Seoul Food pI: Eating Through Tokyo <1000¥
I have been asleep my whole life, and have just been awoken by the magic of Korean food. Over the winter break, I went to South Korea armed with only a list of dishes I wanted to try and an Instagram explore page (still) full of Korean food. I stayed with my girl Yasmin and her family, who took on this list on with the (appropriate) importance of a mission on which all of civilization rests. Yasmin and I were full for seven days straight. It’s too much goodness to be able to fit into one post — this is part 1 of 2 special posts about what I ate. Let me acknowledge quickly: I wasn’t technically just in Seoul, but the évident and tacky pun wasn’t one I could say no to. Also I’m not an expert, merely an enthusiast of Korean food. If I get things wrong lmk.
This week is dedicated to my three favorite dishes. Let me tell you, I felt like a mother choosing her favorite children. We’ve got dakgalbi, jajangmyeon, and naengmyeon. So delicious and different, if I could only eat these three dishes for the rest of my life I’d feel great about my future.
Dakgalbi, in layman’s terms, is chicken breast in a spicy marinade, cooked on a communal screaming-hot skillet along with other goodies (that we’ll go over later). When you’re full to the brim of this goodness, you can sop up that extra sauce with rice, cooked crispy on the same skillet. It’s the meal that keeps on giving. I am prone to speak in hyperbole, especially when it comes to food. No joke, though: this was one of the best meals of my life. Not only was the food itself unbelievably delicious, but the eating experience is also super awesome — from eating Korean-style from the same skillet to sitting on the warm floor to eat. For those of you want a more in-depth walkthrough of the emotional journey, I’ve got a lil’ bonus material here.
Yasmin’s parents have been eating at Traditional Choochun Dakgalbi (정통춘천닭갈비) for twenty years they tell me — they knew it was good before everyone else did. Waiting for a table to free up in the biting cold, I wished it was still a secret. When we walk in, the smell of spicy sizzling chicken already starts to stick to our clothes as we take off our shoes. I smelled like dakgalbi for the rest of my trip with no regrets.
The sound of snipping scissors is the introduction of your dakgalbi to the world. One of the lessons learned while in South Korea: scissors are superior to knives — world, get on this.
Much like life, dakgalbi has distinct stages in which it develops that all blend into deliciousness (okay, maybe a weird way to describe life). Check it out, we’ve our non-meat ingredients all crunchy and raw. We’ve got tteok-bokki (rice cakes), cabbage, sweet potato and onions. Once all the ingredients have met each other and nuzzled and sizzled in the sauce, we’re good to go. All that time, watching Yasmin’s mom expertly shift these cooking ingredients, I was practically drooling. It was hard to carry out conversation. Finally, though, it’s time to go to town. It’s all bomb when they’re cooked down together, but special shoutout to soft sweet potato in the spicy smothered in spicy. Full to the brim, I foolishly forgot about the last stage: crispy-to-the-max fried rice. Also like in life, this later stage in life has beautiful variety and uses rice to sop up sauce (okay, maybe I’m forcing this analogy). Truly, this was an entire second meal, encouraging me to eat a total of perhaps my weight in dakgalbi. I couldn’t stop.
Here’s the setup. Humble, lasting materials: classic metal chopsticks and spoons, cast-iron skillet over a gas-powered stove embedded in a thick wooden table. Of course, everyone nabs the bites of dakgalbi that appeal to them straight off the sizzling surface. It’s family-style taken to the next level, and I love it. And check the banchan: raw pieces of onion and whole garlic cloves, to be dipped and eaten as is (after eating one, Yazzy told me I’m the first person she’s seen eat it, so take that as you will). There are boiled quail eggs for a literally lil’ egg flavor, and a frozen pickled daikon soup — super tangy and cooling. While Korean food enjoys its level of spice (as do I), there is always a balancer, giving every meal variety.
Dakgalbi isn’t just a dish, it’s an experience, folks. One that I would like to live again and again. At moments when I felt I couldn’t eat another bite, Yazzy’s mom would remind me ‘next week you’re going to regret those bites you didn’t eat’ — as with everything, she was right.
Here we’ve got the dish I was craving since I bought my tickets to Korea: Jajangmyeon, or black bean paste noodles. Super umami flavor, with pork, onion and more cooked beyond the point of recognition (aka the point of deliciousness) over fresh and fat, chewy noodles. You guys know fat noodles are my weakness. If I lived around this spot, I’d be a fat noodle.
Like dakgalbi, there’s a diy aspect to jajangmyeon too in mixing the noodles. It looks like a casual jiggle but lemme tell you it requires some elbow grease. Yazzy’s mom couldn’t watch me struggle through it so she offered the expert’s touch (that’s probably why these tasted extra delish).
I’m going to try again with this analogy: like life, jajanmyeon looks different as it develops — but it is always beautiful. Pre-mixing, you can see the glisten of the sauce and the elegant slivered cucumber adding a dash of crunch and color. The noodles take the show post-mix, showing off their hand-made irregularities and the chunkiness of the sauce. As always, there’s a balancer in the form of pickled daikon. After slurping down on these noodles I felt as happy as the daikon was yellow.
If you’re not tired of my food ranting, I have more for you yet! Naengmyeon wasn’t something I knew of before I visited. I feel as though I have awaken from a flavorless life. It’s a noodle dish that satisfies all the senses.
First off: it’s beautiful, hello. Second, it’s both tangy, spicy, and salty which makes it addictive. It’s also served cold, balancing out the heat. The texture of the thin, buckwheat-based noodles are hella satisfying. They cling together, are great to slurp, and have a satisfying little snap when you bite them. I’m starting to crave it just writing this. On top of that, the veggies like carrot and cucumber add a crunch and freshness while the egg offsets the spicy and makes it heartier. There’s so much variety balanced together perfectly, and it’s only possible to stop eating when there’s nothing left to eat.
I’ve failed those in search of cheap eats this week, offering absolutely no prices for anything. Here you go though: the dishes with naengmyeon included (meant for one but filled Yazzy and I) was a mere 5500₩ (~ 600¥ / $5 / €4). For cheap street food eats, we went to Namdaemun market and ate beyond our stomachs’ fill, and bought some fake Supreme while we were at it. But more on that next week. Till then, folks!
Traditional Choochun Dakgalbi (정통춘천닭갈비)
42–6 Jeongja 2(i)-dong, Bundang-gu, Seongnam-si, Gyeonggi-do, South Korea
Side note: for those interested in the emotional journey that was eating dakgalbi, I’ve got more for you here.
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