Hey there, kids. I'm back in action this last week to inform you, the American news-making public (let's not get into that one, Sarah Palin), about the most important things in my life. Since my last week was about as exciting as staff meeting on the latest Excel updates, I'll spare you. Seriously, I'd rather go into the minimal knowledge I have of macros than explain the banality of my week. So, I will instead foray (the dictionary definition of foray is much more violent than I had previously assumed) into the world of Korean culture. This series is a year in the making, really. I have obviously explored the topic with you all before, as I'm living in the damn country, but never in this way, I think.
I will cover with you what I covered with my students about American culture, starting with food. I will, of course, use English that is above a kindergarten level (but not above a 6th grade level) and use jokes that may be inappropriate for the age group mentioned above (read: adults). Here we go. With pictures.
Korean food is a complex beast. First of all, there's the language difference wherein the words used to name these dishes oftentimes mean something and can be recycled in different incarnations, as opposed to having a different name for every little dish we create.
When I first got here, I was unaware of this complexity. I was then a vegetarian, and my options seemed to consist of two things:
Bibimbap. Bibimbap is the vegetarian go-to. It is a bowl, sometimes hot depending on which version you get (in both temperature and spiciness), filled with rice and topped with vegetables and sometimes an egg. The sauce is what makes it delicious and I can't quite tell you what it is. If I were to guess, though, I'd say it had something to do with fish oil and bean paste. Please note that these pictures are the Emeril Legasse version of the real thing you get in the restaurant.
Kimbap.To the uninitiated, this will look like standard sushi without the fish. If you go to Japan and you see sushi that looks like this, it's not sushi and you're the big giant asshole who thinks it is. This is the "I just got my Starbucks and I'm late for work" meal. Being uncooked, it takes less than a minute to prepare and comes in a few different flavors to satisfy the pickier clientele. The tuna kimbap is killer diller.
As mentioned above, you may notice both those dishes end with -bap. Bap is Korean for rice. Both of these dishes are based on rice. Hmm. Complex stuff we're "foraying" into.
Initially, my options were limited due to lack of knowledge of vegetarian options and general laziness. I, of course, was introduced early to this magical side dish.
Kimchi.I say magical because, depending on who you ask, kimchi has the power to end all sickness forever. A common treatment for avian flu, kimchi's health properties are about as debated as fan death. One interesting thing I did recently learn about was that Health magazine named kimchi one of the top five healthiest foods out there (check me out with my links. But seriously, click them all or you'll miss out, and who wants that?). What is kimchi? Kimchi comes in many forms and flavors (just kimchi dishes could take up its own post alone), but normally it is cabbage that is fermented in some kind of fish oil that generates the same properties as yogurt mixed with a multi-vitamin and Hulk Hogan's 24" pythons. It cures cancer, it shoots Nazis, it dices, it slices, and it can go into SPACE. Take that, Burger King cheeseburger deluxe.
Alas, it is now a commonly known fact that I have deviated away from my once noble path of vegetarianism. I gave it the ol' college try, though. Since walking into the devil's kitchen, I have also entered a whole new world of cuisine. Let's discuss. First, let's talk about Korean barbecue.
Korean barbecue is a world as vast as kimchi. I will name a few options that have treated my taste buds well thus far. First, my favorite.
Galmaegisal.
Galmaegisal comes from the part of the pig which could possibly be labeled its armpit. But it's so damn tasty you would swear it came from a cow. I'm serious. People will refuse to believe me that it comes from a pig after they eat it.
Some other favorites (which, granted, look remarkably like the above picture so there's no need to post new pics of each one) include so-galbi, daegi-galbi, samgyeopsal, and makchang.
Makchang gets a special shout out (picture included) because it is a unique one. It is from a different part of the pig. The inside part. The part that makes the poop. The large intestine. Eww, so gross! No, it's not. They treat it first so it doesn't smell or really look like it should, and when you cook it, it takes on a little bit of a chewy quality that is endearing, not a chewy quality that is revolting. Plus, it supposedly originated in Daegu, defying both evolutionists and creationists.
I suppose we should delve into the world of street food and send out the seasonal dishes as a closer.
Street food. Street food is heaven for drunk people. Those early AM runs to McDonald's are (mostly) a thing of the past when you've got a sassy old ajumma cooking up some street meat for you on the cheap. Not all the standards are included in this picture, but at least the sassy ajumma is.
The most common is ddeokbokki. This is basically a bowl full of small rice cakes in a Spaghetti-Os sauce. It's the red platter in the middle of the pic. It is often mixed with mandu (Korean dumplings, also in the pic) to create a symphony of fried flavors. One of my personal favorites is the livers lathered in more mystery sauce. And don't even get me started on the dessert options.
Seasonal Eats.
There are a few dishes that are offered year round, yet most Koreans don't order it unless it is the right season to do so. Here are a few.
Naengmyun.Naengmyun is a summer dish because it is a cold bowl of noodles. There are ice cubes in it. At first, it feels like you are eating old leftovers that couldn't even be bothered to be heated up in the microwave, but eventually it comes into its own as a veritable dish. Noodles, vegetables, and an egg on top, it is reminiscent of a cold soupy version of bibimbap. But it's different, I say.
Samgyetang.
Tang means soup in Korean. Not that crappy orange drink you know it as, tang is pronounced more like "tong." Samgyetang means "three layer soup" and that's precisely what it is. It's a whole chicken (albeit a small runt) stuffed with rice and ginseng, with sometimes a date or two thrown in. It is traditionally a dish that is to be had three times in one summer for health. Once at the beginning, once in the middle, and once at the end. I somehow stuck to this methodology despite how tasty it is.
Gamjatang.Again the "tang" at the end. This is more like a stew. A good, hearty winter food. Upon first glance, it looks like it should taste like a fart, but upon ingestion inspection it reveals itself as much more than an average Sunday night football game at your Uncle Joe's. It's quite tasty, although the presence of difficult-to-work-with bones will be off putting to those traditional American cuisine aficionados.
This post is long enough without delving into Korea's version of Chinese food or the kuksu class of food. Thus, I will spare you. Check back tomorrow if I'm feeling squirrely.
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