Comfort Soups

A broken ankle, snow on the ground, facebook status updates on various Christmas activities. A year and four months in Korea, and I'm really missing home. Thankfully, I know just what to do (or eat) when the homesickness strikes: Budae Jjigae and Samgyetang.

Budae jjigae, also known as army base stew, became popular after the Korean War. Quality meats were hard to find, so to make due, Koreans started using surplus foods from the U.S. Army bases, such as hot dogs and Spam, and incorporating them into a traditional spicy soup seasoned with red chili paste and kimchi. Today, the stew is still very popular and includes anything from instant ramen noodles, ground beef, onions, tteok (rice cake), chili peppers, tofu, garlic, mushrooms, zucchini and cabbage. It's like what we Americans call "everything but the kitchen sink soup," but better.

I was actually appalled at myself for liking this dish. I mean, for God's sake, it has Spam and hot dogs in it. But there's something about the way the salty meats mix with the fiery chili broth and seasonal vegetables that makes me unbutton my pants for more.

Then there's Samgyetang, the Korean's take on chicken soup. Rich, tender chicken in a salty broth--very similar to the American staple, although its appearance could scare off a few non-adventurous eaters. A whole young chicken stuffed with glutinous rice in a bubbling broth of Korean ginseng, dried jujube berries, chestnuts, garlic and ginger comes to your table in individual pots. The server gives you a small pitcher of ginseng wine and a small trash can for the bones. (Sidenote: Do not eat Samgyetang on a first date...or the sixth date for that matter. Spitting out bones while sweating out ginseng is not becoming.) Think chicken and rice soup, only made by a Korean Emeril Lagasse. They have really kicked it up a notch. Seriously, I would bathe in this stuff.

Traditionally, Samgyetang is served in the summer months for its nutritive properties, replacing those lost through excessive sweating. And according the last Korean man I dated, most Koreans enjoy the soup on three days a year--the hottest days in summer. Never taking anyone's word for anything, I googled it. And according to the all-knowing Internet, the three hottest days of the year even have names: Chobok (초복), Jungbok (중복) and Malbok (말복).

But I don't care. Let the Koreans sweat it out in the summer. I'm completely fine with being the stupid blond girl, stuffing her face with a whole young chicken, wearing a cast, in the corner, by herself, watching the snow fall out the window. This is the holiday season after all.

A Word on School Lunches

My foodie friend Megan Greenberg scoffed at the idea that I would gain weight on anything other than Gruyère and flan during my recovery. The thought of eating school lunches and Lara Bars while wearing sweatpants for a month and a half made her reevaluate our food-based friendship.

I understand where she's coming from. Hell, I'd much rather be eating large servings of Mexican custard and $15 grilled cheeses. But the fact is, I live in Korea. And Koreans don't do cheese.

While pleading my case over email, I could see her look of disgust. I imagined she was drinking a large cup of Columbian coffee, nibbling on a slice of homemade quiche while typing.

"But Korean lunches are really good..." I started to type. But then I remembered, she lives in America, where mystery meats and tater tots reign supreme. I remembered the Hamburger Helper pizza special during my high school years and immediately gave up pleading my case.

Until now.

Every day, the Korean teachers come by the classrooms with a cart full of white rice, large batches of hot soup and a variety of banchan (small side dishes). Some days the soup is kimchi jjigae (cabbage and tofu in a spicy broth), others it's doenjang guk (soybean paste and vegetables), kongnamul guk (bean sprout soup) or miyeok guk (seaweed soup). Either way, it's good. The banchan always consists of kimchi, whether it's spicy fermented cabbage, turnips or onions. Other banchan might include sprouts in a spicy red sauce, boiled quail eggs, squid salad, fried sweet potatoes sprinkled with sesame seeds, roasted pork, pajeon (a savory pancake), mandu (dumplings), japchae (glass noodles with pork and vegetables), anchovies, steamed egg and crab rolls, acorn jelly, fried pork and sweet potato cutlets, corn salad...the list goes on.

It's hot, it's savory, it's delicious.

Needless to say, it's no Hamburger Helper.

The Sweatpants Blues

Some people lose weight when they break a bone. They sleep so much they forget to eat. The lack of movement kills their appetite. The depression makes food taste like dirt.

I have never understood these people.

For me, a six-week sentence of crutches and a cast means lots of reading, lots of watching movies, and lots of eating.

It's not like I want to gain 10 pounds during this recovery, but the whole not being able to shower thing really makes it hard to find motivation. Oh, and the fact that I can't use my hands to cook or carry bags of takeout. So, I've been relying on protein bars and school lunches.

Protein bar for breakfast, whatever the kids eat for snack, white rice and whatever else the school serves for lunch, whatever the kids eat for snack, school lunch leftovers for dinner, and a chocolate Lara bar for dessert. Okay, lately it's been about three or four chocolate bars for dessert.

But just like the people that make excuses for losing weight during their recoveries, I have a million excuses for overeating. Excuse No.1: I've been wearing sweatpants every day for two weeks.

Jennifer the Turkey

I've never cared too much for turkey. Deep fried, baked, white meat, dark meat, gravy, no gravy--it was all the same to me. But this year, my second Thanksgiving in Seoul, I couldn't get the idea of a big turkey dinner out of my head. I had to have it.

So, I found a couple options. I could spend $50 on a turkey buffet in Itaewon (the foreign part of town), I could indulge in a $70 sit-down dinner in Apgujeong (the Beverly Hills of Seoul), or I could pick up a pre-made dinner from the military base (enough to feed 10-12 people) for $100. It was a no-brainer.

I decorated the apartment with hand turkeys and Thanksgiving Day wreaths I made at school. I mopped the floors and scrubbed the stove. I made sure there were enough paper plates and plastic cups for everyone attending.

"Jen, do you need me to go with you to pick up the turkey dinner," asked my roommate Cory.
"No, just pick up some wine and get excited for what's to come," I said. "I've got this under control."

But I didn't. Not at all. On my way back from picking up the bird, I somehow lost my footing and fell to the ground--the box landing on my ankle. I knew right away it was broken.

After the doctor confirmed my prognosis, my roommates came by the hospital to check on me, and to pick up the highly-anticipated Thanksgiving dinner. "Just make sure to save me some," I said.

But, in true Korean fashion, I was out of the hospital 30 minutes later, hobbling to my apartment on crutches.

A couple glasses of wine, two plates of food, and a pack of painkillers and anti-inflammatories later, I was in my bed watching Anthony Bourdain with my friend Jason--trying to drown out the music and laughter from the living room.

"I know this sucks," said Jason. "But you have to admit, that was some pretty damn good turkey."

And the eating begins...well, sort of.

Fully prepared to start checking off the items on my Korean Food Bucket List, I set off last Sunday with my friend Jason and a piece of paper. I had written down a few dishes I thought I could easily find in my neighborhood. But after walking around for 20 minutes, I realized why I hadn't checked them off sooner. I definitely need to do a bit more prep work.

Tired of hearing my California-blooded pal moaning about the cold, I called off my quest and settled for a new restaurant called "The Meat Tree." It was traditional Korean dining meets New York butcher shop--various cuts of beef and pork neatly displayed behind a glass case in the back, and heated floors with mats waiting for you after you made your selection. We were in meat heaven.

I ordered galbitang (갈비탕), a slow-simmered beef short rib soup. Jason had a thicker, spicier variety. Both were rich, delicious and exactly what we (especially him) needed on a cold autumn day.


Before moving to Korea, I would have never considered going to a restaurant and ordering soup. In fact, if I did, I'd probably have a bit of my server's saliva mixed with it. However, since any meal in Korea is served with a variety of side dishes and rice, soups have become a staple in Korean cuisine. Soups are known as guk (국) and tang (탕), while Jjigae (찌개) refers to a wide variety of stews. There are easily 30 soups and stews that are well known and eaten regularly in Korea. I have no idea of the number that actually exist.

I don't know how much I'll miss eating rice for every meal, or having some sort of tiny fish or octopus in nearly everything I eat, but I will definitely miss ordering a big bowl of soup for dinner. At a restaurant. For less than five dollars.

Tea Time

Every so often, the lights of the big city get too bright, the cars too loud and the people too rude. Lucky for me, there are a few groups of people (meetup.com) who are always looking to get away.

Last weekend, about 35 foreigners and I took a 5-hour bus ride to Naejangsan--a mountain south of Seoul, known for its beautiful fall foliage. We spent most of Saturday hiking the mountain, then headed to Nagan Folk Village to spend the night in traditional Korean huts.The village was amazing, and so were the people. But sleeping on the floor, even after a year and some-odd months doing it, left something to be desired.

The next day, we visited a nearby green tea farm to pick flowers and drink tea. We also learned how to properly serve and drink the beverage, then took turns pressing and drying the leaves. As a reward, we got a box of loose leaf tea, a bag of green tea flowers and a big bowl of green tea bibimbap.Afterwards, we purchased green tea ice cream and an assortment of rice cakes and cookies for the ride home.

It was a good weekend.




Picking green tea flowers.

Some of my hard work.

The green tea leaves we pressed into shapes to dry.

Green tea bibimbap.

Korean Food Challenge

During a severe procrastination spell, I stumbled upon zenkimchi.com's article "100 Korean Foods You Gotta Try in Your Lifetime." I took it as fate--a challenge to take on during my remaining four months in Seoul. I've pasted the list below, and will be posting my progress. I've currently tried 83 out of the 100 dishes listed, and have marked my "Korean Food Bucket List" with asterisks. I'm saving the dog soup for last...or, I might have to settle for 99/100.


1. Myeolchi Bokkeum (Stir-fried Anchovies)
2. Samgyetang (Ginseng Chicken Soup)
3. Bulgogi (Grilled Marinated Beef)
4. BulDalk (Burn-your-pants-off Spicy Grilled Chicken)
5. DalkBal (Spicy Chicken Feet)*
6. Korean Fried Chicken
7. Dalk Galbi (Stir-fried Marinated Chicken and Veggies)
8. San Nakji, chopped (Semi-live Baby Octopus)*
9. San Nakji, whole (Live Octopus)*
10. Sundubu Jjigae (Soft Tofu Stew)
11. Juk (Rice Porridge)
12. Galbi (Grilled Short Ribs)
13. Galbitang (Short Rib Soup)
14. Shinseollo (Fancy Hot Pot)*
15. Gobchang Gui (Grilled Beef Intestines)
16. Seng Gan (Raw Beef Liver)*
17. Galbi Jjim (Stewed Ribs)
18. Bossam (Steamed Marinated Pork with Lettuce Wraps)
19. Japchae (Clear Noodles Stir-fried with Pork and Vegetables)
20. Jaeyuk Bokkeum (Spicy Stir-fried Pork)
21. Kimchi Jjim (Braised Kimchi with Tofu)
22. Ddong Jip (Chicken Gizzards)
23. Odeng/Eomuk (Street-side Fish Noodles)
24. Hoddeok (Stuffed Street-side Pastries)
25. GeiJang (Raw Fermented Crabs)*
26. Hongeo (Fermented Skate)*
27. Gochujang Samgyeopsal (Grilled Pork Belly Smothered in Red Pepper Paste)
28. Lotteria’s Shrimp Burger
29. Sae-u Kang (Shrimp Flavored “Fries”)
30. Doenjang Jjigae (Fermented Bean Paste Stew)
31. Cheonggukjang (Stinky Fermented Bean Paste Stew)
32. Boshintang (Dog Soup)*
33. Seonji Haejangguk (Hangover Stew with Clotted Cow Blood)*
34. Ddeokbokki (Chewy Rice Cakes in Spicy Sauce)
35. YukHui (Korea’s Steak Tartare)
36. MiyeokGuk (Seaweed Soup)
37. Mae-eunTang (Spicy Fish Soup)
38. Nakji Bokkeum (Stir-fried Baby Octopus)
39. Mareun Ojingeo (Dried Cuttlefish)
40. Beondaeggi (Silkworm Larvae)
41. Golbaenggi (Sea Snails)
42. Jangeo Gui (Grilled Eel)
43. Jaratang (Turtle Soup)*
44. Bog-eo (Blowfish)*
45. Sae-u Sogeum Gui (Salt Grilled Shrimp)
46. Deodeok Root*
47. Bindae Ddeok (Mung Bean Pancake)
48. Pajeon (Green Onion Pancake)
49. Bibimbap (Mixed Rice and Vegetables)
50. Boribap (Mixed Barley Rice and Vegetables)
51. Jjim Dalk (Braised Chicken)
52. Patbingsu (Shaved Ice and Red Bean Treat)
53. Dotorimok (Acorn Jelly)
54. Naengmyeon (Chilled Noodles)
55. Makkoli/Dongdongju (Rice Beer)
56. Bokbunja (Raspberry Wine)
57. Soju (Rice Whiskey)
58. Andong Soju (Strong Rice Whiskey from the Andong Region)
59. Jogae Gui (Grilled Shellfish)
60. Haepari (Jellyfish)
61. Gyeran Jjim (Steamed Egg)
62. Corn Ice Cream
63. Dolsot Bibimbap (Mixed Rice and Vegetables in a Sizzling Stone Pot)
64. Mandu (Stuffed Dumplings)
65. Ddeokguk (Chewy Rice Cake Soup)
66. Songpyeon (Stuffed Chewy Rice Cakes)
67. Hot Bar (Fried Fish Batter Street Food)
68. Shikhye (Sweet Rice Punch)
69. Any product with Green Tea in it
70. Gujeolpan (Nine-sectioned Dish)
71. Yogurt Soju Cocktail
72. Baechu Kimchi (Cabbage Kimchi)
73. Any Kimchi that’s over 3 years old
74. Baek Kimchi (White Cabbage Kimchi)
75. Shake-’em-up Dosirak ( rice,dried seaweed, vegetables, chili paste and an egg)
76. Mul Kimchi (Water Kimchi)
77. Oi Sobagi (Stuffed Cucumber Kimchi)
78. Ggakdugi (Cubed Radish Kimchi)
79. Sae-u Jeot (Salted Tiny Shrimp)
80. Myeongran Jeot (Salted Pollack Roe)
81. Changran Jeot (Salted Pollack Guts)*
82. Ssamjang (Mixed Soybean and Pepper Paste)
83. Kalguksu (Hand-cut Noodle Soup)*
84. Ramyeon (Ramen Noodles) in a Tin Pot
85. Entire Hui Meal (Korean style Sashimi)
86. Gimbap (Seaweed Rice Rolls)
87. Jokbal (Pigs Feet)*
88. Sundae (Blood and Noodle Sausage)
89. Yeot (Traditional Korean Candy)
90. Naengi (Shepherd’s Purse sprouts)
91. Kimchi Jjigae (Kimchi Stew)
92. Budae Jjigae (“Army Base” Stew, traditionally including hot dogs and Spam)
93. Agu Jjim (Stewed Monkfish)
94. Haemultang (Seafood Soup)
95. Nurungji (Hot Water Mixed with Rice Scrapings in a Stone Pot)
96. Sujebi (Rustic dough flake soup)*
97. Janchi Guksu (Thin Noodles in a Seaweed Broth with Condiments)
98. BungeoBbang (Goldfish-shaped Stuffed Pastry)
99. Raw Ginseng or anything with Ginseng in it
100. MulHui (Chilled Sashimi Soup)*

HOGen-Dazs

I was good all week. Veggie omelettes for breakfast, chicken salads for lunch, fish for dinner. Come Sunday, I’d had enough.

All it took was two glasses of wine and the mention of chocolate, and next thing I knew, I was sitting at the Häagen-Dazs café in Hongdae, staring at an enormous plate of bite-sized cheesecake, brownies, fruit, and a full sampling of the ice cream chain’s most popular flavors. And as if this weren’t decadent enough, it was served alongside a giant bowl of melted chocolate.

It’s called “Sweet Fondue,” costs 30,000 won ($26), and instantly adds about 2-inches to your waistline.

*May not be available in the States.

Japan: Eat 'Til You Drop

Any culture celebrating some form of excess has a phrase to go along with it. In America, a country of consumers, it’s “shop ‘til you drop.” In Korea, a country of alcoholics and binge drinkers, it’s “drink ‘til you die.” And in Osaka, Japan, a town full of hard-working foodies, it’s “eat ‘til you fall down.”

Kuidaore, a phrase derived from the proverb, “dress (in kimonos) ‘til you drop in Kyoto, eat ‘til you drop in Osaka,” has become synonymous with the Japanese metropolis. It’s not uncommon for a businessman to spend all his earnings on food, nor to eat at three different restaurants in one night.

In fact, this is exactly what I did. And it’s exactly why I’m typing this wearing sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt.

Takoyaki (octopus dumplings), yakitori (grilled chicken parts), sushi, sashimi, udon and ramen. Soba, tempura and Okonomiyaki (a Japanese pancake containing anything from red ginger to bacon, topped with brown sauce, mayonnaise and bonito flakes). To say that Osaka (and Kyoto) had good food would be like saying the Louvre in Paris has some decent art on its walls.

Six days, five pounds on my ass. Totally worth it.


First meal in Kyoto: Yakitori.


Grilled chicken leg and chicken livers.


The yakitori chef's recommendation: chicken neck. Delicious!


The yakitori chef and me closing the restaurant down. He took me on a date the next night!


The soba noodles Tai Chi (the chef) tried to teach me how to slurp...I failed miserably.


The best sashimi I've ever had.



REAL ramen noodles are boiled egg noodles, not that fried shit you get in a bag with flavored powder. These came in a thick, rich pork broth with thin slices of pork on top.


My third meal of the night: eight plates of sushi!


An assortment of tempura.


Kushikatsu=basically anything you want, fried on a stick.



Homemade udon noodles wrapped in Kobe Beef=orgasm on a stick.


Yet another dish on a stick...this time? Octopus with a quail egg stuffed in its head. Not my favorite.


Pickled everything.


I went to a restaurant and pointed to four things on the menu. Since I can't read Japanese, I hoped for the best. One of the highlights: a soft-boiled egg.



Green tea ice cream was the perfect way to beat the heat. And it was available everywhere.


Outside a temple, okonomiyaki was being cooked and served by a high school boy.


The name "okonomiyaki" is derived from the word okonomi, meaning "what you like" or "what you want", and yaki meaning "grilled" or "cooked."


Osaka's famed Dotonbori Street.


Takoyaki, Japanese dumplings made of batter, diced octopus, tempura scraps, pickled ginger and green onion, topped with okonomiyaki sauce, ponzu, mayonnaise and fish shavings.


So hot.


Once I regained feeling in my mouth, I was able to conclude that these hot octopus balls were worth my trip to Osaka.


On my last night, in my fourth restaurant in Osaka, I met two 50-year-old Japanese businessmen. Although they didn't speak any English, our shared passion for Kuidaore led us to hours of eating and drinking. They even paid the bill.

The guide books were right: Great food, and even greater people.

A Chewy Chuseok

To celebrate Chuseok, Korea's harvest festival, my students attended school wearing traditional Korean clothes. They also made a traditional Chuseok treat called songpyeon, which is glutinous rice dough (tteok), filled with different kinds of sweet fillings. Today we used sesame seeds, sugar and beans. They came out very chewy, slightly sweet, and very sticky!