muchas gracias, dunkin' donuts!

The good news is that some of these are much better than you’d expect.  The Greek yogurt filled donut doesn’t have the full flavor of real greek yogurt, but it does have that yogurt tang to the filling.  Kimchi and lentil croquettes are competent, although they still taste pretty much identical to the ones you find at Paris Baguette and Tour le Jour and just about every other bakery in Korea.   The other Indian donut is too overpowered by the chocolate glaze to have much lentil flavor (we’re inclined to think this is a good thing) while the bean-y-ness of the “콩” flavored old fashioned is pretty subdued.   As a matter of fact, only two donuts impressed us particularly, albeit in equal and opposite directions.  Let’s start with the good, shall we?

The garlic and olive oil coffee roll was an unexpected success. Although the garlic flavor could never be mistaken for anything but artificial, it was largely non-offensive, like a little sprinkle of garlic salt on your morning toast. Combined with the sweet glaze, it actually made for a fun sweet-salty interplay of flavors. Best of all, there was a real drizzle of olive oil over the whole thing before glazing, adding a little bit of rich olive taste and an intriguing mouth-feel to the donut. It’s actually . . . well, kind of edible. We might be tempted to order this once in a while, if they were out of our traditional favorites.
Equally intriguing, but not in a good way, was the mysterious and coy bean-filled Japanese donut. Fatman was certainly curious ~ Koreans already use beans, mostly black beans, in a wide variety of foods with often tasty results . . .

But what kind of cruel trick is this donut?!? Where usually one finds a nice Bavarian creme or splodge of jam was an incomprehensibly flavored sludge. We wracked our brain (and frantically scraped our tongue) for answers. The Korean ad campaign and information identifies it as 콩, or bean. That’s pretty non-specific, so we looked for further clues. The bag it was served in was labeled “소이” Ok. Soy. Soy beans. But that still didn’t explain the unconquerable awfulness assaulting our taste buds. Then, we looked down on our tray and saw a little description of each donut, and learned the terrible truth: 낫또. That’s right. DD made a natto-cream donut and foisted it upon the innocent. NATTO!

Now, this is not an objection to natto, per se. We actually kind of enjoy the stringy, oozy, gooey beans. But this donut just isn’t right . . .the natto has been mashed into some kind of mushy paste, loosing the distinctive texture. Do you know what that leaves you? The flavor, mashed and masked with whatever sweet additives, preservatives, and miscellaneous junk it takes to turn it into a donut filling. This was wrong, wrong, WRONG on every level.
It was so wrong, we encourage you to try it yourself. Or at least foist it on some unsuspecting friend whose horrified response you can videotape.

from demotivateus.com

I am not one to sound the alarm unless disorider, destruction and death is imminent – but in this case I fear it is. As you will know, I am one damned tough cookie, but just one hour ago I was reduced to snivelling, mewling and weeping like a pouffe.

“What!” you cry. “What could possibly have been behind this demolition of your manhood?”

The culprit was a new product available at (ahem) Burger King: The “Angry Whopper.” This was advertized as spicey, but seriously – how spicey could an American fast food product be?

The answer is in: Murderously. A few seconds after biting into this innocuous looking snack, a hellish, sulphurous smoke began to curl up to the roof of my mouth. Then it detonated deep in my gut: Napalm.

No joke – this is THE hottest damned thing I have eaten in Korea. Ever.

Of course we had to try this delicious damnation for ourselves, and so off we jaunted to the nearest BK. We read up on the burger at Serious Eats, but found to our great dismay that a different form of the burger is available in East Asia than the rest of the world. In case you’re curious, this is what they get:

we stole this from Serious Eats

That would be a whopper topped with spicy crispy onions, jalapeños, pepper jack cheese, bacon, tomatoes, lettuce, mayonnaise, and spicy Angry Sauce. Mmmm. However, what you get in Korea is this:

from My Daily

That would be a whopper with angry sauce and angry mushrooms and some presumably pissed off peppers. Somewhere there’s a greenhouse filled with sadistic farmers torturing little mushrooms and pickeld peppers into become rage machines, we suppose.

The problem is that this burger just ain’t that spicy. Don’t get Fatman wrong ~ it’s got a definite kick from the sauce, and there’s a few devious little peppers packed away. But overall? Meh. There’s kimchi jjigae spicier than this burger. We wanted to be inspired to a murderous rage, tears of anger and tastebud betrayal rolling down our chubby cheeks as we gasped for air and desperately chugged down soda to quench the fire. We wanted a burger that would make 불닭 (bul dalk – fire chicken) fade away. What we got was a sort of mild burning sensation. Our nose didn’t even run. It was sad. Mayo and tomato and condiments helped tamp down the burn, but even without them it really was just kindof spicy, instead of deathly.

The burger itself starts with the basics: Sesame bun, wilting lettuce, ketchup, tomato, and patty, with an additional bit of jalapeños, some small, limp mushrooms, and a splash of spicy sauce. But the new ingredients don’t pack enough heat to make it really daunting eating ~ unless you’re regularly burned by typical Korean food, you won’t have any problem biting into this puppy. Chiliheads beware: This burger will only make you angry with its lack of punch. It’s not mild, by any means, but nor is it a kiss of fire that can never be put out.

The Wall Street Journal ran an interesting article on the expansion of Dunkin’ Donuts in Korea today, saying that the chain was looking to almost double the number of stores in South Korea, along with turn Koreans into morning coffee drinkers. We ask you, do Koreans really need any help with that?

There’s a few problems with the article, which confuses older and widespread promotional schemes like loyalty cards with new efforts. We’re also wondering where we can get those delicious-sounding soy doughnuts the article promises (we’re pretty sure they’re either talking about the pat-filled ones, or have confused them with the much-missed tofu doughnuts from Mister Doughnut) and note that like loyalty cards, seasonal and locally-oriented products have long been part of marketing the product here, and not just for DD. We really had to get a quote from a young woman saying that it’s cool that they used one of the biggest TV stars for their commercial? Is this kind of advertising surprising to anyone whose lived here for more than five minutes?

But the biggest mistake here may be the idea that Koreans don’t really jive with coffee yet, and that the new commercials and roastery mean an attempt to create a new market, rather than cater to one that already exists.  They’re not aquiring new tastes, but having the ones they already have catered to.

Let’s get this clear: Koreans love coffee.

And not just any coffee ~ fancy, freshly roasted, hand dripped, 6000 won cups of organic pleasure. Offices across the land are equipped with drip coffee makers and instant packets. Men and women from Uijeongbu to Mokpo meet, date, chat, study, and work over cups of coffee. And frankly, Fatman wishes the WSJ would tell Koreans that they’re not supposed to like coffee in the morning on the way to work, so we could get our cup of joe without waiting forever in line behind all those locals who apparently don’t need their morning fix.

What the article (and apparently the upper management) failed to grasp is not that Koreans are being persuaded into new consumption habits or using new marketing strategies, but that the place and meaning of Dunkin’ Donuts (and many other western chains) is radically different here. Koreans won’t grab doughnuts and run because that’s not what DD is here for. People grab and run with doughnuts from the stateside branches because they’re older, uncomfortable, unwelcoming, and built to make people leave. If the international management is trying to encourage their Korean customers to do the same, they’ve got a lot of remodeling to do to make their stores nasty enough to make the office workers want to get up and leave . . .

So, hungry readers, what do you think? Was the WSJ off the mark? Is DD’s international management out of the loop? And are there really soy bean doughnuts in the case?

Tip of the fat hat to B in J (Again. Doesn’t he ever sleep? How does he always find these things first?)

We’ve long wanted to try something that our friends from afar could join in,  and found inspiration in Eat Your Kimchi’s ramen taste-test.

While they had lots of fun finding the most foreigner friendly of the reconstitutable ramens, they did have one utter failure:  짜장볶이.

고마워, KoreaSMART.com!

What can account for this mysterious non-starter?  Why were they not wowed by the black stuff?  Were there preparation errors?  Anti-Chinese agitators?  Is it just gross?  Was it a brand issue?

Well, we here at FatManSeoul intend to find out! ~ but we need your help to do it.  Here’s how to participate:

Go to your local Korean market (if overseas – just stop by the local minimart if you’re in country) and pick up as many different kinds of instant jjajang as you like.  Fix ‘em.  Take some snaps.  Eat it up.  Then, let us know what you think!  We’ll post the results next week, and provide a guide to the best powdered black bean sauce noodles money can buy!

A quick guide to prep:

Cup style – peel back the lid halfway and pull out those sauce packets.  If there’s a separate one for veggies, open it up and dump the contents in the cup with the noodles.  Now, fill the cup to the interior mark with boiling water.  Wait 2-3 minutes, and drain almost all the water.  Pull off the lid completely, and pour in the flavor packets.  Mix.  Photograph.  Eat.  Review.

Packet style – Fill a small pot with water and bring to boil.  Dump in noodles and veggie pack and cook for 2-3 min.  Drain almost all the water, and dump in flavor packets.  Mix.  Photograph.  Eat.  Review.

Bonus points if you can figure out the reasoning behind the title of this post!

Bonus Bonus:  As long as we’re talking about inappropriately named snacks, go check out Zen Kimchi’s Ricetard review.

If this is what it takes for animals to become human, Fatman is staying wild and free. The tiger had the right idea . . . it isn’t worth becoming a woman if you’ve got to eat this stuff to do it! Mugwort is an herb thought to be good for all kinds of folk medicine like thinning the blood, and Koreans have long used it for its herbaceous flavor and ability to give food a deep green color.
But what’s good for the ddeok isn’t necessarily good for the doughnut.
This was hands down one of the worst doughnut ideas ever conceived, and the execution is worse. Bitter, unpleasantly herbaceous, and coated with sugar, we’d just as soon stay in the cave. Forget being the founder of the entire Korean race – just give us something to wash away the taste! Just look at the horror on this poor bear’s face at the thought of being locked away with that doughnut for 100 days!

Our advice (and that of Ms. Bear) is to stick with the hot and now original doughnuts for which Krispy Kreme is justly famous.

And, eat your garlic.

image from 교보문구

Fatman recently took a browse through Michael Pettid’s Korean Cuisine: An Illustrated History and liked what we saw. Unlike most books about Korean food, this one is not primarily a cookbook. Pettid, an Assistant Professor of Korean and Korean Literature at SUNY Binghampton flexes his scholarly muscles to bring readers a nearly encyclopedic look at Korean food and its development.  Covering everything from ritual, seasonal, and regional specialty foods all the way on through to palace cuisine to kitchen utensils, this is the best general reference work on Korean food currently published in English.  Learn how kimchi was seasoned before new world peppers arrived on the penninsula and how to properly set up a table (literally) fit for a king.  As might be expected from a literature professor, the book is peppered with food found in songs, stories, poems, and literature, and makes liberal use of non-foodie sources like the 삼국유사 (三國遊事/samgukyusa:  Memorabilia of the Three Kingdoms) to talk about the role of food in Korean history, literature, and culture.   The book is extensively referenced, has a lavish number of color plates, and an interesting if brief collection of recipes – and is quite possibly the first time Fatman has found a good 개장국 (gaejangguk:  dog soup) recipe in English.

Because the book paints such a broad, general picture of Korean food, don’t expect to find a complete and definitive account of individual dishes or ingredients.  The entire book including appendices and indeces only clocks in at a modest 223 pages, so you’re not going to find an in-depth history of the development of ddeokpokki.  Also, Pettid’s literary background means that some of the foodie aspects are a bit underdeveloped when it comes to describing tastes and flavors.  We can only hope that Pettid will someday contribute an even  more substantive and in-depth look at Korean food, but as it stands this is the best (and only) overview of Korean food in publication in English.  Fatman recommends this book strongly as a general guide to Korean cuisine.

Now at last you can have (kindof) the same experience of picking up a quick sushi pack: 7-11 has introduced a series of “california rolls” with various fish fillings (your choice of tuna or salmon) with mayo in an inside-out roll, and some spread-it-yourself wasabi cream sauce. Fine dining, this is not. In fact, there’s little to set it apart from the average roll of gimbap besides pre-slicing and fewer fillings. It’ll also cost you roughly twice as much as a single roll of ministop gimbap, so prepare yourself.

Both the salmon and tuna varieties rely on inexpensive canned fish that’s been mixed with rice and mayo. The crab version is made from imitation krab meat, and none of the varieties have been encumbered by any avocado, cucumber, or other vegetal matter, though there is a sprinkling of roe on the outsides of the rolls. You could do worse for a quick snack, but you can also do better, even at the minimart.  Go get yourself a gimbap instead for a much better value and more flavor.

One of the special culinary pleasures of Korea, bulgogi (fire meat) ranks high.  Beloved by everyone from Koreans who have never left the peninsula to gourmands who’ve never made it to these shining shores, it has joined kimchi as one of the most symbolic foods of Korea.  And what else to do with such a deeply loved food but to sandwich it between buns and consume it as a hamburger?

Fatman, along with a small cast of brave taste testers set out to find the best of the bulgogi by taste testing burgers from all the major fast food chains of Korea:  McDonalds, Burger King, and both the regular and hanwoo (all Korean beef) burgers from Lotteria.  We risked life and tongue to discern the truly delicious from the merely adequate and the truly vile.  Our results, from worst to best:

Burger King Bulgogi Whopper

Fatman’s taste testers were shocked by the low finish of this entry, anticipating that flame broiling and a healthy set of condiments would make for a satisfying burger. Instead, the bun and patty were dry, and the raw onion overpowered the less potent condiments, in particular the anemic tomato. It was slathered with mayo, but nothing was strong enough to mask the very unpleasant “faux smoke” BBQ sauce “that’s gone off” flavor of the bulgogi sauce itself.

Average Scores (on a scale of1-5, with five being the best)

Meat: 2

Condiments: 4

Bun:  3

Overall: 3

Judges Comments:  “Fake-y smoked flavor”  “Tasty condiments”  “Looks great, but not enough bulgogi flavor”  “Nice tomato”  “Looked better than it tasted”

Lotteria Bulgogi Burger

This was the least substantial feeling of the burgers, with a very flimsy bun that almost immediately disintegrated under the weight of mayo and sauce. The sauce itself was overpoweringly sweet, but lost under the cloy of the mayo. Some testers preferred the taste of the patty compared to some of the others in the tasting, finding it meatier than the other offering from Lotteria, but were in the minority.

Meat: 3.5

Condiments:  2.5

Bun 2.5

Overall:  3

Comments:  “More bulgogi flavor”  “Lots and lots of mayo”   “Beef is lower quality, but somehow tastier”

McDonald’s Bulgogi Burger

The much maligned mickey d’s proved to be surprisingly inoffensive to the tasters. Comments like “I might be willing to eat this again” peppered the conversation, and the biggest complain related to the lettuce (note to Ronald McDonald: Try to find lettuce that doesn’t look like it’s in an advanced stage of kimjang. Something with a little crunch and some actual green color will go much further than brown-tinged goo.) The bun was no great shakes, and yet again there was too much mayo, but overall the sauces were more balanced than some of the other entries and it didn’t immediately turn to mush in the hand.

Meat: 3

Condiments:  2.5

Bun 2.5

Overall:  3

Comments:  “Bread-y, mayo-y”  “Not bad for a cheap burger”

And the grand winner is . . .

Lotteria’s Hanwoo Bulgogi Burger

It shouldn’t surprise anyone that the Hanwoo Bulgogi Burger won top honors in our test.  The native son may have an instinctive feel for the right balance for the bulgogi sauce, which was sweet but not overly so.  There was also a drizzle of spicy sauce to liven things up where too much mayo weighed down many of the contenders (although this too featured a not-so-healthy serving of the great white condiment).  It also won points for having a goodly number of tomato slices and lettuce to provide some crunch and texture.  Perhaps most importantly, the all-Korean beef patty was substantively thicker and better seasoned than the others.  It was the only burger to have some heft and weight to the meat, making it the beefiest of our entries and the hands down winner among our testers.

Meat:  4.5

Condiments: 3

Bun: 3

Overall: 4

Comments:  “Spicy/zesty”  “Very tender, but overall lack of texture”  “Needed some crunch, but the meat was easily the best”

So, the next time you reach for a bit of bulgogi on the go, Fatman recommends the Lotteria Hanwoo Burger.  Many, many thanks to our brave taste testers, Wanderchomp and Jaim, for putting their tongues on the line to help bring everyone the best possible burger options!