And, I'm Off!

It;s 5:10 am on March 1, and I'm about to leave Korea and start my backpacking adventure. I bought a one-way ticket to Bangkok without much of a plan... Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam, perhaps? Maybe I'll make it to Singapore to visit the hawker centers? Jungle trekking in Malaysia? Relaxing on the beaches in Bali? I really don't know what's in store for me.

But I do know I'll be eating. A lot. Stay tuned.

P.S. I tried Sannakji (live octopus) and Boshintang (dog soup) over the weekend! Had trouble posting my videos, but I will make sure to put them up when I return. Post soon!

It's Alive!

I finally ate 산낙지 (Sannakji), or live octopus, this weekend! I would love to write a detailed report on my encounter with the slimy, slippery sea creature, but I don't have time. I leave for Thailand in less than 36 hours and need to pack. Plus, I think the video says it all.

Fish Guts and Egg Sacs

Yes, you read that correctly. Fish guts. And egg sacs. Together. In a bowl.

It's called Altang, and it's apparently a pretty popular soup in Korea; although I hadn't heard of it until last weekend.

My friend Jason had invited me to spend the weekend at his house in a village two hours outside of Seoul. "I'm warning you, there's absolutely nothing to do there," he said. "But you have to see what I've been complaining about for the past year."

"With the amount you've complained about it, it better be bad," I replied.

It was.

Mold, no insulation, walls so thin you could hear the Chinese teacher's Skype conversations (the school divided the house into two "apartments") and a shower reminiscent of the one I used on a train in China.

Did I mention the house is on campus? Oh, and that it's an hour away from a coffee shop?

"Well, at least there's a good restaurant down the street," Jason said. "You can try this soup they're famous for: fish guts soup. My co-teachers ordered it for me my first week here."

Jason, if you're reading this, your school is testing you. The accommodation, the village, the soup. Get out now!

Ok, I know I'm being a bit dramatic. The soup wasn't that bad. It's just not something I'd want on my third day in Korea. Well, it's not really something I'd want ever again.

It wasn't the flavor. Give me a spicy fish stew any day. Throw in some bean sprouts, radishes, green onions and straw mushrooms, and I'll lick the bowl. But add some pollock fish innards...

It looked like little brains and testicles floating in a broth of blood. And it tasted just as strange. The fish egg sacs (the things that looked like testicles) were like mealy hot dogs with a thick casing. The intestines (the things that looked like brains) actually reminded me of ramen noodles--pretty tasteless. Both had a strange smell that I still cannot put my finger on.

Jason looked at me, smiling. "I know, it's strange," he said. "But it's something that grows on you. And since this is the nicest restaurant in town, I've had a lot of time to get used to the taste."

All I have to say is, good luck to you, Jason. And congratulations for surviving a year in that village.

Korea's Hangover Cure: Haejangguk

I've had plenty of hangovers while living in Seoul. Hell, I've had plenty of hangovers everywhere I've lived. But there's something about drinking soju that really takes the next day's headache and nausea to another level.

Thankfully the same people who created this evil alcohol also created a remedy for its wrath: haejangguk (해장국).

Often called "hangover soup," haejangguk refers to all kinds of guk (soup) eaten as a hangover cure in Korean cuisine. The most popular variety seems to be a thick stew consisting of meaty pork spine, spinach, cabbage, onions and congealed ox blood in a spicy beef broth.

Sound like something you want to eat after a long night of drinking?

Me neither. And a few weekends ago, while curled up at the edge of the bed, my friend's suggestion to do so had me dry heaving into a trash can.

"Congealed ox blood?" I said. "Whatever happened to saltines and Gatorade?"

"Get over it and get dressed," my friend said to me. "You're a food blogger now. Plus, saltines are for college kids."

Fifteen minutes later I found myself in front of the haejangguk restaurant, staring at the huge bubbling pots of soup in the window. And about an hour after that, I found myself able to walk upright, without the giant sunglasses and painful expression on my face.

Was it the miracle soup? The all-powerful kimchi? Or was it just the fresh air?

I don't know. And I don't care. I just know that the haejangguk was much better than a box of flavorless white crackers.

Kongbul

It amazes me that I've been here for a year and a half and am still discovering new dishes.

Last night, my friend Yong-Kyu took me to dinner in the Konkuk University area. "I want to take you to a restaurant I like, but I am nervous," he said. "It might be too spicy. And if you don't like it, my feeling is bad."

I rolled my eyes. "Young-Kyu, it's me you're talking about. I like everything."

And, of course, I was right.

We went to a place called Kongbul (콩불), a popular Korean chain serving only a few variations of the same dish--Kongbul. Its name comes from the Korean word for sprouts: kongnamul (콩나물) and the Korean word for beef: bulgogi (불고기). Add an entire squid, thick udon-like noodles, sesame leaves and a red spicy sauce, and you've got the restaurant's namesake.

We were about 3/4 of the way done with the meal when a restaurant employee came to our table with a deep bowl of rice, sesame leaves, sesame seeds and dried seaweed. He dumped it over what remained of our kongnamul and mixed the ingredients over a high flame until it became what's known as bokkeumbap (볶음밥).

I took a bite and smiled at the server. "Mashisseyo," I said. Delicious.

He looked surprised. "Where is she from?" he asked Yong-Kyu in Korean.

"She's American," he said back, smiling.

The server laughed. "Nan dangsin-i saeng-gaghaneun hanguk-eo," he said to me.

I think you are Korean.


Restaurant Information:
Name: Kongbul (콩불)
Location: Scattered throughout Korea. Check out the website to find specific locations. It's in Korean, so if you can't read Hangul, have a Korean friend help. Or, you could always roam the streets of Seoul shouting, "Kongbul eodi-ay-yo?" (Where is Konbul?) Someone's bound to point you in the right direction.
http://www.kongbul.com/