Dry and Squishy : A taste of Korean appetizers

Mmm…..pupae and dried fish. A few weeks ago Jess and I had the opportunity to sample some classic Korean culinary dishes (ah, alliteration) at a local Suji restaurant.

Most Korean meals usually start off with several different bowls of simple appetizers. Some of the appetizers that you regularly see include pickled radishes, kimchi, corn and mayonnaise salad, dry crunchy popcorn-like thingies and tiny flat fishy pancakes. These bowls of food are free of charge and served as soon as you sit down. Depending upon which snack you receive these can either whet your appetite for the main entrée or be pushed sadly next to the napkin holder and ashtray.

This particular restaurant we visited served stewed silkworm pupae and dried sardines as its appetizers. A little history here....from the first week of living in Korea we had heard about the silkworm pupae (called bundigie I believe) stew. We had seen the pots of pupae simmering among the other kettles and frying pans of the street food vendors. “Korean children love bundigie,” we were told time and time again, but to date, we had yet to give this dish a proper tasting. The pupae had finally found us.

We both ate four pupae and washed them down with three dried sardines (along with several Hite beers and a bottle of soju). Hmm, taste? How to describe it? The silkworm had a squishy mealy feel, mildly gritty like eating a juicy prune. Its taste wasn’t horrible, but not particular scrumptious either, earthy and dirty with a hint of woody flavor. The sardines were crunchy and fishy beyond belief. Granted, I know I am a little biased here not being a huge seafood fan, but even Jessushi agreed that they tasted like swamp fish. Dried cardboardy swamp fish.

We think we'll stick with the bulgogi and tyeokbokki for now....although there is a live baby octopus soup that might need some sampling.

Jess's take on Shanghai

We got back late last night from Shanghai, that notorious city that the West built in the East. (Well, to put it that way is to look only at the heart of the city, but it would take a longer trip than four days to do any
legitimate exploration of the parts of Shanghai that predate the economic boom and takeover by westerners in the mid-19th century.) It was a funny place for a first glimpse of China: on one hand, there are enough familiar elements to make it digestible for westerners in their first days of Asian travel, but on the other, unless you are Paris Hilton, sights like Prada and Louis Vitton stores on every other block don’t necessarily make you feel at home. The glitz is attractive, at least at first glance, but doesn’t do much to conceal the toxic haze that hangs over the city, even while the nearby countryside enjoys crystal-clear blue skies.

But I’m being unfair. After a few days there, my overall assessment of Shanghai is that its main tourist areas (the shopping areas on Nanjing Donglu, the main strip on HuaiHai in the French Concession, Yuyuan Bazaar, the Bund) don’t do much for me. They’re one part Gucci, one part Disney, one part pushy colonial Europe, and one part roaring, strapping capitalism and consumerism gone wild. However, once you take a step off your sightseeing agenda map, you’re confronted by one of two things: either a seedy, grimy, dilapidated city center grappling with urban decay and all the regular problems big cities have, or else a young, hip, vibrant, cosmopolitan metropolis with good food, good bars, good (small, independent) shops and general good living. Both of these are present and emerge visibly after a few days and some long walks between recommended tourist destinations, and both are preferable to the tourist destinations, if you ask me.

Absent in all this, it may seem, is the “authentic China” every tourist is probably seeking, and I know that’s there, too; the trick is to redefine authentic in a way that suits a coastal cosmopolis of 17 million. There is no way that a city like Shanghai won’t in many respects resemble cities like New York, Paris, or London, and that has nothing to do with the West infiltrating the East – it’s just a matter of huge cities attracting people and things from all over the world, and gradually blurring their cultural identities and converging on each other. And naturally, that’s why it’s senseless to visit Shanhai and feel that you know much about China, so the net result of this Chuseok getaway was to make me even more eager to see more of the country – particularly the interior. We had a chance to see a bit of China’s old village life when we visited a 900-year-old water town, Zhouzhuang, about an hour outside of Shanghai. This place was practically too charming to be real, so it would probably be a mistake to equate its painstakingly restored canals and bridges with regular small-town China, but it was nice to see an area that hadn’t been parceled up and developed by greedy European superpowers in the 1800’s.

It’s odd that I made it through three paragraphs without mentioning the huge visual impact that Shanghai makes when you arrive there for the first time – the skyscrapers, as you can see in photos, are otherworldly. The city must have more than 20 buildings that would be THE famous building in almost any other city I’ve visited. The new area, Pudong, is the most exceptional in this respect – I don’t think they’ve built anything on that side of the Huangpu river but skyscrapers – but even deep in Puxi, on the western “Old Shanghai” side of the river, it is easy to stumble from so much staring upward in awe. After all of my bitching about fancy malls and Gucci stores, you’d think I’d be disgusted by these colossal monuments to capitalism that are literally taxing the city’s foundations and causing it to sink into the ground, but no. I thought they were amazing, some of them truly beautiful (particularly the tallest building in China, the Jin Mao tower, which Chris and I were able to explore on two separate occasions – next time we go to Shanghai, we’re splurging on its Hyatt, the highest hotel in the world), and others ridiculous (i.e. the Pearl tower, the one with those silly pink balls that’s in the foreground in most of the photos) but still striking.

So, this post is getting unappealingly long, but anyone who reads it and doesn’t know much about China may be confused by the same thing that baffled me the entire time I was there. Isn’t China a communist country? I’ve been trying to figure that out, and my conclusion is that I don’t really know what a communist country is. China, I believe, still calls itself communist – the nation is founded on and still maintains its support of “communist ideals” and is governed by the Communist Party – but in effect it is neither communist nor even socialist at this point. Free enterprise is the rule, with Chinese citizens owning their own property and controlling their own income. From what I hear, taxation is quite low, much lower than in the US and many other nations. And everything we saw in Shanghai seemed to support this fact – compared to Cuba, for example, a nation that still acts and feels communist in many respects, China seemed as capitalist as any country I’ve seen. The fancy malls and fine restaurants I’ve already mentioned were certainly not built solely for the tourists; on the contrary, they were frequented largely by Chinese. I read a bit on the Internet trying to find an answer to this question, and learned that Chinese citizens are not restricted from traveling abroad, either (not that this is a prerequisite of communist leadership, but it was one of the facets of the Cuban system that we found shocking and objectionable). Apparently, after Mao died, his successors started the economic reform that has enabled China to become the fourth-largest economy in the world, and that allows the Chinese to benefit directly from the profits their industry is generating (although that last part is kind of a chicken-or-the-egg statement . . . their ability to benefit may have caused the profits to be generated in the first place, right?).

Anyway, in the interest of posting this before January, I’ll stop here. Obviously, I’ve barely begun to learn about China, and with any luck our plans to spend a few weeks there next June will pan out and we’ll have more first-hand education. I had meant to say a few things about Chinese characters and our brief introduction to them, but suffice it to say that if 90% of the Chinese are literate and can read those things, I have no doubt that they are capable of just about anything.

Finally: good sushi in Korea

After two botched attempts to go back to my sushi-guzzling ways, I was finally satisfied last Friday. The first time I tried what appeared to be sushi here, it cost about $4 for a whole plate (that should have tipped me off right away), and when it arrived it was in the form of unidentifiable fish in frozen ice-cube blocks. Needless to say, it took some soju to wash that down. The second time was at a Japanese fast-food place (again, shouldn't that have warned me?) and the rice was chewy, the fish seemed to be made of plastic, although with a more suspicious odor, and the entire experience made me wonder once again how Seattle sushi could be so much better than sushi here, in the country next door to Japan. Then Chris asked Robin, our friend and assistant principal, where to go -- Manami, Robin's wife, is Japanese. Sure enough, they sent us to a restaurant that was both delicious and inexpensive, in the Yatap area right off our Bundang line of the subway. This is one of those conveyor belt places, which I generally distrust. We didn't realize that there was a regular menu, so we ate off the belt and I was delighted. The fatty tuna was cheap (about $3.50 - it costs at least $6 at home) and incredibly good. Chris was not quite as thrilled, as he tends to forage for cooked items on the sushi menu, so he was forced to entertain himself with miso soup and the huge mug of sake that we accidentally double-ordered. Anyway, the availability of good sushi is an element of me feeling comfortable anywhere, so this was an important night. The trick is to go Japanese and avoid fast-food - unfortunately, we've seen no evidence thus far that Korean sushi can serve up the types or grades of fish that we want.
By: Jess

* Expect a post soon from Chris, if we can figure out how to get Blogger.com to come up in English instead of Korean on his computer!

Not tasty, but productive sushi

It's not often you would want to post your feet on a blog, however, when they are being devoured by hundreds of fish an exception must be made. Two weeks ago Jess and I and several friends visited a fish doctor spa in Gangnam.

A neighborhood located just south of the Han river, Gangnam is the modern business district of Seoul. New and semi-ritzy, it is an area known for its flashy restaurants and celebrity sightings (Oooo, was that Rain I just saw!). It also contains the Fish Doctor Spa.

I'm pretty sure that is not the establishment's name, I foolishly forgot to look for the name as we ascended the second story of the building that housed the spa. Inside is a cafe that serves coffee, tea, cakes and gelatto (no beer or soju unfortunately) and three aquariums built into the floor. A one drink minimum plus 2000 won (around 2$) gets your feet 20 minutes in one of the aquariums.

Each one of these aquariums house hundreds of Garra rufa fish. This freshwater fish, also called the nibble fish or doctor fish, is naturally found throughout rivers in Turkey and is a part of the carp family.

They range in size from 5 to 8cm and do not have any real teeth, but what they lack in dental work they more than make up for in appetite. They chow down on dead skin and what better place to feast than on our callused feet.

A novelty spa....yes, but does it still feel good....a resounding yes! It feels a bit like having one's feet massaged and gently tickled by hundreds of fingers. Combine that with the weird laughter factor in waching one's submerged calves and feet get worked over by hundreds of starving minnows and you have a wonderful way of finishing off an evening out in Seoul. Now if they'd only serve beer....

Supposedly there are total body spas (bathing suits required) where the fish get to go to town on all of you from the neck down. As of yet, alas, we have not found that Neptunic eden. Anyway, when you come over for a visit make sure not to wash those feet for several weeks beforehand, we have a bunch of hungry fish ready to dine.

The Blog is Born

A few months ago, my mom gave me what seemed like a reasonable excuse to start a blog. Being someone who likes to hear herself talk, I'd always kind of wanted to have one, but blogs are so self-indulgent, right? But Mom insisted. "It's a great idea -" she said, "you're moving to Korea. Everyone will want to keep up with you." The thing is, I get the feeling that the "everyone" she was referring to is actually just her. But that's OK; if the grand unveiling of the much-procrastinated blog is a private party for Mom and me, we'll both enjoy it anyway.

Chris and I have lived in Korea for 54 days now, and there's been too much going on to start this page up before now. We've successfully moved in to a new home, started new jobs, and met some amazing people (in the course of those successes, I've also picked up a serious Limewire addiction, but that's a confession for another post). We've also begun the process of adapting to a new culture, and finally started Korean classes a couple weeks ago.

As much as I'd like to say that learning Korean was a breeze and that we could already converse proficiently with our neighbors in the Woomi Apartment complex, the truth is far less impressive. We spent some time before Chris went to sleep tonight practicing such advanced phrases as, "How many pencils are there?" and "Do you have a dictionary?" We haven't even learned any curse words yet. It's good for me to get a taste of how my students feel during the first few weeks of Spanish I: it's an unnerving sensation when our teacher, Anne, starts singling us out during class and asking us questions in Korean at an alarming speed. But that discomfort, and the discomfort we feel when we endure a meal that is not even close to what we wanted to order, is what will push us to keep learning. Unlike my students, we have the opportunity to walk to the grocery store after each class and practice what we've learned.

We love Korea. The trees and hiking trails everywhere, good public transportation and infrastructure, logical alphabet, delicious street food, strange mix of modern and ancient buildings, and proximity to all kinds of exotic destinations have done much to win us over. At work, our respectful, worldly students and outgoing colleagues make us grateful that we found such a welcoming community. And of course, the senseless English translations (see "With You Smile" in the margin, or consider our favorite bar names - "Loss Time," right across the street, and "Keep Your Proud" down the road), ridiculous driving, and Hello Kitty-style cartoons that decorate even the most no-nonsense construction site give us much to laugh about and marvel at when we begin to forget that we're in a new and very foreign hemisphere. Of course, coming from a home as heavenly as Seattle, there are things to miss, but other than friends and weather they are surprisingly few.

The Chuseok holiday, sort of a Korean Thanksgiving, began today for us, and we celebrated by sleeping until 1 p.m. in a much-needed attempt to catch up after a busy week at work. Now it's 1:22 a.m. and although there is much to add to this initial post, I need to get to sleep so that I don't spend Sunday in bed. Monday morning we brave China for the first time, on a short trip to Shanghai, and we're looking forward to seeing how Korea compares to its behemoth neighbor to the west. I (or Chris, if he can be persuaded to overcome the inherent dorkiness of blogging) will try to update this thing regularly. If no one reads it (other than you, Mom), at least we'll have a journal to record our time in Korea.