The menu here is very compact . . . there’s a few kinds of medicinal teas, and sweet red bean porridge, a clear demonstration of Fatman’s guidelines for finding good food. Most of the medicinal teas are medleys of spices, herbs, fruit, and nuts that make for a slightly bitter, heady brew that will leave your sinuses, throat, and soul happy. To balance out the bitterness, the drinks are served with crystallized ginger, for a sweet-spicy kick that will clear your palate for the next wave of goodness. Between all the melding flavors, you’ll be ready to face the cold air with a bit more equanimity.

The only exception to the tea menu is an extraordinary sujeonggwa. This punch made from dried persimmon, ginger, and cinnamon can be wan and merely sweet in the wrong hands. Thin and insipid canned “nostalgia” drinks can’t hold a candle to the rich, spicy sweetness of 2nd Best’s. It’s deeply and intensely flavored, redolent of all its main ingredients; there’s the spicy zest of the ginger, the soothing spice of the cinnamon, and the concentrated golden sweetness of the dried persimmon. Even on a chill day, the warmth of the flavors compensates and makes the day seem a little brighter.

It’s the patjuk that steals the show, though. Smooth and almost creamy, the combination of sweet rice and sweet red beans is exactly the right texture for slurping as the pale November light fades. The rice cakes almost melt in your mouth, while chestnut and ginko nuts add another texture and layer of nutty and slightly bitter flavor to balance out the sweet read beans. It’ll warm both the heart and the hands, soothing away the stresses of the day.
2nd Best is small, with only two small rooms of very limited seating. It’s got a sort of retro tea house/coffee shop vibe, which only adds to the warmth and charm . . . as does the closeness of your neighboring diners. If it’s too crowded inside, they’ll happily package up your drinks and porridge to take with you. They’re located on the main drag of Samcheongdong, on the right hand side as you walk north. The drinks start at 5,000 won, but go up significantly for the more elaborate medicinal brews.   Even so, it’s both a healthy and satisfying way to end a chilly day.

Ah! But why the Second Best Place in Seoul? “Where on earth is the first place?” we hear you cry! Well, dear readers, it IS the best place . . . the name is merely to leave them something to aspire to. It’s hard to build on near perfection, but 2nd Best is not going to stop trying just because they’re already better than everybody else!

Fatman has already expounded on CJ Food’s recent entry into the international restaurant sphere with BiBiGo.  Fortunately, Fatman’s wonderful friends stepped in to supplement our interest in the chain by reviewing their new location in Los Angeles, California.  Let’s have a big, hearty round of applause for Han Kim for his intreped reporting!

Thank you, fatmanseoul.com, for giving me this opportunity to blog about one of my favorite passions, food. I was on special assignment to investigate the new phenomenon of Korean food globalization. The newest addition to the Korean food takeover (other than Issac Toast and BBQ chicken) is Bibigo.

BiBiGo’s newest location over the Pacific is in Los Angeles, near UCLA’s campus in Westwood Village. The modern signage is a little odd-looking, but cute. I could feel my Koreaness oozing from all my pores. “They used a spoon for a letter,” I thought, “awww, cute!”

Immediately I noticed the beers in the cooler by the entry. This “healthy” restaurant is trying to be healthy, but they have beer. At least they have some of the bori cha (barley tea) I’m familiar with. All the items available were about $9 or more. I went with the first option of Bibigo Rice, since my philosophy is the first thing on the menu is usually the best thing on the menu, else why would they put it first?I have a lot of rice options, and I get the most non-white looking rice, since I grew up hearing that the whiter rice is the worse for your health. I choose to get chicken since I thought I should lose some pounds, since I was going to be in a triathlon soon. Plus, it’s really hard to mess up chicken and I want to play it safe. My fourth choice on the menu was sauce, and I choose the citron soy since I like a little bit of soy on my chicken. But what the heck is green sesame? Undercooked sesame seeds? There were other entrees options to choose from such as Ruby Grapefruit Salad, Jap chae , or Duk boki (Spicy Rice Cakes), but I was craving rice.

Since they just opened, I wanted to give the business a chance and not judge too harshly on food prep. I could see chaos in the front as they tried to fill the orders, but it looked like only one person was putting the sides together. I noticed there were several managers running the restaurant, but only one was really helping while the others would stand there try to help but really just criticizing the workers. Dude, not in front of the customers! I wondered if he really knew what he was doing, or was just a investor who insisted on being there for the opening. If you are going to help, do your share instead of going over the mistakes that your workers might have made. After all, you’re the ones who designed the restaurant so that only one person can work the banchan station. One peeved customer waiting for 20 minutes for her food, but they only had half of the order completed. She was critical of the fact they didn’t take orders by phone to speed up the process. Korean food to me was never really fast food. If it’s fast, it usually ends up bad.

The food, on the other hand, was good and fresh. It had better be, since I I paid $9 for it. The banchan with shitake mushrooms, pickled cucumbers, and daikon went well. The chicken wasn’t that substantial, but it’s supposed to be healthy, right? The whole meal was served on top of a bed of lettuce. My non-Korean friend, Paul, got the bibimbap. He thought the bulgogi needed more flavor, but was happy with his bibimbap, even though he misses the egg. On a previous trip, I had tried the stone pot bibimbap and had one question: Where is my egg? In consolation, the broccoli and the spinach was good. All I needed was kimchi, but being in America I had to be satisfied with sliced jalapeno peppers.

The interior was nice, like a soothing, Korean, modern-looking restaurant. I feel like I could have stayed there to surf the net and chill with my friends. My friend said he could eat here once a month, as could I. It’s a nice place for a lunch date, or maybe dinner date, since they have beer. I doubt they will have a happy hour, but if this place served better anju, I’d be there everyday. I do hope for the best for Bibigo, since Korean food deserves recognition and it’s paving the way for other Korean food franchises to step into the American market.

Again, Fatman would like to thank Han Kim for taking the time to review BibiGo LA for us!

Fatman would like to extend a special thanks to Prof. Montgomery for taking both the time to join us for lunch, and for a fascinating conversation about the difficulties of translation.

비빔밥/bibimbap:  If you see this on a restaurant menu, you are getting the most basic version possible ~ white rice and an assortment of vegetables both cooked and uncooked, usually lettuce, bean sprouts, carrots, zucchini, bellflower root, cucumber, dried seaweed, radish, spinach, ferns, and/or mushrooms.  There may also be a bit of beef (ground or in small strips) and a fried egg to top it off.  Properly done, there should be at least five colors (blue/green, red, yellow, white,  and black/brown) arranged in a visually pleasing manner.  If there’s no 고추장 (gochujang/ pepper paste) lurking under the egg, it’ll be in a jar on the table.  Typically served in a stainless steel or ceramic bowl, but fancy schmancy places will sometimes use brass bowls.  Of course, if it’s a fancy schmancy sort of place, you’re more likely to get . . .

전주 비빔밥/Jeonju bibimbap:  Ah, the grande dame of bibimbap!  Jeonju-style bibimbap is as famous as it is confusing.  Many a hungry soul has wandered down Jeolla-way only to wonder what the hell makes this dish special.  Well, for starts, this bibimbap claims royal antecedants, with local lore holding that it developed from court cuisine.  Other typical differences are the inclusion of 황포묵(hwangpomuk, sometimes called 노랑묵/norangmuk), a yellow jelly made from mung beans and gardenia, 육회 (yukhoi, marinated raw beef), and local bean sprouts.  Some restaurants cook the rice in beef broth for a richer flavor, but its the accompanying bean sprout soup (콩나물국/ kongnamulguk) that helps mark this local food for what it is.  The Jeonju-style has come to dominate, so expect a dish that strongly resembles the standard-issue bibimbap, only more elaborate.  And, because this is Jeolla-food, tasty.  Paul Ajosshi and Zen Kimchi both have recommendations on where to track down this tasty treat.

진주 비빔밥/Jinju bibimbap:  Moving east into South Gyeongsang Province, Jinju’s specialty bibimbap involves 육회:  Lots and lots of raw beef marinated in sesame oil, garlic, soy sauce, sesame seeds, and sugar, accompanied by pine nuts, egg, and pear, gets slathered on top of hot rice, which partially cooks the ingredients.  Mmm, beefy!

산채비빔밥/sanchae bibimbap:  This virtually vegetarian version should include fresh mountain vegetables both root and leafy, and can often be found in restaurants near Buddhist temples.  The best ones are made with just picked local vegetables from the hillsides, giving the diner a chance to taste some wilder kinds of vegetal matter, from the  shoots of the hardy kiwi to aster leaves to stringy stonecrop.   It all depends on what’s fresh and local, making it locavore and (minus the common inclusion of an egg) vegetarian and vegan friendly.

돌솥비빔밥:  Basic bibimbap or some variation thereof, but served in a hot stone bowl.  The bowl is usually greased with a little bit of sesame oil to keep the ingredients from sticking right away, and the egg on top is usually served raw and cooked by  the heat of the bowl and ingredients when you stir it all together.  Start stirring this the minute it hits the table, or everything will burn on the bottom, rather than achieving the much sought after crispy crunchy texture.

회덥밥/hoi deopbap:  Despite the name, hoi deopbap is closer to bibimbap than deopbap.  Leafy greens and raw fish (often tuna, salmon, or all those lovely chewy whitefish beloved here in Korea) are served on top of rice,  seasoned with a splash of sesame oil and a dash of chogochujang (초구추장: vinegared pepper sauce).  The most famous of these is  probably . . .

포항물회/Pohang mul hoi:  This variation uses raw halibut, pear, and a whole heap o’ cucumber.

안동헛재사밥/Andong heotjesabap:  Think of this dish not as bibimbap for the weak, but rather the bibimbap of choice for those with a selective palate that doesn’t need the burn of peppers.  That’s right ~ the distinguishing mark of this dish is that its flavored with soy sauce and sesame oil instead of gochujang.  But why, particularly in a region known for the spiciness of its cuisine?

The name holds a clue:  Rice for fake ancestral rites.  There’s a lot of stories as to how this dish came to be, but the most famous is that a young man arrived back in town just a little late for a jesa (a Confucian ritual honoring a deceased family member), but still jonesing for the delicious dietary aftermath.  These rituals involve symbolic offerings of meat, vegetables, fruit, rice, alcohol, and an assortment of fried goodies to the ancestor, and when the bowing is done the non-deceased feast.  However, spicy foods and bright red foods aren’t part of this meal, since the color and flavor are too bold for a solemn occassion.  But what’s a boy to do when the meal is already through?  Ask ‘em to cook it over again,  ancestors be damned!  Hence, “fake” jesa rice.

된장비빔밥:  Swap out spicy gochujang in your standard bibimbap for the mild saltiness of dwenjang (fermented soybean paste) and you’re got a delicious new dish.

보리밥:  Essentially, boribap is a variation of bibimbap using barley instead of or mixed with rice.

Often served with another local specialty, salty mackeral, not to mention a wide host of mostly fried and meaty sides (echoing the delicious snacks for the ancestors), this mixed rice doesn’t have egg or spicy sauce, but does have a subtle and savory flavor to cherish almost as much as the dear departed.

Think of a version Fatman’s forgotten?  Let us know, and we’ll add it to our fieldguide!

apologies for early title problems . . . we’ve had an extra-special visit from the typo fairy, but we’ve finally staked it out and thrashed it so it won’t come back again anytime soon.

Oh yeah, and some other clown had something to say about how blogging has influenced food culture in Korea. Hmmm.

]]> http://www.fatmanseoul.com/2010/06/17/zen-kimchis-tedxseoul-talk/feed/ 1 http://www.fatmanseoul.com/2010/06/07/bibi-no-go/ http://www.fatmanseoul.com/2010/06/07/bibi-no-go/#comments Mon, 07 Jun 2010 07:37:12 +0000 fatmanseoul http://www.fatmanseoul.com/?p=1408 How can something that is 80% a good idea end up going so very wrong?

The Cafe formerly known as Sobahn has reopened as Bibigo*. Along with Zen Kimchi, Fatman was involved in some early test marketing for both Cafe Sobahn and the new Bibigo concept. A concept that was really, roundly panned for having a silly name. Apparently, once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your marketing.
And it’s a darned shame.

The food isn’t too bad. It’s got a very corporate, packaged taste, but the veggies are fresh and the ingredients have been reasonably well thought out. For mains, there’s a choice of regular bibimbap, dolsot bibimbap, or the salad-heavy “bibigo.” For each of these you can chose from sprouted brown rice, white rice, black rice, or barley, and from a variety of sauces. The sauces are where things first start to get tricky, and show the weaknesses . . . do you want gochujang, ssamjang, lemon . . . or is it citrus soy? And is that sesame sauce green? What on earth is a green sesame??? Does that look green to you? If so, please adjust your monitor.

You can also chose to have beef, chicken, or tofu added to your bibimbap for an extra 1,000 won, making this a moderately expensive plate of food.
Things are just as confusing on their “tapas” menu. Leaving aside how on earth you can pass of any of these foods as tapas, the translations that have been done on this side of the menu are either careless or deceptive. The Korean menu is reasonably clear, although you could take issue with calling a stack of gareddeok and sweet potato covered in a candy-sweet gochujang sauce “ddeokbokkum” . . . but the English menu is completely nonsensical. What on earth are “Silver Noodles” ~ would you guess 잡채? Fatman wouldn’t. And 누룽지 셀러드 does not sizzle, thus negating the idea of calling a dish “sizzling salad.”

This wouldn’t be such a big problem if the main point of Bibigo weren’t a lynchpin of CJ Food’s grand plan to globalize Korean food. Perhaps the American and Chinese renditions will be different in tone, but the Korean flagship is far too upscale in tone and price to be accepted as “fast food” the way they’re aiming to join the market. Also, careless, stupid translations like “silver noodles,” “sizzling salad,” and “green sesame sauce” for products that aren’t silver, don’t sizzle, and aren’t green is going to damage them in the end. Other products aren’t explained enough for an outside audience (such as “ssam sauce” or even worse, “kohot” for gochujang) that isn’t familiar with Korean food. Even their English page isn’t terribly well edited. How can they expect to succeed overseas if they ignore the advice of people who know the industry, and then ignore basics like accurate descriptions of their very own food?
The food isn’t bad, and the dining space in Gwanghwamun is attractive . . . but without some quick moves, all CJ’s efforts to turn this into an international chain are going to be for naught. It doesn’t matter how healthy it is (not very, under all those sauces), fast (only if you’re getting bibimbap – tapas and side items all took time), or well-designed your interior is (although Sobahn’s was nicer).  Skimp on things like solid test marketing and editing, and you’re left with an overpriced K-town mall food court restaurant.

In other words, not so bad for a quick lunch downtown, but don’t hold your breath for the Bibigo chain to sweep the outside world and become the next McD’s.
To get there, head west from the south point of Gwanghwamun, towards the Hammering Man sculpture. Bibigo is on the ground floor of the Gwanghwamun Officia building, where Cafe Sobahn used to be. Prices for main dishes start at 7,000.

*Only the Gwanghwamun branch. Die-hard Cafe Sobahn fans can still get their fix on the campus of Seoul National University.

Many people are familiar with the Levantine favorite, tabbouleh. This mezza is traditionally made with some combination of parsley, mint, spring onion, tomato, and bulgar and dressed with olive oil and lemon juice for a refreshing salad. You can make an equally refreshing but heartier salad from local, indigenous ingredients here in Korea with just a little bit of flexibility and ingredient innovation.

Fatman suggests you pull together the following:

• two cups of barley (보리)
• a few green onions (파)
• a clove of garlic (마늘)
• the smallest bag or box of cherry tomatoes you can get away with at your local mart or market (방울 토마토) . . . unless you really like tomatoes.  If that’s the case, then get more!
• a great honkin’ fistful of perilla/sesame leaves (깻잎) ~ if you’re really lucky, your local market will have the fresh, tiny first leaves.
• olive oil
• a lemon or two
• salt, pepper, and a little bit of hot pepper powder (고추가루)

First, treat that barley like you would rice, and throw it in the rice cooker to steam.  Timing is totally non-essential here, and you can do it the night before if you’re a go-getter who likes to have it all planned.  Do give the barley a little bit of time to cool down . . . you want it warm, but not hot.

Meanwhile, start quartering those cherry tomatoes and chiffonading the perilla leaves.  Then, put them all together in a pile and give ‘em a few extra whacks with your knife,  just to be sadistic.   Toss ‘em in a big bowl.

Now,  chop your green onion as finely as you can manage.  Then, give your garlic a good slap with the side of your knife and start chopping up the poor, pathetic garlic corpse as finely as you can.  Toss them both in with the tomatoes and the leaves.

When your barley is down/up to a sort of warmish temperature, toss it in with everything else.  Now, give it a toss.  Ok, now give it another one.  Good.

Take your olive oil and douse everything.  Treat it with complete abandon and splash it around like it costs you nothing, instead of the ridiculous price you paid at Shinsaegae Department Store because you’re an olive oil snob.  Give it a toss.  Take out your financial frustrations by slicing a lemon (or two) in half and squeezing the life out of it over your salad.  Toss.  Finally, salt, pepper, and gochukaru to taste.

Voila!  It’s . . . Korbouleh!

맛있게 드세요!

Hanjeongshik (한정식) is hands down the best and most efficient way to get a wide variety of the freshest, most seasonal foods. In one single meal, you’ll get a spread that covers the forests and fields and farms’ very best, often prepared using family recipes. It’s a little more spendy, perhaps, than your typical abbreviated lunch menus, but there’s no better way to experience the real depth of Korean food than to sit down at one of these meals.

But if you’re looking for a particularly special rendition of hanjeongshik, look no further than Chongsujeong. This Samcheongdong staple serves up a fairly standard table in terms of sides, with everything from seasonal greens like onion stalks to a silky 묵 (muk: savory jelly) to panfried corvina. There’s usually at least two soups on offer, including doenjangjjigae and kongbijijjigae.

All this would make it a pretty decent place for hanjeongshik, but not spectacular. Luckily, there’s one important item that sets Cheongsujeong apart from the crowd: 홍합.

This restaurant serves no insipid 공기밥 (plain rice). Instead, their rice is steamed with the added goodness of mussels, and enhanced with just a touch of sesame oil and soy sauce for a uniquely rich and flavorful rice. It’s almost gooey and has a pronounced nutty tone, and a single bowl will leave all but the most expansive eater absolutely stuffed. Which, incidentally, is how the restaurant looks at peak times, so be prepared for the possibility of a short wait.

Although its housed in an old traditional home, a modern renovation has left the front rooms fairly charmless, so try and ask for seating in one of the rear rooms. The full hanjeongshik set costs 12,000 won, and is only served to parties of two or more. Don’t despair if you’re a single diner though, because an abbridged lunch set, the 홍합도시락 (honghap doshirak) will set you up with all the most essential parts of the meal for a very reasonable 7,000 won.

Cheongsujeong is very easy to find, on the west side (left as you head north from Gwanghwamun up towards the park) of the main drag of Samcheongdong, just before the 3-way interesection leading back to the road to the Blue House.

Places to drink in Seoul tend to fall into discrete categories:  The chicken hof, the trendy cocktail bar, the neighborhood beer pub . . . looking for something outside these is often a challenge, and there’s a dearth of mid-range pubs in particular.  Trying to find something sophisticated that won’t break the bank, or a place that serves a decent range of food and drink is not an easy task in Seoul, where atmosphere comes only at a price, and restaurants and bars usually have specialized and narrow menus.

Morac, a newly-renovated Korean-style bistro in Gwangwhamun, is one of the very few restaurants in Seoul to achieve a balance between atmosphere and price, without sacrificing selection.  The location is especially nice, in the center of downtown Seoul and within walking distance of half the subways lines in Seoul.  They’ve done a spectacular job with the renovation, with multiple areas within the restaurant decorated in different styles that still manage to form a coherent whole.  With warm colors and big slanted windows, the interior manages to be welcoming despite its size, making it a good choice for both large parties and smaller, more intimate groups.  The style is modern, with a decided nod towards Korean tradition in the colors and patterns used, right down to the plates and bowls.

Morac has a wide, if not extensive, selection of alcohols, from wine and beer to makgeolli, with occasional specials and tasting menus to highlight particular genres.  This makes them ideal for groups with varying tastes, and gives lots of flexibility to the menu for matching foods and drink.

The menu changes yearly, but the CIA-educated chef turns out solid bistro fare, with an emphasis on meats and salads.  Although the food tends to be substantive, there’s a definite feminine edge on many of the foods, including the carnivorous offerings.  The seared beef belly in soy-based sauce, for example, has the sort of mouth-filling meat flavor people crave, but its thin cut, delicate sauce, and accompanying greens give it a sprightly edge.  The seafood pancakes, likewise, have a chunkier, more recognizable seafood flavor to them than many places, but the dish still manages to feel a little bit brighter and lighter despite this.  Morac’s version of dalkgalbi, spicy sizzling vege-chicken, may not have the depth of flavor and rich sense of melding together that more traditional versions have, but the individual flavors and spices stand out more distinctly and precisely, for an almost dainty take on the dish.  The mushroom trio and fresh salad bibimbap also stands out for its refined flavors and sensitive take on what is usually a heavy bowl of rice and vegetables.  This version instead feels light and airy, and retains its salad elements even as it manages to fill your stomach.  The only thing to watch is a tendency for some of the dishes to be slightly greasy, but it’s not really a barrier when there’s a little alcohol to cut through.

In the end, Morac is a welcome entry to the Seoul restaurant and bistro scene, having reasonably priced specials, well-thought out food offerings with an unexpected and pleasant feminine touch, and a selection of beverages that will leave nearly everyone in your party satisfied.  You could bring family or business associates during the day, and make it the location for your company dinner or date in the evening with equal aplomb.

As mentioned before, a version of this review appeared in the December issue of Groove Magazine. As such, it follows slightly different format than our usual reviews, and we were invited by the restaurant to conduct the review (id est they knew we were coming and we didn’t shell out our own cash for multiple visits.)