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.

Located near Maebong Station (line 3) in southeast Seoul, Star Chef may be a bit off the beaten foodie paths, but well rewards the traveler who makes the trek.  Located on the ground floor, the low-key interior opens up to a wide, welcoming patio while the open kitchen gives glimpses into the normally secret world of chefs.

Chef Kim has twenty-some odd years of experience as chef, on two continents that shows in not just his knife skills, but also in an adventurous and playful interpretation of a wide range of cuisines. While fusion food has a tendency to rely on crutches and props, Chef Kim’s experiences have translated a real understanding of the tastes of a variety of cuisines and how they can be combined and merged into something new and exciting.

Some of the simplest food combinations are the best, and this appetizer of broccoli with garlic oil has the perfect balance between the mild crunch and bitterness of the broccoli with a deep and luxurious garlic oil, enhanced by tiny shards of deep-fried garlic.

This beef and mushroom salad nearly stole the show. Tender slices of marinated beef and whole cloves of roasted garlic added a sweet note to pungent, bitter greens which were in turn balanced by the mild meatiness of  lightly broiled mushrooms. The slight creaminess of the dressing was offset with a bit of  spicy kick that works along with the acidic sweetness of the tomato wedges, the crunch of the salad, smoothness of the dressing, and chew of the meat and mushrooms made it a dance of different flavors and textures. Many of the greens and vegetables come from the chef’s own organic farm in Jeolla-do. Hands down one of the best salads out there, anywhere.

Tangsuyuk is a Korean-style Chinese food favorite, but it would be hard to match Star Chef’s rendition. Most places have heavily battered pork floating in a one-note sauce more sweet than sour. Rest assured, this version is the best in Korea: Tender slices of beef are encased in a shatteringly crisp batter (Chef Kim uses potato starch instead of a heavier flour) that holds that crispiness even after being tossed with a deeply-flavored sauce that sits just between sweet and sour, without either side of the equation dominating. Combined with the vinegar-soy tang of the dipping sauce, this is the way tangsuyuk should be.

Kim’s kitchen does a few variations on traditional Korean pork dishes like samgyeopsal and bossam. His XO samgyeopsal has rich, fatty slices of pork in a special xo sauce, served topped with cilantro and atop a bed of baby bok choi that add a vegetal bitterness that keeps the dish from being overwhelmingly rich.

Some people might find the dish a bit heavy, but it matches well with many of the beers, liquors, and wines on Kim’s extensive menu.

In an even more Korean vein, this glorious take on kimchi pork stir fry takes a humble dish and reinvents it. The rich earthiness of the kimchi and fattiness of the pork could, in lesser hands, combine for one of those overwhelming, gut-busting bits of pub grub you can find anywhere. Here, the heaviness and pungency of the base ingredients are lightened by a delicate, playful sauce as well as the deeply green and refreshing leeks and bits of cilantro hiding under the pork so that the whole dish practically sparkles.

A whole, fried mullet becomes the building block of this dish that dances across the tongue. The humble bottom-feeding mullet is elevated to a new level of cool by perfect preparation that uses the moist, mild white flesh as a base to experiment with a pan-Asian collection of seasonings. Hints of South East Asia spring forth with the cilantro, while Japan takes a bow with a pickled ginger slaw, and a piquant soy-based dressing keeps it all lively. The staff expertly dresses and de-bones the fish tableside, giving you a bit of free entertainment.

Dishes begin at 10,000 won and go up from there. While it might seem like a bit of a splash for some of the items, the quality here is exceptional and well worth it. Besides, all of them come in generous portions that will easily feed an army – or your company mates when you head out for 회식.

Star Chef:  서울시 강남구 도곡동 417-2/ Seoul, Gangnam-gu, Dogok-dong 417-2 (click here for the map – Korean only)

02-529-8248

hat tip to superlocal for the map!

The restaurant itself is tiny, with only one real table supplemented by stools and a low bar hugging the walls. It’s cramped, but not short on atmosphere: carved furniture, pictures, and calligraphy from the Center of the World hang on the walls. But none of it hides the fact that this is a place for serious eating, not some prissy see-and-be-seen hangout where the food doesn’t stand up. These dumplings mean business.

The menu is limited: Do you want mandu, mandu, mandu, or mandu?

The mandu here are a little different from their Korean 왕만두 (wang mandu: “king” mandu, made with a thick, floury wrapper) cousins:

They’re fairly small, what you’d find on the streets of Shanghai (Fatman brought some Chinese friends in to confirm authenticity), and the meat fillings in particular hold a surprise – a substantive amount of rich broth lurks inside to squirt the unwary. The pork meat dumplings are velvety and deeply satisfying, with complex spices taking a supporting role to the mouth-filling glory of the meat.

The 부추야채 만두 (buchu yachae: Asian leek) rendition isn’t nearly as rich or heavy, but showcases their kitchen’s wrapper-making prowess. The leek and egg filling balances perfectly with the faintly chewy and oh-so-light mandu skins, bringing textural properties into the limelight. It’s the golden ratio of wrap to filling that only the few, the proud, the 천진포 people can produce.

The 해물만두 are no slouch either in the taste department, with each little morsel of seafood distinct enough to be toothsome and satisfying, but without sacrificing unity of flavor. The pan fried leek mandu are remarkable – a small amount of leek and egg filling is loosely wrapped in a thin mandu-skin and pressed in a greased griddle for a fabulously good combination.

The leek is fresh and vibrant, just barely held in check by the crispy skins of the mandu long enough to dip in their vinegary dipping sauce, spiced with a bit of their chili oil. Refresh your palate with the complimentary jasmine tea, and you’ve got yourself one of the best mandu deals in town. 고기 and 부추 만두 are 4000원 for a serving of 6, the 해물 are 5000원 and 지짐 부추 만두 are 6000 won per serving.

One note: The staff here is all Chinese, so not only will ordering in English be difficult, Korean can prove just as big a challenge. Still, there are menus in English and Korean on the wall, so you can always point to what you want. Seating and service is very limited, so consider carry-out if you’re short on time to wait for a table.
To find Cheonjinpoja, head north along the stone-walled road from the Anguk Building at Anguk Rotary, north of Insadong.

최근 ‘the korea times’는 한국의 채식 음식점에 대해서 다루었다. 기사에는 안국동의 ‘소심’과 같은 좋은 채식 음식점에 대한 추천도 찾아볼 수 있었다. 그 동안 대중에게는 잘 알려지지 않은 그러한 음식점들을 볼 수 있다는 점에서 상당히 기분이 좋았다(기사에는 ‘산천’과 같은 크고 화려한 음식점에 대한 내용은 찾아볼 수 없었지만 괜찮았다).

Speaking of temple cuisine, they left out one of the best places to get not just delicious but totally free vegetarian food: Buddhist Temples! It’s not so well known, but most temples have days of the week or times where you can drop by and have a fabulous vegetarian meal. Check out your local temple and see what’s on the menu!

맛있기만 한 게 아니라 공짜라서 더 좋은 사찰음식. 바로 절에서 체험해 볼 수 있다. 아는 사람이 얼마 없긴 하지만, 대부분의 절에서는 일정 기간을 두고 누구든지 그곳에 들러서 맛있는 사찰음식을 무료로 즐길 수 있게끔 하고 있다.  지금 바로 근처의 절에서는 어떤 음식을 주는지 알아보는 것도 좋은 방법이다.

In the meantime, you can make a delicious temple-style, totally vegetarian 비빔밥/bibimbap with just a few simple ingredients you probably already have lying around. You’ll need:

하지만 집에서도 충분히 즐길 수 있다. 집에서 쉽게 구할 수 있는 간단한 몇 가지 재료만 있다면 여러분도 집에서 맛있는 비빔밥을 만들어 볼 수 있다.

• 2 cups short or medium grain rice, and
• 1 carrot, jullienned (당근)
• 1 zuchinni, sliced into rounds (호박)
• 1 small head of red-leaf or green-leaf lettuce, chopped coarsly (상추)
• 1 generous handful of spinach or other leafy green (시금치)
• 1 generous handful of mung bean sprouts (콩나물)
• 4 shiitake mushrooms (표고버섯)
• gochujang (red pepper paste), roasted sesame oil, soy sauce
• 쌀 2컵
• 잘게 썬 당근 1개
• 둥글게 썬 호박 1개
• 큼지막하게 썬 작은 상추 1개
• 시금치 한 움큼
• 콩나물 한 움큼
• 표고버섯 4개
• 고추장, 참기름, 간장

Rinse and prepare rice according to the directions of your rice-cooker. In a small frying pan, heat a scant tablespoon of neutral-tasting oil (such as peanut, canola, or grapeseed oil) and very briefly sauté each ingredient individually. When rice has finished cooking, divide into two bowls. Divide vegetables and lay on top of rice. Add sesame oil, soy sauce, and/or red pepper paste to taste.
Because Buddhist monks in Korea generally adhere to vegetarian diets, you won’t find any meat or egg in the foods served at temples. Also, because spicy food, onions, and garlic are thought to stimulate inappropriate appetites, traditional temple food also kept these items largely off the menu – so lay off the gochujang!

쌀을 씻은 후 밥솥에 밥을 한다. 작은 프라이팬에 기름을 약간 두른 후, 준비한 재료를 각각 살짝 볶는다. 밥이 다 되면, 두 개의 그릇에 나눠 담는다. 나물을 나눠서 밥 위에 얹는다. 참기름과 간장을 넣고 식성에 따라 고춧가루 등 여러 양념을 넣는다.

한국의 절에서는 대부분 채식을 하기 때문에 그곳에서 고기나 달걀을 찾기는 어렵다. 또한 매운 음식이나 양파, 마늘 같은 것들도 부적절한 음식으로 여겨 식단에 넣지 않는다. 그러면 고추장도 제외!