dog days of summer

Today, 14 July, is the hottest day of the year. Or rather, it should be, according to the lunar calendar. Current weather conditions: rainy, windy, 25 degrees.

Today is called Chobok, first hottest day. It’s the first of three “hottest days of the year” during a period known as Sambok. The three collective “hottest days” (Chobok, Jungbok, middle hottest day, and Malbok, final hottest day) are called boknal, which translates to “dog days.” The non-Korean world also has the expression “Dog Days of Summer” to describe the hottest days of the year; a reference to the dog star, Sirius, or maybe just the fact that both dogs and people get lazy when it’s ridiculously hot outside. But Koreans take the expression to a whole new level: traditionally, people eat dog soup, called boshintang.

Today, though, most people eat a special soup, samgyetang, which is a full chicken stuffed with rice and ginger, boiled in a mild broth. It’s a hot soup—a seemingly odd choice for such a hot day. But Koreans like to eat hot food on hot days because sweat cools the skin, while the heat warms the inside. Today may not have been a hot day, but the rain and wind didn’t stop people from waiting outside samgyetang restaurants under their umbrellas, just so they could get a taste. Rain or shine, tradition is tradition. And chicken soup just tastes good.

street food

seoul food

“give me deliciously”

I started volunteering at a soup kitchen for homeless men a few months ago and recently began showing up every Friday evening as a regular thing. I mean, I love to eat, they need to eat—it’s a good match.

I have different tasks every week. Sometimes I wash cutlery (here that means spoons and chopsticks, of course), sometimes I serve food, and this week I served the soup. As the soup-giver is at the end of the line, thus the last server the men meet before they head to find an empty seat at the tables, I asked a Korean how to say, “Enjoy your meal,” and repeated that line to all the men who received my soup.

“Mashi-kay juseyo!”

At the end of our service, when the lined had disappeared and our soup had become a lifeless broth, I asked the Korean guy to explain what the sentence actually meant. I’m always curious to know how sentences translate in other languages, like how in Twi (one of the main languages in Ghana), the expression equivalent to “Come back” (Ko bra) actually translates to “Go come.” Or in French, Bonjour (“Hello”) literally means “Good day.”

“What was I saying to everyone? What does that actually mean?” I asked.

“‘Enjoy your meal,’” he said.

“No, no. I mean, what does each of those words mean, individually? Because I know ‘juseyo’ means something like ‘want’ or ‘give’ so—”

“‘Duseyo’ means ‘eat,’” he said. “Oh! No, no! Not ‘juseyo.’ ‘Duseyo!’“

“What? Oh…oops.”

“‘Mashi’ is ‘deliciously’ and ‘duseyo’ is ‘eat’ so the sentence is, ‘Eat deliciously.’”

“But I was actually saying, ‘Give me deliciously’?” I asked. “We’re giving food to homeless men and here I am saying, ‘Give me your food!’ That’s a pretty awkward and unfortunate mistake to make!” We had a good laugh before my friend told me that the men probably didn’t hear the difference and if they did, probably understood what I was trying to say. But, other than that little speed bump, I’ve been enjoying volunteering at the soup kitchen.

It’s interesting to see the different characters who stop in. Some are regulars, some come only once. Some are pushy and others polite. Some practice English by saying “Thank you” to me, while others don’t even look me in the eye. Some are disheveled and dirty. Some look like they just came in from the office, which maybe they did.

Co-workers at the kitchen tell me that, with the economy the way it is now, there’s a number of people who work during the day and then have no where to go home to. I still don’t understand how someone can have no one to turn to, no where to go in their tough times—it’s just something that will never make sense to me, I guess. Just shows how lucky I am, how much I have to be thankful for.

“the hills are alive, with the smell of kimchi”

Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations (Korea)
originally aired: 12 June 2006

Part 1: arrival in Seoul, street food & a fish market

Part 2: taekwondo demo & learning how to make kimchi

Part 3: going fishing, dinner with Grandpa & arcade games

Part 4: DVD bang (DVD room), more street food & noraebang (singing room)

Part 5: hangover soup, Korean barbeque & a family dinner

got beef?

Despite the massive demonstrations just a few months ago, American beef is on the rise here in Korea. Imports resumed on 1 July, after a five-year hiatus, and since then it has taken hold of 20% of the market. Australian beef still reigns with its 60% share, but American beef is already the second most popular beef import.

On 2 July, Han Seung-soo, the Prime Minister of Korea, ordered American beef (worth 260 000 won) for him and his family in a high-profile dinner. He did so to help remove the stigma of US beef and show the people that it was safe.

In late June, the Korean TV channel MBC, whose program “PD Notebook” needlessly informed its viewers that Korean were more susceptible to BSE than other ethnic groups, issued an apology for the misinformation, stating it was a “translation error.” This came after a month of pressure of journalists and politicians who say this program really increased Koreans’ paranoia about eating American beef. This apology wasn’t good enough, though, and, in mid-August, the channel was court-ordered to apologize on-air and say that it deliberately exaggerated some information and created some mistranslations.

Now, just three months after imports resumed, it’s not an issue that I ever hear about anymore. My question is, when will Canadian beef be allowed back into Korea?

korean food: it’s delicious

Beside being healthy, Korean food is darn tasty. There are a few standout dishes that I particularly love: bibimbap and gogi gui.

Bibimbap (mixed rice) is just what the name suggests: a bowl of white rice served with a variety of ingredients, such as lettuce, carrots, soybean sprouts, daikon (radish), mushrooms, and pepper paste, then topped with a fried egg.

Each type of ingredient is served in a group (as in my students’ drawing), making for a colourful presentation. Everything has to be stirred and mixed very well before eating it—something Koreans like to tease foreigners about when they first try it.

It sounds weird (at least it did to me when I first heard of it), but it’s really good—a recipe I will be taking home with me!

Gogi gui (grilled meat, known as “Korean barbeque”) is definitely my favourite Korean food. What separates Korean barbeque from other barbeques is the grill. In Korea, it’s not found in the backyard—it’s on your table.

Enter the restaurant and take a seat; you’ll notice the grill is built into the centre of the table. Ask the server for your choice of meat, maybe bulgogi (beef), galbi (pork or beef ribs), or samgyeopsal (pork). Cut the meat into bite-sized portions with scissors before placing it on the sizzling grill. As you chat, carefully turn the pieces over until they’re ready. When they’re crisp (and the smell of barbequed meat is too much to handle), dig in. Grab a leaf of lettuce, use your chopsticks to take a piece of meat off the grill and place it in the middle, and then grab other pieces from the buncheon (sidedishes) and add them on top of the meat. Fold the lettuce over and stuff it into your mouth. Cheers with a shot of soju and a shout of “Kanbae!“

Eating at Korean barbeque restaurant is not a meal—it’s an experience.

korean food is “good for health”

Koreans are obsessed with “health.” Diet, exercise—it’s a daily part of Korean culture. Outdoor gyms (which deserve their own article later) can be seen at apartment complexes, city parks, and at the tops of Seoul’s many mountains. My students constantly chat about body shapes (which, again, need their own explanation). Perhaps their greatest concern, though, is healthy food.

Me: [eating crackers at my desk at work]
Mr. Lee: [looks at me without saying a word]
Me: Uh, hi, Mr. Lee.
Mr. Lee: I heard on the news that these [crackers] are not good for health.
Me: Oh really? What makes them unhealthy?
Mr. Lee: I don’t know. I only heard they are not good for health.

By hearing crackers (mine were unsalted soda crackers, by the way) are not “good for health,” I’m pretty sure that Mr. Lee—and anyone else who watched that news program—will never eat crackers again.

They have nothing to worry about, though, because any Korean will proudly tell you that they have the healthiest food in the world.

When I first arrived in Korea, my co-workers kept telling me that kimchi, a fermented cabbage (or other vegetable) dish, was one of the top 5 healthiest foods in the world. I kept laughing it off, thinking, Okay, it’s healthy. But it’s not like there’s an official list or anything. But ask a Korean, and they will tell you there is.

Health magazine published an article listing the “World’s Healthiest Foods” a few years ago and kimchi made the cut, along with lentils from India, yogurt from Greece, Japanese soy, and Spain’s olive oil. The magazine attributes its “healthiness” to its large doses of Vitamins A, B, and C, as well as it’s “healthy bacteria,” lactobacilli.

Most Koreans eat kimchi with every meal and attribute their personal health to this dish. In fact, I was told that Korea did not experience a SARS outbreak because of kimchi. “Kimchi kept Koreans strong,” I was told.

don’t walk and text

I recently read a funny (yet serious) article about texting injuries. The article discussed a new trend of texting-related injuries, ranging from scrapes to concussions to even a couple reported deaths. Apparently texting and walking (not to mention biking, horseback riding, cooking, and driving) do not mix well.

This is an important message for Koreans, who I’ve noticed are text-crazy. While dining with Korean friends, I’ve noticed cell phones are placed on the table for easy access. It’s common (and apparently acceptable) to message others while out for dinner. Even at work, teachers are non-stop texting during breaks. Do I even mention those times when I hear people receiving texts on the toilet? I mean really, take a break!

And with all that texting, add in some ridiculous Korean driving and you have a potential disaster. Sidewalks here in the city double as parking lots and express delivery lanes, which can make just walking home from work a challenging task. Not to mention the brick sidewalks, as pretty as they are, add an extra danger for those of us who don’t like to lift our feet up very high when we walk and thus trip over the corners more frequently than one would like to admit. Really, it’s not so hard to see just how dangerous walking and texting in Seoul can be.

it’s on me

To celebrate my friend’s birthday, I invited her out for dinner. We got all dressed up and met in Gangnam for a nice meal. Like usual, she didn’t want to pick the restaurant, but I reminded her that this was her day and she should get to choose. She decided on a nice Italian bistro and we enjoyed a great dinner together to celebrate her 24th.

Then the bill came. Who pays?

There are two rules in Korea when it comes to paying the bill: 1) The one who invites, pays for everyone; 2) The birthday-person pays for everyone.

We argued over it for a bit. She said it was her birthday and she should pay, to which I countered that I invited her out AND it was her birthday, so I should pay. It got a little tougher when she played the “culture” card and told me that Koreans usually pay for the meal on their birthdays. I tossed the culture card right back at her and said that in Canada, we like to take our friends out for their birthday. It was tough battle of cultures, but my stubbornness paid off in the end and the meal was on me.

Like many Korean traditions, things are changing with this generation. While custom states that the inviter pays for everyone’s meal, that doesn’t happen when I go out with Korean friends my age; we split the bill evenly. That works well when the custom is to share food, like at a galbi (Korean barbeque) restaurant. However, with older co-workers or especially school dinners with the principal, I know that the meal is taken care of for me. I just remember to serve the beers (being the youngest in the group, that’s my job) and repeat many thanks before I head out.