Something to Tteok About

Lunar New Year isn't until next week, but that hasn't stopped the parents from sending celebratory goodies for the past five days. Well, I shouldn't say goodies; more like goody. There's only one way to celebrate the Korean New Year, and it's with tteok (떡).

Tteok is a type of rice cake. And no, I'm not talking about the puffed variety Quaker puts out. I'm talking about the sticky, chewy kind made from glutinous rice flour, usually filled with sweet red bean paste.

There's actually hundreds of different kinds of tteok in Korea. Tteok stuffed with mung bean, tteok stuffed with red bean, tteok stuffed with sesame seeds and honey. There's bars of tteok layered with jujube and other dried fruits, tteok mixed with pine nuts and sweet potatoes. There's rainbow tteok, tteok made with makgeolli (unfiltered rice wine). There's tteok that's been pan-fried, and tteok that's been boiled with spicy red peppers. There's even tteok guk, a soup centered around the chewy rice cake.

I hated the stuff when I got here. "What a waste of calories," I remember saying. "It tastes like nothing, and it has the consistency of Play-doh."

But, much like my relationship with red wine, the more I tried it the more I liked it. And now, (just like my relationship with red wine), I may like it a little too much.

Think back to when you were a kid. At one time or another you probably had a Play-doh cooking set where you made delicious looking Play-doh pizza and Play-doh pancakes. You probably looked at your creations and thought, I wonder what this tastes like... What would happen if I sunk my teeth into that chewy hunk of clay? Well, I went past the wondering stage and actually took a bite of the salty, rubbery ball of dough. And after rinsing my mouth with Scope about a dozen times, my mother made a permanent switch to peanut butter mixed with powdered milk.

I had forgotten all about this incident until I took my first bite of tteok. "This is a traditional rice cake snack," my co-teacher said as she handed me a box of what looked like truffles. "Most foreigners do not like. It's very chewy."

Chewy does not describe what tteok is. It's beyond chewy. It surpasses rubbery. It sticks to your teeth and your fingers. It takes about a minute to swallow. It's one of the strangest textural foods I've ever eaten.

But that's why I've grown to love it. It's the only thing other than Play-doh that has that I-can-barely-bite-through-this consistency. And for me, that's what brings me back for more. It's all about the texture. That is, until you throw some chestnut paste and sour cherries in the middle. That's when I lock myself in my room with the box and eat tteok for dinner.

So if you haven't already, put down the bag of Quaker caramel cakes, head to your nearest Asian market, and discover what the term "rice cake" means to the other half of the world.

Strange Love: Dotorimuk

Dotorimuk is basically mashed-up acorns that have been turned into Jell-O and dressed with soy sauce and sesame oil. It's a very popular side dish in Korea, particularly among hikers...not so much foreigners.

Except for me, that is. I love this stuff. I pray for it to be part of the day's school lunch. I cross my fingers that it's served with dinner. I sometimes have dreams where I high dive into a pool of it, then paddle for hours with my mouth open until every drop is gone.

Yeah, I know. I'm weird. I should be dreaming of hunky, shirtless men riding white horses; declarations of everlasting love after the first date; a white wedding on a sandy beach.

But for some reason, acorn jelly is just so much more appealing.

A Meal to Remember

I spent the majority of Saturday afternoon in bed, pants unbuttoned, my sweater smelling of roasted duck. I wore an evil smile on my face.

I had finally tried the dish I'd been eyeing for a year and a half: a roasted Korean pumpkin, stuffed with yakbap (glutinous rice sweetened with honey or brown sugar, mixed with chestnuts, jujubes and pine nuts), on top of a whole roasted duck and caramelized onions.

My obsession with this dish started the week I arrived in Seoul; though I remember it like it was yesterday...

My roommates were walking me to the subway station for the first time. I was staring at all the foreign letters and signs, wondering what they meant. I was asking questions about singing rooms, PC cafes, restaurants with fish tanks outside their doors. I wanted to know about the history of the neighborhood, where to go for a good cup of coffee, how much it would cost to ride the subway.

Then, suddenly, my questions stopped. I froze, silent...succumbing to the savory smell of roasted duck. My roommates were blocks ahead before they turned around and saw me. Drooling. Arms stretched out, inches from touching a pristine glass case holding several dozen plump birds. My eyes glazed over as I stared at the slowly spinning ducks, counting the seconds between oil drippings.

"Jen?" my roommates called out. "What are you doing?"

I walked towards them in a fog, staring at the patrons through the restaurant's windows, crowded around large cast iron pots full of ducks and pumpkins.

"What is that?" I managed from my gaping mouth. "Are they eating entire pumpkins?"

"I don't know," said my roommate Kyle. "We've never been there before."

"Well, we've got to go there, and soon. I have to know what they're eating. And I have to try that duck."

But kimchi, bibimbap, noodles, mandu, galbi and a myriad of soups got in the way. And before I knew it, Kyle and the rest of my roommates had boarded planes heading west.

"You know we never tried that duck place," my roommate Chris reminded me the day he left. "You have to go there and tell me all about it."

Well, Chris, I finally did it. I went to the mysterious duck and pumpkin place and had myself a meal to remember. A meal that I'm sure I'll remember for the rest of my life. One that I will tell my grandchildren about as I sip chocolate pudding through a straw.

A roasted hobak, stuffed with sweet, starchy rice, mixed with soft chestnuts, jujube fruits, pine nuts and honey. A pumpkin so perfect it fell apart with the chopsticks, but held up to the sweet rice. Under the pumpkin was a sliced duck from the glass rotisserie case. The meat was so tender you didn't need to chew. And the layer of fat was seasoned with black sesame seeds and magic. Then, under the duck was a layer of onions, which over the course of the meal, caramelized with the fat from the duck.

To say this meal was worth the wait is silly. I should've busted through those glass doors and told my roommates to go on without me. I wouldn't have cared if I couldn't find my way home. I'd be completely content living out the rest of my days eating pumpkin and savoring the smell of perfectly roasted duck.



Restaurant Information:
바비아띠(장안점)
02-2216-5292
Janganpyeong Station (Line 5), Exit 3. Walk straight for about 5 minutes and the restaurant will be on the right. Look for a duck rotisserie outside and glass jars filled with magical-looking liquids lining the windows.

Jennifer Cooks: Dakdoritang (닭도리탕)

I'm off the crutches and in the mood to cook! I found a really easy Dakdoritang (닭도리탕) recipe on seouleats.com and decided to make it last night. Daktdoritang is basically a really spicy chicken stew, perfect for heating your body on a cold winter night, or for clearing out your sinuses.

Here's the recipe so you can try it yourself:


Ingredients

(Yield: 4 Servings)

* 8 chicken pieces (thighs, breasts or drumsticks are best)
* 4 medium sized potatoes
* 2 onions
* 1 carrot
* 2 jalapenos (optional)
* 2 tbsp minced garlic
* 2 tbsp gochujang (hot pepper paste)
* 2 tbsp gochugaru (red pepper flakes)
* 2 tbsp soy sauce
* 1 tsp sugar
* 2 tsp sesame oil
* 2 green onions
* 1 tbsp ginger
* 2 cups of water
* Salt and pepper


Cooking Directions

1. Peel potatoes and cut them in half. Then cut each half into four quarters (8 pieces)
2. Cut onions the same way as the potatoes
3. Peel carrot and cut it into lengths about the same size as its width. Cut each slice into four quarters
4. Slice jalapenos (optional)
5. In a heavy pot, combine all ingredients except green onions
6. Cover and cook for 30-40 minutes over a medium flame
7. Sprinkle salt and pepper to taste
8. Chop and add scallions to simmer for 5 additional minutes
9. Serve hot with rice (This is optional. I personally think the potatoes offer enough starch.)

Enjoy!

Hobak Hummus

With only seven weeks left in Korea, I thought I'd want to stuff my face with as much kimchi as possible. And while I'm getting my daily fill of fermented cabbage, all I can think of is American food.

Well, let me clarify. I'm not sitting around daydreaming of Big Macs and french fries. I'm thinking about caesar salads. Enchiladas. Medjool dates. Goat cheese. Greek yogurt drizzled with honey. Hummus with warm pita. I could go on, but I'm writing this at a coffee shop, and I'm drooling. People are starting to stare.

My point: You can't find these things in Korea. There's no lunch cafe serving salads and sandwiches down the street. The variety of cheese consists of processed cheese squares and string cheese. And yogurt is sold as a sugary sweet liquid in milk cartons.

So in order to satisfy at least one of my cravings, I turned to my friend Amanda Mohlenhoff. Since she's been living in Seoul as a vegetarian for two years, I knew she'd have a few tricks up her sleeves for making some killer hummus. And since she's a whiz in the kitchen, I knew she'd offer a recipe that didn't require a hike to the foreign food market for canned chick peas.

She not only delivered, but gave me a recipe that will be a staple for future house parties. Substituting pumpkin (a Korean hobak) for chick peas was not only convenient, but it allowed for a creamier, slightly sweeter version of my beloved Mediterranean spread. Enjoy!

Pumpkin Hummus

Ingredients:
1 pumpkin (Korean hobak), peeled and steamed (For those living outside Korea, a small pumpkin or canned pumpkin should work fine)
2 TBSP tahini, or 5-6 TBSP of sesame seeds, crushed
2 TBSP soy sauce
1-2 cloves garlic
3 TBSP olive oil*
2 TBSP cumin powder
Juice of one lemon, or to taste
Salt to taste
Crushed red pepper to taste

Directions:

Cool the steamed pumpkin and put it in a blender (or you can just mash it up). Puree the pumpkin, garlic, tahini and oil in batches until smooth and creamy. Transfer to a bowl and add the soy sauce, lemon juice, salt, cumin and red pepper.

You can also add chopped green gochu peppers (the Korean jalapenos) for extra spice, or a chopped scallion or two for more onion flavor. *The more oil you add, the thinner and creamier it will get.

You can probably guess that this recipe is very flexible. Feel free to play around with seasonings and measurements to fit your taste.


Just because it's in tupperware doesn't mean I can't make it look festive!

A New Year, A New Resolution

Every year it's the same thing: Lose weight, workout more, eat better.

Maybe it's living in Korea, or maybe it's working with 6-year-olds who adore me no matter what; but I've finally realized that these goals are bullshit. So, in honor of the new year, I'm posting my students' resolutions for 2011.

1. Donna: To make a book
2. Jeffrey: To make a helicopter out of Legos
3. Thomas: To learn magic
4. Micky: To be a good soccer player
5. Cameron: To get a dog
6. Andy: To make a car out of Legos
7. Francisco: To make a motorcycle out of Legos
8. Raphael: To become a magician
9. Peter: To make a top
10. Jelly: To learn hard ballet positions
11. Alice: To be a good student
12. Jimmy: To drive a bus

And lastly, my New Years Resolution: To love my body just the way it is--cellulite and all. It might not be as easy as, say, making a helicopter out of Legos, but I'll do my best.