered broth, topped with ggae nip, tobikos, gochugaru, and a sprinkling of what looked like parmesan cheese, but was actually powdered yellow lentils.

The pork itself is precooked, similar to how some people do bbq’d ribs. The point of the potatoes is to remove some of the “pork smell” (why? It’s good!), which in turn act as little sponges of pork essence.

We also ordered some sol lang tang for Serena (and me). This is a beef stock that’s been worked down for a few days, drawing an awe-inspiring milkyness out of the bones.

It’s hard to describe this. In the West, we’re so used to demiglace and other reduced stocks (well, at least in my house). In the East, it’s all about broths. The individual essence of the material itself, as opposed as to what you can do in the mix.

Having said that, the ttang broke down most excellently, pushing the fat from the ribs into the broth alongside the chilies and the starch from the potatoes.

I mean, just look at the fat glistening like sweat on my fat! Plus, fresh, crisp bean sprouts to contrast with crunch against the starchiness of the pork-laden potatoes.

And, once we’d chewed and gnawed our way through the ribs and broth, it was time for some bokkumbap. We’d gone days without bokkuming anything.

There, don’t you feel better now?

After killing an appropriate number of soju bottles we hit the road, with Jason doing the driving (he, as always, was on designated driver duty).

When we got back to the Zone C, we ditched the car, and we did a quick walkthrough in the village.

The walkthrough was needed to stock up on stuff for the evening (Jason was the designated driver, after all).

First we’d found some injolmi to snack on. Rice cake (ddeok) with sweet soy bean powder on it.

This, with a good two litre jug of bad beer is a fine excuse for sitting around on the ondul.

We should’ve had some cards. We could’ve played hatto ( a traditional card game Korean women play to intimidate men).

We’d found a couple of bottles in town. The bottles looked interesting, but we couldn’t vouch for the internals.

The mushroom wine looked….well…country. Once we tried it, we all agreed. We just couldn’t figure out which country would taste that bad.

And the other bottle I’d spotted behind the cashier as we walked by the shop. I raced in, and pointed out the bottle.

Another guy, with his girl, spotted what I was buying, and, by the miracle of guyliness, I understood perfectly what he was saying in Korean:

“Hey! Look at that!”

Jason translated the shopkeeper for me after. The old guy took a deep breath, took my money, and said, “Yeah….I don’t even know how it’s legal for them to sell something like this.”

Next: [ b] the perfect breakfast

Note - edited for a stutter

Edited October 30, 2007 by Peter Green (log)

[Peter the eater]

“Want to try some?”

“Maybe another time.”

PG, thank you for that compelling image.

I knew there was a doozie coming, and you did not disappoint. I must have missed the tarantulas, was there a picture? If so please advise, I am starting a collection of extreme food pictures from eGullet. So far I have this one (loaned to me from stevarino for my eGfoodblog) and this one from the gifted Anna Friedman Herlihy.

[seisei]

Also, the gochu (chilies) here, were hot.  I’d gotten cocky and had started taken their mildness for granted, immediately grabbing one and dipping it in the ddaenjang as something you’d unconsciously chomp on between dishes.

This stuff bit.  It was like a Thai chili, all meanness and spite (and fun to be around).  Jason and I both backed up a bit, and then grabbed more (Yoonhi is far more sane than either of us).

Peter, my mother always says you can spot a spicy Korean chili by sight--some inexplicable combination of stubbiness, curvature, and depth of it's green color. I've never gotten this technique down, but those chilis struck me as evil-looking!

[Peter Green]

“Want to try some?”

“Maybe another time.”

PG, thank you for that compelling image.

I knew there was a doozie coming, and you did not disappoint. I must have missed the tarantulas, was there a picture? If so please advise, I am starting a collection of extreme food pictures from eGullet. So far I have this one (loaned to me from stevarino for my eGfoodblog) and this one from the gifted Anna Friedman Herlihy.

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Peter,

Good news and bad news on the tarantula.

The good news is you haven't missed the posting here in eGullet

The bad news is that it was something I had at the roadside in Cambodia back in '99, and I wasn't as obsessive about photos then.

I should go through my old video tape.........

[nakji]

Also, the gochu (chilies) here, were hot.  I’d gotten cocky and had started taken their mildness for granted, immediately grabbing one and dipping it in the ddaenjang as something you’d unconsciously chomp on between dishes.

My first day in Korea, my boss took us for bulgogi. There were chilis on the green plate, and Mrs. Lee encouraged me to try one. "Don't worry - they're mild!" Since I was fairly comfortable with spicy food in general, I took a big ol' bite out of one.

There was not enough cider in that shop to take away the burn. I felt I had let down all foreigners in Korea by wimping out on a "mild" chili. Then Mrs. Lee tried one herself and had a similar reaction. I felt much relieved.

[insomniac]

Anyways, along with the usual few bottles of soju, we had to order kamcha ttang.

Peter, the kamcha ttang looked so delicious I immediately scoured the internet for a recipe....alas, none, could you point me to a source?? ...actually the method/ingredients would do ....hmmm isn't that a recipe

ps. my husb. is enjoying your Korea, he pointed out that there weren't many comments, despite the large readership and mused that it probably was because most lurkers were thinking to themselves, 'I could NEVER eat that' (esp the liver and guts )

pps. Do you think not speaking Korean would be a handicap on a trip like yours? It is dawning on us that our Korean visits were woefully inadequate (except, typically, for the alcohol bits)

[Domestic Goddess]

Peter - I had the same reaction to the spa/public bath (Like Serena). The first year that we moved to Korea, I went out with my kids to find PC Bang (an internet cafe) to email updates to my family. By some gross miscalculation or maybe my really poor understanding of the korean directions, we ended going to the 3rd floor of this building. The elevator door opened up to a cashier window which was directly beside the spa pools. Nekkid ladies (of various sizes and ages) walked nonchalently back and forth why I desperately tried to cover my sons' eyes (Billy was 3 and Jai 9). We hurried back to the elevator and went to a McDonald's instead. I told the story to my husband who kept laughing when I wailed over and over again "They're all naked!".

Insomniac - here's the recipe for Kamja Tang from my korean friend

2 kilos of pork bones (pref. the ribs and spine)

enough water to cover the bones in a pot

4 tbsp. of salt (you can halve this if you like)

Bring the water to a boil. When it first starts boiling, throw out all the water and put enough water to cover the bones again. Boil the bones until the remaining meat is about to fall off. Skim the fat off the broth. Set the broth aside.

6 tbsp of gochujang

12 peeled potatoes

1 red pepper, seeded and cut with a bias cut

2 stalks of leeks, roughly chopped

1 onion, cut in thick round slices

various greens (sesame leaves, chinese cabbage, etc.)

Bean sprouts.

Place some of the soup broth stock into a large deep dish wok. Place the bones in the center of the wok. Add the gochujang on top of the ribs, arrange the potatoes, red pepper, leeks, onions around the bones. four or five bone pieces (per person) into the center. Finish topping with bean sprouts around the sides. Fill with broth until it is about an inch below the brim. The vegetables will be in a rounded heap above the rim. Don't worry it will boil down and absorb the broth.

Place over a gas burner (camp stove) set at the table. Remember that the meat is already pre-cooked so the preparation at the table is mainly "melting" the vegetables into the broth to create a vegetable stew mix. Turn off the burner and enjoy picking the bones and slurping the spicy redhot soup.

After all the bones have been picked clean, strain the vegetable broth from the wok into a large bowl. Wipe the wok clean.

A: Add cooked rice to the wok. Turn on the burner again and pour the strained vegetable broth back in until it is at the top of the rice. Add sesame seed oil. Turn on the heat and bring to a boil. Set this aside as one side dish.

B: Clean the wok. Add remaining strained soup broth to wok and add clear rice noodles. (If necessary add more of pig broth.) Allow to boil until all the noodles are tender. This is a soup dish.

There you go, kamja tang 3 ways... of course, you can skip steps A and B and just eat rice with your kamja tang while it is boiling happily away on the stove.

[milgwimper]

Nighthawks at the Diner

Anyways, along with the usual few bottles of soju, we had to order kamcha ttang. 

The soup is really about pork ribs.  Pork ribs in a beautifully rendered broth, topped with ggae nip, tobikos, gochugaru, and a sprinkling of what looked like parmesan cheese, but was actually powdered yellow lentils.

The pork itself is precooked, similar to how some people do bbq’d ribs.  The point of the potatoes is to remove some of the “pork smell” (why? It’s good!), which in turn act as little sponges of pork essence. 

We also ordered some sol lang tang for Serena (and me).  This is a beef stock that’s been worked down for a few days, drawing an awe-inspiring milkyness out of the bones.

It’s hard to describe this.  In the West, we’re so used to demiglace and other reduced stocks (well, at least in my house).  In the East, it’s all about broths.  The individual essence of the material itself, as opposed as to what you can do in the mix.

Having said that, the ttang broke down most excellently, pushing the fat from the ribs into the broth alongside the chilies and the starch from the potatoes.

I mean, just look at the fat glistening like sweat on my fat!   Plus, fresh, crisp bean sprouts to contrast with crunch against the starchiness of the pork-laden potatoes.

Next: [ b] the perfect breakfast

Note - edited for a stutter

←

AHH Kamja Tang, and seolantang two fo my favourite soups. Okay I like a lot of korean food but I love these two especially during the winter. Can I use the beautiful picture of the Kamjatang as my desktop wallpaper? It might have the vy with Doddie's picture of her rice...

Doddie Thanks for the kamja tang recipe. Now the interesting prospect of asking for pork neck bones here in germany!

Hmmm I wonder if part of the reason for not posting is all the lurkers don't know what to say or don't have an egullet account that allows them to post? Also I notice most posts seem to get more comments if it is located in the cooking forum or the kitchen and traditions forum. I know I lurk on some of the other posts, although I do try to post something, but sometimes you just don't know what to say other than. "Why isn't there a drool icon?" Or as Insomniac's husband said that others can't imagine eating the pictured food.

Insomniac

I think you can get a lot of fun and eating done with out learning the language but learning how to read a little bit helps, open a lot more doors, and if you can muddle through some korean it opens a lot more, but the best way sometimes is to have a korean friend or relative.

Although I had a friend who couldn't speak or read a lick and she ended up doing mighty fine. Even eating the "peeled penis", but most of the time she said not knowing anything made it a very big surprise at what she unintentionally recieved.

Edited to correct spelling

Edited October 31, 2007 by milgwimper (log)

[Peter Green]

Doddie, thanks very much for putting up the gamchattang recipe. I couldn't find it in my English language books, and was procrastinating about trying to work through the Korean ones.

Nakji,

Were you caught out by "cider" like I was? I was expecting an alcoholic drink like a Strongbow or such. I wasn't expecting Sprite.

Insomniac,

The language thing can be a bit of a barrier, but the Koreans are generally very gracious to tourists and will go out of their way to try and help.

Also, with so many kids having done homestays in Canada and Australia (and elsewhere) the level of English is improving. Often you can get by okay if you're willing to work in print, rather than verbally.

However, one problem you will have goes back to the graciousness. Quite often they're going to decide what is or isn't appropriate for you, and you may not be able to get the truly authentic hit you're looking for (but this goes for China and Thailand and lots of places).

Best bet (outside of doing a crash course in Korean), get a Korean friend, or better yet a gyopo (a returned Korean) to shepherd you through things.

Plus, you'll have someone to drink with then!

[GordonCooks]

that's it.  I'm breaking up with my boyfriend.  I showed him the pic of the grilled pork with the grilled garlic and said "hey, how f*cking awesome does this look?" 

He replied:  "Is that pork?  I don't like pork, that looks gross"

wahhhhhhhhhh, what did I do to deserve this?

anyways...I don't think I could loose as much weight in Korea as I did before, because of my beer drinking.  However, the beer in korea is pretty gross and soju does go much better with spicy food.

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Anyone who doesn't like pork is suspect in my eyes.

PS - Chilled Shots of Soju are the order of the day when people come over for my BBQs. The rule is one per hour and then I get them to try Kim-Chee. You'd be surprised how many I've converted.

edit grammar

Edited October 31, 2007 by GordonCooks (log)

[kbjesq]

. . .

ps. my husb. is enjoying your Korea, he pointed out that there weren't many comments, despite the large readership and mused that it probably was because most lurkers were thinking to themselves, 'I could NEVER eat that' (esp the liver and guts )

pps. Do you think not speaking Korean would be a handicap on a trip like yours? It is dawning on us that our Korean visits were woefully inadequate (except, typically, for the alcohol bits)

I could definitely see myself eating much of what Peter and his lucky family are eating (probably not the 4th stomach, or the cockroach things, however). But when I read his posts on this thread (and I've read every one of them, word for word!), the most that I can usually muster is: "Wow".

Which seems rather inadequate in the shadow of his adventures and wordsmithery.

I do have a few questions nagging me, however:

1. Along the lines of insomniac's question, would it be difficult to find a guide to assist tourists who speak only English? Would it be advisable to ask hotel staff for a reference?

2. What is the proper recipe for Korean pancakes? Your pictures are killing me. I bought a mix (like this), however, I can't read the directions and my pancakes seem too thick, and very gummy. Any help (ratios of mix to water to veggies, etc.) would be very helpful. Sheena, Doddie or anyone?

3. Next summer, we may have a chance to attend a music festival (GMMFS) located at the YongPyong Resort. Do you (or any other EGers) have an opinon about visiting this region, or this resort in particular? I realize that it is touristy, but according to the website, it is about 200km from Seoul . . . .

[Peter Green]

. . .

ps. my husb. is enjoying your Korea, he pointed out that there weren't many comments, despite the large readership and mused that it probably was because most lurkers were thinking to themselves, 'I could NEVER eat that' (esp the liver and guts )

pps. Do you think not speaking Korean would be a handicap on a trip like yours? It is dawning on us that our Korean visits were woefully inadequate (except, typically, for the alcohol bits)

I could definitely see myself eating much of what Peter and his lucky family are eating (probably not the 4th stomach, or the cockroach things, however). But when I read his posts on this thread (and I've read every one of them, word for word!), the most that I can usually muster is: "Wow".

Which seems rather inadequate in the shadow of his adventures and wordsmithery.

I do have a few questions nagging me, however:

1. Along the lines of insomniac's question, would it be difficult to find a guide to assist tourists who speak only English? Would it be advisable to ask hotel staff for a reference?

2. What is the proper recipe for Korean pancakes? Your pictures are killing me. I bought a mix (like this), however, I can't read the directions and my pancakes seem too thick, and very gummy. Any help (ratios of mix to water to veggies, etc.) would be very helpful. Sheena, Doddie or anyone?

3. Next summer, we may have a chance to attend a music festival (GMMFS) located at the YongPyong Resort. Do you (or any other EGers) have an opinon about visiting this region, or this resort in particular? I realize that it is touristy, but according to the website, it is about 200km from Seoul . . . .

←

I'll try to ask some questions about the YongPyong Restort tomorrow, and see what's what.

When they say something's touristy in Korea, that generally means either Japanese or Korean tourists. There really isn't a lot of anybody else (although there is a growing Chinese tourism).

And I'll see if we have a good pancake recipe.

Like I say, there's a growing group of English speakers, so finding someone to take you about may not be impossible. The best bet is ask friends if they have friends, and see what happens!

More food coming.

[Peter Green]

Two types of Pancakes That Aunt Jemima Never Ate

Commonly you'll see two types of pancake in Korea

Pindaetteok - mung bean pancake

Jeon - rice flour pancake

Here are two recipes, taken from Practical Korean Cooking by Noh Chinhwa (ISBN 0-930878-37-x)

Pindaetteok

1 cup dried mung beans

1/2 cup rice

1/2 cup water

1 oz pork

ginger

1 clove garlic

sesame oil

MSG

1 oz kimchi

rd pepper thread (hey, this's what I can use that for!)

2 green onions

cherry - see comments

parsley - see comments

1. soak the mung beans several hours in water and rub off the skins. Grind soaked riceand the mung beans wih water in a blender

2. Cut the pork into thin strips and mix it with the chopped garlic, ginger, and seasoning

3. Squeeze the water from the kimchi. Cut it into thin strips and mix it with sesame oil.

4. Drop the batter from step 1 by table-spoonfuls onto a hot oiled pan and top it evenly with the vegetable and pork strips. Fry until golden brown.

Hint: It tastes better to fry the batter in pork fat instead of oil

That's verbatim what they have in the book. Yoonhi's sleeping now, and I'm not stupid enough to wake her up for this.....okay, maybe I am stupid enough, but that's countered by an acute level of self-preservation.

Anyways, looking at what's here, I know she isn't going to bother dressing the dish up with cherries after the fact, nor with parsley. Drop both of those ingredients.

This is a good basic starter for lots of things. You can play with the vegetable and meat ingredients and do mix and match to your heart's content.

Pajeon - Fried Green Onion Pancake

1/4 lb mall green onion

1/4 bundle of watercress

1 oz pork

1/2 cup sea mussel

1/2 cup rice powder

1 egg

salt

vinegar-soy sauce

lettuce

1. Trim the small green onions and watercress and cut them into 4" lengths

2. Slice the pork thinly and chop the sea mussel finely

3. Add a little water to the rice flour and a little salt and mix into a light batter

4. Spread the sliced green onions in an oiled pan and place the sliced watercress between the green onion slices

5. Arrange the pork and sea mussel evenly on the vegetables of step 4. Spread the batter from step 3 on the top and cook slightly. Then cover the top with beaten egg and fry until golden brown. Serve with vinegar-soy sauce for dipping with lettuce on the side.

We have this at home a lot more often then pindaetteok, so I can talk this through a bit more. Yoonhi says don't worry about the rice flour if you don't have it. You can get by with all purpose. Likewise, this dish is all about green onions in batter, so don't sweat the watercress. Squid can substitute for mussels, but baby octopus are really good in this.

You will get a slightly crumbly, falling apart texture to the dish, so don't fret. Cut the pancake into bite sized pieces before serving, as the green onions running through can make it a mess to separate with chopsticks alone.

If Yoonhi disagrees violently with any of this, I'll get back and repost.

And remember - everything tastes better fried in pork.

[Domestic Goddess]

Kbjesq - here are some answers to your question:

1. Along the lines of insomniac's question, would it be difficult to find a guide to assist tourists who speak only English? Would it be advisable to ask hotel staff for a reference?

I suggest placing a free ad in the local paper like the Korean Herald and you'll find a multitude of friendly koreans who are willing to bring you all over Korea and wouldn't even charge you a cent (it's an opportunity for them to speak English and make foreign friends along the way).

2. What is the proper recipe for Korean pancakes? Your pictures are killing me. I bought a mix (like this), however, I can't read the directions and my pancakes seem too thick, and very gummy. Any help (ratios of mix to water to veggies, etc.) would be very helpful. Sheena, Doddie or anyone?

I have the same package in my pantry. My version is to put a cup of the mix in a bowl and add about 1/2 cup to 2/3 cup of water. Mix well until you get a watery batter. Add a little bit water if you thick the batter is too thick. To see if your batter is too thin or thick, dip a spoon in it and see how it coats. If there is a good thick coating on it, thin a little with a tablespoon or more of water. Too watery, add more powder. Not too watery though, or the pancake will not hold.

But with some experimentation, you'll get the hang of it. Remember, if you're making plain pajeaon, just add thinly sliced onions, carrots and leeks (or spring onion). If you are making seafood pajeon, you have to add thin slices of squid and whole oysters to the onion-carrots-leeks. I think I don't have to explain how to make kimchi pajeon.

3. Next summer, we may have a chance to attend a music festival (GMMFS) located at the YongPyong Resort. Do you (or any other EGers) have an opinon about visiting this region, or this resort in particular? I realize that it is touristy, but according to the website, it is about 200km from Seoul . . . .

All I can say is that, if it is touristy, expect to pay exhobitant prices . From bottled water to snacks.

Edited November 1, 2007 by Domestic Goddess (log)

[Peter Green]

October 16 – Back to the City

Jason had received a call the night before asking if he could make it back to Seoul for a gig. This put us home a day early, but I was beginning to miss Seoul, so I saw no problem with the change. The only issue would be getting everyone out of bed in time.

As expected I was the lone body leaving the motel that morning, laptop in my bag, jauntily traipsing the block downhill to the restaurants.

I knew my needs, and their capabilities. Stepping past the grilling fish I entered the same restaurant and took a conveniently unoccupied table near the window (disregard the fact that all the tables were conveniently unoccupied).

The young lady who’d been grilling the fish (is it the same one) raced to bring me the “English” menu, but I cheerfully called out for kimchi chigae, which stopped her in her tracks with a slightly furrowed smile, after which she ran back to the kitchen.

At this point it dawned upon me (mornings are like that) that I’d left the camera behind. So, in a refreshing return to past days of actually writing about food, let’s recap what I had.

The chigae itself was a splendid example of morning dining. All the reds and oranges of what at the start of the day would “give sailors warning”. Bright red oil pooled on the surface, clawing like lava at the pale tobikos who fought to keep their caps above the surface.

The spring onion, bright green, floating in the red broth, gave the impression of an LSD version of a logjam in a backwater pool, as mist (or in this case steam) lifted to the heavens, the long bulk of the steam half submerged.

With my panchan today came myulchi, the little anchovies my family holds so dear (Scud was on the phone the other day pleading with us not to eat all of the ones we brought back before he got here in December). These myulchi weren’t all dried out, as we have them overseas, but pliant. Crisp, but still with some yield. You could almost imagine that there’s some life still in their eyes as you move them into your mouth.

The miyok (seaweed) is thick and vinegared, clearing my palate as I wait for the chigae to be ready, and the mushrooms, which I’d enjoyed the other night, are softer today, fresher, with some chilis added in, but with no perceptible burn. Along with the chili, the mushrooms are set off with sesame seeds and minced garlic.

I would rave about the mu kimchi and baechukimchi, but honestly, it attested the same. And I must aver that the spinach was still green.

It’s a happy environment to take one’s breakfast. The older ladies in the kitchen are talking away like unleashed typewrites, and the young lady out grilling her fish is laughing along from the street.

With time, more customers arrive, and as each car pulls up, she trips out to them, all smiles and laughs, bows, and ushers them into the restaurant.

I lingered over my meal, enjoying the richness of the broth and the solid pieces of pork to go with the kimchi. A spoon of broth, some rice, a bit of panchan, some kimchi from the chigae with a bit of pork, and all repeated again.

Soon enough I was done. I tried to pay, but the young lady insisted that I had to have coffee. Luckily, I’d been schooled to ask for “black”, so what I received was not preloaded with sugar and cream.

And, as I enjoyed this, my phone lit up, letting me know that the family was now awake, and in search of sustenance. I advised them of my location, finished my coffee, and ordered a beer.

Well, it was after breakfast, after all.

Our motel owner had recommended this same one to Yoonhi when she’d left to meet me, but such rec’s should be taken with a grain of gochugaru around here – still, we were happy with what they cooked, and the panchan was better than the place we’d dined at the first night..

Yoonhi collected me, and we returned to the motel, packed, and hit the road, stopping only to take one quick picture of the restaurant we’d been patronizing these last two days.

We’d given ourself plenty of time to get back to Seoul. This meant that, instead of the expressway (which has all of the efficiency and charm of I5 down the West Coast of the US) we could take the smaller roads through the hills.

Our first stop, though, was for food. We hit Yangyang, just past Sokcho. This is the international airport for this area, which means they’re servicing China and Japan, I should expect.

It’s a pretty town as pretty non-descript towns go. Mid-sized, with nothing much to recommend it.

But for us, it was a pit stop before we kicked off the next few hours of driving.

Jason spotted the local franchise of Kimbap Cheonguk “Kimbap Heaven” next to a donut shop. We took over a table for four (which would’ve been better for two) in the packed restaurant, and did a quick check of what was available.

This is the sort of place that makes somebody else rich. If you’re getting ahead, you either own one really good, popular restaurant which you look after yourself, or else you have a chain with a recognizable name, and staff it with low paid Chinese and North Korean employees.

The difference in attitude shows. I was comparing the rather glum faces I saw about me here with the smiles and laughter of the family place I’d had breakfast at.

Still, the food was good.

Jason ordered a bowl of ryabokki – ddeokbokki with ryamen noodles. If you need a hit of starch, this is the thing to order. Serena had her usual ddeokguk, a mass of white, with some crumpled kim (nori) on top.

And we ordered a roll of kim bap (this was “heaven” after all) and another roll of maeun gochu kimbap – “spicy kim bap roll”.

The standader kimbap was the “everything kimbap” – with processed cheese, carrot, tuna fish, hot dog, sausage, egg, and takuan. The “spicy roll” had a good swab of gochugaru and vinegar down alongside the hotdog, takuan, carrot, egg, and spinach (dropping the cheese and sausage) they’d layered in there. A reasonable bite, at least enough of one that Serena wasn’t going anywhere near it.

Yoonhi, over on her side of the table, had galguksu “knife noodles” while I had suchaebi. The galguksu are noodles that are formed by cutting with a knife, a thicker noodle. The dough is made by hand, rolled, and then cut. Yoonhi, however, is suspicious of how even the noodles are, and suspects the intervention of machines (noodle robots?).

The suchaebi I had is another variant on noodles. This is galguksu dough, but taken in hunks rather than as noodles.

With this we had beer. There’d be more than enough time for soju later on.

While we ate (or rather, waited for Serena to finish) Jason grabbed a sports paper and caught up on who was playing who. He walked me through the rag – the Sports Chosun.

This is intended to be a sports paper, right? But, aside from a random smattering of pieces on the baseball league and who’s playing tennis or golf, the vast bulk of the paper was social gossip, all about who was dating who, and who was seen at what party. Celebrity driven, of course.

On the bright side, the paper carried three solid pages of comics! A lot more of which is serialized over here, like it used to be back when I was young and you eagerly awaited the next installment of Tarzan or the Phantom.

My greatest disappointment, though, was the total lack of paduk (go). The recaps of the paduk tournaments and key games used to always be covered in the papers. Not anymore. We are in the twilight of civilization, I keep on saying.

In its stead, the modern Korean plays Starcraft. World of Warcraft has caught on to a certain extent, but it’s Starcraft and Counterstrike that hold the bulk of the populace in thrall.

The gaming system in Korea is now targeting the kids in middle school to start filling out the ranks of the gaming leagues. In the old days, these were the kids who would join the school paduk and changi teams (changi is closer to chess), and would set aside their studies to practice for 8 hours a day in the hopes of making it into the pro levels.

Now, it’s 8 hours a day of video games, with the prize being a spot on the circuit, and purses that can earn you six figures (in dollars, not won) a year.

Yoonhi tells me not to give up my day job.

After lunch we hit the road again, beginning a series of switchbacks that took us up into the heart of the mountains.

Construction was underway, with one lane pretty much perpetually shut down. Luckily, there wasn’t a lot of traffic, and we only nearly died once when a large truck ploughed out of a blind junction and nearly t-boned us. Other than that, it was a pretty benign drive as we wound and weaved our way up.

The scenery was better and better as we climbed, with more of the jagged rocks capping the hills.

And the leaves were perking up, their colours opening with every day.

“In a couple of weeks it’ll look really good!”

After passing the mineral springs at Oseak we arrived at the top of the mountain, at Hangyereong Pass, where we took a leg stretch and then cowered inside the rest stop, sheltering from the cold. It was brisk out there.

The views here were excellent. Craggy peaks to the south of us, and more steps climbing up the hillside behind us.

Inside there was a string of vendors – boiled potatoes (little ones), and hoddeok, and ddeokbokki, and odaeng.

And they had booze.

They had a great selection of dongdongju, with mushroom flavour being the standard. This area is reknown for its pine mushrooms, so this is hardly a surprise.

And there was more alcohol to be had. The one second from the right in this picture is called “angel’s tears” – cheonsaeui nunmul. To its left is Autumn Chrysanthemum wine, a soju of dried chrysanthemum petals (gukhwaju). Beside that, the shapely bottle is songiju (mushroom wine).

And then there’s our friend from the other night. Except this bottle is way cooler. This one is labeled as bulgunju. I’m afraid to ask what that means.

After our pit stop it was a few more hours drive to get back to Seoul. As Jason’s one of the only people in Korea without a GPS, navigation fell on me, madly trying to keep up with the hangul on the map.

But this wasn’t a big problem, as, once we’d descended from the hills and the motorway became a full-fledged freeway, signage was pretty good.

Eating, drinking, and socializing in this quirky culture – strongly traditional, but also cutting edge in many ways, you forget you’re in a country that is still technically at war. There’s a cease fire (which more or less holds) but it’s not peace.

We came across a rifle company marching up the side of the road – about 120 men armed to the teeth, with a healthy spotting of anti-tank weapons on the bigger guys.

I know better than to take pictures.

The one that woke us up, though, was when we came back across the Han River on the bridge, and an Apache took station alongside us, bringing its armament to bear on the traffic. Right after that we saw what at first we thought was a drone diving into the traffic, but then we realized it was just a radio controlled plane. A pretty big radio controlled plane, but not one that involved explosives.

Wakes you right up, that does.

We drove straight to Jason’s work. The studio was just off of Apgujeong, so while he spent some time getting the intonation right, I wandered about, taking in the daytime ambience.

Like I say, as long as you like Korean food, this town can really grow on you.

Jason did one other piece at another studio, and then we were free to get home, unpack, and go looking for dinner.

Dinner tonight was in another old neighborhood Jason had lived in for awhile. This was Nonhyun Dong, by the Kyobo Building interchange.

We were dining this evening at Kaesongjib. This place is in Jason’s two favourite places (the first place going to the samgyepsal place we did the first night).

The specialty here is fatty beef – chadolbegi. Thinly cut, and sporting broad racing stripes of fat. As it was the specialty, we had to order it.

But we hadn’t come here for the beef.

We came for the crab.

Jason and his friends referred to this place as the “spicy crab place”. As part of the panchan, you had all the crab you could eat. This was much like the fermented crab we’d had with Doddie in Icheon, but here it was slathered in a gochujang sauce that was extremely mild, and sweet and thick on the palate.

As you’d expect, the beef is taken as ssum,with ddeanjang, lettuce for the wrapping, and salt and sesame. Plus the other panchan you’re getting used to now.

Serena watched the meat sizzling on the foil like a vulture watching a dying Englishman braise in the dessert.

We needed some chigae, so we ordered a soon dubu chigae for the table. Now, instead of the ground beef texture we’d just been getting accustomed to we had the soft silkiness of little rectangles again.

As I’d mentioned, there was time enough for soju with dinner. We stuck with chamisul, the Jinro 19% soju. This does an excellent job of washing away any cloyiness in your mouth as you munch through the beef fat.

The meat went quickly. It was good, and Serena ordered some more, but my pork levels had been getting dangerously low, so we ordered some pig neck “mogsal”.

With this, we also called for more garlic, and tossed it onto the foil. I hadn’t paid it much attention, but now that I think on it, I suppose we were eating about two bulbs of garlic at each of our dinners when we were grilling.

The pork gets scissored wrapped in lettuce, sauced, and topped up with green onion, kimchi, and garlic. You know the drill by now.

But the real draw is, of course, all the spicy crab you can eat. Place the body in your mouth and bite down, then suck the raw flesh and the sweet chili paste sauce in, and move on to the next piece.

We went through five refills on the crab.

As I’d said, a successful place goes on 24 hour service. This whole street was pretty much 24 hours a day, packed with a full variety of different eateries and bars, including a number of Han-U beef places (you can tell, as the price per serving that’s advertised is way higher).

The street was a lot of fun, and I could see why Jason enjoyed the life here before, but it’d been a long day, and we were ready to get back home and get some rest.

Of course that happy thought died still-born. At least for me. Once we were part way home, Jason was on the phone with his friends, coordinating the next stage of the evening.

Luckily, this next stage was just across the street from his place, so we dropped Yoonhi and Serena off to get some sleep. Jason and I took off on foot for Dongha ddak sutbul bbq (ba-bi-kkyu) Dongha chicken charcoal bbq.

To cut it short, this is the bbq chicken spot for Jason and his hockey and baseball teams. After the games they come here in the evening, and relive the glory or ignominy of their contests of manliness.

Luckily, they stay in just as good a mood in either case.

What you get here, along with large amounts of beer, is a whole chicken, slathered in gochugaru and other things in a marinade, that’s been broken apart and grilled over charcoal, then served with a liberal sprinkling of sesame seeds. This is really good chicken. Not burning hot to the point of distraction, but sweet and spicy, like the crab, and with lots of flesh.

Chicken isn’t something we’d eaten a lot of when we’d been here in the 90’s. Heck, it wasn’t something we’d seen much of at all. But the world’s most popular bird has taken over the late night gotta-eat-something scene in a big way over here.

Jason’s compatriots slipped in in ones and twos, and pretty soon there was a good sized group of us talking about baseball, hockey, ghosts, 24, and Heroes. The usual stuff.

The fellow that owns the place had been described to me before as “jolly”, and I saw what Jason meant. I never saw him drink anything, but he just seemed extremely happy with everything, a state that usually takes me at least one drink and a good appetizer.

By 2:30 we were thinking of moving on and giving him an opportunity to shut down for the night, but just then another group of 8 came in, and started ordering large amounts of food and beer.

Our reason for leaving had disappeared. So we ordered more beer and another chicken.

Behind his smiles he must’ve been distressed that we might not have enough food in us, so the owner started bringing us more bar snacks.

The first thing to show was a plate of frites. With mayonnaise, Belgian style, and gochujang, Korean style.

About ten minutes after we’d finished that, and ordered more drinks, a plate of tentacles and meat came out, along with some peanuts. I always like peanuts with my squid.

The finisher was the dried fish. This was really good, yielding, with some softness left in it, like a Chinese wet jerky. But I was pretty much topped up, and it took so much out of me ordering and drinking the last few rounds of beer, that I could only handle about half of this.

It’s good for a man to know his limitations. I’m figuring mine was getting to be 5 a.m.

[Domestic Goddess]

Peter - tell me when you run out of dried anchovies, I'll send you a boxfull for Scud.

[Peter Green]

Peter - tell me when you run out of dried anchovies, I'll send you a boxfull for Scud.

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You've made a big boy very happy.

[milgwimper]

I am glad a lot more people have posted! Not to mention more recipes for me to cut and paste.

Peter:

I have the noh chin hwa book too, and it is pretty good, although I hate the layout of some of the recipes. I get confused on which recipes I am reading. How do you like the cookbook?

The raw crab muchim is my favourite banchan. Now I know where to get some with refills! Whenever I can get to Korea.

In the US if you asked for refills after the second one of the crabs they give you a look like you are an evil cockroach.

The suchebi is pretty much my favourite and easy meal to make. LOL My mom and I love the stuff and it is like we have a secret eating club her and I. Mostly older generations don't like it because rice was in shortage during the war and they ate a lot of suchaebi.

::waddles off to make suchaebi for lunch.::

[Peter Green]

I have the noh chin hwa book too, and it is pretty good, although I hate the layout of some of the recipes. I get confused on which recipes I am reading. How do you like the cookbook?

←

Okay, I'll admit right out that, outside of kimchi chigae, Yoonhi does the Korean cooking in our house (as I like chigae for breakfast, and Yoonhi likes to sleep, this is the one exception).

When we were at the Cultural Museum (coming up next) and in the area nearby, we were scouring bookstores for Korean cookbooks. Of the Korean cookbooks that are in English, this one is still the most "complete".

Now, I find that the ingredient amounts can be Korean at time ("how much do we use?" "Oh, you just use the right amount, you know!"), whereas Yoonhi is very comfortable with the book. But I question if that's in part as she knows most of the recipes already, and the book just acts as a trigger.

Be that as it may, she compared what she found in other books with this, and felt that she'd need three or more of the others to cover everything in here.

This in part points out the need for more up to date cookbooks. There's a lot going on in the restaurants this trip that we weren't seeing in the 90's. The material is probably there in the Korean texts, but it'd be good to see that getting translated and made more accessible.

In the US if you asked for refills after the second one of the crabs they give you a look like  you are an evil cockroach.

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But I am an evil cockroach!

[milgwimper]

Okay, I'll admit right out that, outside of kimchi chigae, Yoonhi does the Korean cooking in our house (as I like chigae for breakfast, and Yoonhi likes to sleep, this is the one exception).

When we were at the Cultural Museum (coming up next) and in the area nearby, we were scouring bookstores for Korean cookbooks.  Of the Korean cookbooks that are in English, this one is still the most "complete".

Now, I find that the ingredient amounts can be Korean at time ("how much do we use?"  "Oh, you just use the right amount, you know!"), whereas Yoonhi is very comfortable with the book.  But I question if that's in part as she knows most of the recipes already, and the book just acts as a trigger.

Be that as it may, she compared what she found in other books with this, and felt that she'd need three or more of the others to cover everything in here.

This in part points out the need for more up to date cookbooks.  There's a lot going on in the restaurants this trip that we weren't seeing in the 90's.  The material is probably there in the Korean texts, but it'd be good to see that getting translated and made more accessible.

In the US if you asked for refills after the second one of the crabs they give you a look like  you are an evil cockroach.

←

But I am an evil cockroach!

←

I have to agree with you on the book. I use it mainly for inspiration like all korean cookbooks, but really I am not happy with one, and a lot of the food they serve in Korea is not even represented in most cookbooks, not to mention the newer things in the restaurants now.

I have a bit of a collection of Korean cookbooks going and I keep adding more and more, but ultimately I'm not happy yet with all the content. I am thinking of ordering some korean language cookbooks but that might take awhile for me to read, but it does help me with my Korean. I have one that is written in english one one side and korean on the other, also a basic korean language cookbook in korean, but was hoping to find one that made other things than the standards.

Like for instance I have never seen a Korean cookbook with kamjatang, it is something you have to learn from a friend, family member etc. Maybe we can make a wish list of korean recipes that should be in a cookbook, but usually aren't, and maybe someone somewhere can write one.

Anyways maybe this is for another topic.

Well I wasn't going to say anything about the feelers poking out of your head But I must be a cockroach too because I still ask for another fill up on the crabs!

I had suchaebi for dinner and it was great.

Edited to correct spelling and clarity.

Edited November 1, 2007 by milgwimper (log)

[SheenaGreena]

Peter, my mother always says you can spot a spicy Korean chili by sight--some inexplicable combination of stubbiness, curvature, and depth of it's green color. I've never gotten this technique down, but those chilis struck me as evil-looking

my mother claims to know the same by sight and smell. Usually my sister and I follow the exact opposite of what she says. If she says it's mild and not spicy, we steer clear. Some korean chiles are really long and big, and you'd think they weren't spicy at all, but holy crap some of them are lethal.

peter, do you know how to get seollangtang that milky white? I try to make it every winter (with oxtail bones), but it never turns out as milky. I think the trick to it is to bring the bones to a boil and then throw out the water several times or to soak the bones overnight. Does the wife have any tips?

to the person who bought the pancake mix: usually pancake mixes cause for a 1:1 ratio. One cup of mix to one cup of water. I find it too thick, so I add a little more water or maybe 1/3 to 1/4 cup of kimchi juice (more flavor!)

If you don't have korean pancake mix....I find that adding 1 cup of flour to a cup of water plus an egg works just fine. You can add green onion, chopped chiles, kimchi, mixed seafood, or whatever you want. It's always a toss up with kimchi jeon and seafood jeon with me.

I think one of the best thing about sujaebi and kalgooksu for me is the spicy soy sauce condiment. Basically you take a bunch of chopped chiles, green onion, sesame seeds, and gochugaru and add it to soy sauce. It is nice topped on top of either soup.

eta: I'd be content with a plate of those spicy crabs, a bowl of soup, and glass of ice cold beer

peter, what do you like better? spicy crabs or soy sauce crabs? I can never choose myself. The spicy crabs are so sweet and well spicy, but you get a more crabby essence with the soy sauce crabs cause you can taste the guts more.

You wouldn't happen to have a recipe for either would you?

Edited November 1, 2007 by SheenaGreena (log)

[Peter Green]

peter, what do you like better? spicy crabs or soy sauce crabs?  I can never choose myself.  The spicy crabs are so sweet and well spicy, but you get a more crabby essence with the soy sauce crabs cause you can taste the guts more. 

You wouldn't happen to have a recipe for either would you?

←

I'm leaning to the spicy crabs, but part of that is going to be, I know, fallout enthusiasm from my nephew and his friends.

Downside on the spicy crabs, though, is the sauce itself. It's a lot messier than the soy ferments, with the sauce getting all over your fingers like good bbq. I found I needed to lick the legs off first, and then work at sucking out the lungs and guts.

I couldn't find a recipe for kejang (we have one for kejeot, but that's not the same). I asked Yoonhi "So, if you were going to make this, how would you do it then?"

"I'm not. Someone else can come up with the recipe."

I know when to stop.

[Peter Green]

do you know how to get seollangtang that milky white?  I try to make it every winter (with oxtail bones), but it never turns out as milky.  I think the trick to it is to bring the bones to a boil and then throw out the water several times or to soak the bones overnight.  Does the wife have any tips?

←

Sheena,

Yoonhi says they'd use neck, knee and other bones, with no meat left attached. But oxtail should work really well. You boil it for a few days, and it ends up milky white.

You just have to be really, really patient. (Try munching on the skinned penis worms while you wait )