FatManSeoul

Susubori Academy offers 막걸리-making classes

fatmanseoul — Thu, 12 Aug 2010 05:49:24 +0000

Buckwheat, with a side of literature

fatmanseoul — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 07:18:16 +0000

It was Fatman’s recent pleasure to join esteemed professor Charles Montgomery of Korean Modern Literature in Translation and his lovely wife Yvonne to try out a bowl of buckwheat at 메밀꽃필무렵 (maemilggotpilmuryeop), a restaurant specializing in buckwheat cuisine.
Why, pray tell, is Fatman dragging a literature professor along for the eating? The name of the restaurant is taken from one of the most famous lines of modern Korean literature and an astoundingly difficult story to translate, The Buckwheat Season. It’s one of the stories that seems to make it into just about every book of translated stories, but can also be a bit hard to love if you’re not nostalgic for a particular Korean past. Prof. Montgomery shares the particular vexations of trying to deal with this work on his write-up of our expedition. Go read all about it (and the story) here~!

But now, on to the food!
Buckwheat isn’t actually wheat . . . or even a cereal or grass, for that matter. Its seeds, however, have been a historically important crop in Korea, helping to supplement or even replace the more prized crop of rice. Thanks to its hardy nature, it can be cultivated all over the peninsula, and was probably much more widely used than wheat flour for making noodles and other flour-based dishes in Korea until the modern era. And, as an extra bonus, it’s glueten free.
In the story for which the restaurant is named, the main characters are walking by a field of blooming buckwheat in the warmth of a summer night, comparing the small white blossoms to scattered salt. You can see why these delicate flowers merit the comparison by glancing at the specimens being cultivated right in front of the restaurant.

The restaurant has a limited, seasonal menu, with summer and the buckwheat season bringing delicious chilled noodle soups, like their extraordinary 콩국수 (kongguksu).

The chewy, thick, nutty buckwheat noodles form a toothsome match for a rich, almost decadently creamy soy broth. Very simply garnished with shredded cucumber, it makes for an unusual balance between the heartiness of the noodles and broth with the refreshing temperature of the dish overall, making it both filling and restorative in the oppressive heat of a Korean summer. Season it with your own sprinkling of salt, and even if you find yourself with a suppressed appetite due to the weather, it’s easy to scarf down a huge bowl of these noodles.

But if you’re looking for something lighter, there’s still more maemil options for you to explore, like their excellent 비빔국수 (bibimguksu). Bright, light, and simple, this is an honest rendition of the summer favorite.

Packing just the right level of heat to balance but not overwhelm the delicate nuttiness of the noodles, and dressed with egg, tomato, radish and cucumber strips, this dish offers a wealth of tastes and textures. There’s the chewy noodles, the crispy radish and cucumber, the bright acid and sweetness of the tomato, the sweet and spicy sauce, and finally a little richness from the egg.

The seeming simplicity of the dish is totally belied by the complex flavors that issue forth, with the wonderful noodles shining through. Many a mixed naengmyeon gets overwhelmed by the sauces and toppings, hiding the bland taste of inferior noodles. Here though, the wonderful delicate nuttiness of the buckwheat is evident in every bite, and the homemade noodles have a silkier texture with a pleasant but not overwhelming toothiness to them. These noodles are marvels, with a level of chew that provides resistance to the bite, but not turning into the typical overwhelming mass you have to use a chainsaw to get through. They’re just right.
Speaking of just right, the restaurants’ signature dish is an amazing, gut busting bowl of goodness and warmth, whatever the season.

Behold, the 메밀국수! This bowl holds a mighty mountain of buckwheat noodles, with a bounty of zucchini, onions, and potatoes. It is more than enough to feed a small army – which you may need, since the minimum order is for two and comes in a bowl that will easily serve four. Of all the dishes on the menu, this is the one that best highlights the unique flavor of the buckwheat flour, making the noodles the absolute star of the dish. The mild flavor of the potatos, green onions, and squash lend a bit of texture and color, but know their role as supporting characters.

If you’ve never enjoyed buckwheat before, this is the place to start appreciating it for its gentle, savory flavor. You’ll never get this much satisfaction out of wheat-noodles, which don’t have enough assertiveness in either flavor or texture to stand out in such a gentle soup.

But don’t fill up too soon! There’s more to explore in the non-noodle menu . . . like the delicious 메밀부침 (maemil buchim). This panfried savory pancake of buckwheat flour, green onions, and zuchinni is not to be missed.

This treat fries up with a crispy exterior and edges, but yields and becomes soft, almost melting in the interior, again with the distinctive nutty flavor of the buckwheat. It’s a distinctive and delicious variation on the more popular 파전 (pajeon) that you find around town. And it’s recommended by Prof. Montgomery! What more could a diner ask?
Well, maybe for a bit of refreshing 묵 (muk) and some makgeolli to wash it all down with?

One of the only forays into non-buckwheat based food, and the only option for the unlucky few with a buckwheat allergy. Crunchy, fresh lettuce, green onion, and cucumber provide contrast with the silky smooth acorn jelly and the slightly sweet, slightly nutty, slighly spicy sauce. This is a dry, restrained version compared to many, but like many a wallflower, its charms slowly apparent to the person kind enough to draw them out. As with all the dishes here, there’s a deep honesty in the preparation and flavors that really help them stand out.
To get to 메밀꽃필무렵, take exit 4 from 경복궁역/Gyeongbokgung Station, line 3. Turn to your left, and take the road that runs directly back to the Blue House, along the stone wall of Gyeongbok Palace. The restaurant will be on your left.
All the dishes here run between 6,000-8,000 won, and there is the standard collection of Korean alcohols, including soju and makgeolli. Also note that except for the 국수 broth, most of the items on the menu are vegetarian and vegan friendly.

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.

Mighty tasty, 마나님

fatmanseoul — Sat, 10 Jul 2010 02:06:36 +0000

Adding to the growing list of organic restaurants in Seoul, Mananim stands out for its singular devotion to the homemade. Now, lots of places out there feature homemade food – but how many of them make their own cheese, soy sauce, and vinegar? That’s right, everything is handmade by the owner, down to the vinegar and soy sauce used to season the dishes. At this point, Fatman wouldn’t be surprised to hear that the owner hand-raked the salt.

The restaurant is small and you’d hardly guess it was a restaurant at all from the profusion of jars, bottles, jugs, and onggi/옹기 (earthenware pots) sitting around obscuring the scant four tables. But find a seat anyway, and snack on fresh veggies and gochujang, steamed sweet potatoes, and salty 장아찌 (jangajji – pickled vegetables) while you decide from an unusually diverse menu.

Did we mention that every bit of seasoning, every slice of pickle, every scrap of just about everything is made by the owner? Just checkin’ . . .
Mananim’s menu straddles east and west, offering both organic and somewhat unique Korean dishes, from a refreshingly chilly northern-style chilled ddeokguk (rice cake soup) to rice steamed in sweet peppers, then crosses over to offer both a spicy Korean-influenced pasta and a creamy pasta made even more decadent with fresh herb cheese. It looks as homemade as it is, but the taste of the slowly melting cheese, al dente pasta, and fresh veggies add up to something that would be difficult to produce on one’s own at home. It’s humble food, but taken a step further.

The spicy spaghetti is a minor triumph, managing to balance the flavors so it still packs heat without being overwhelmingly hot, and even more uniquely manages to taste like a true fusion of western spaghetti sauce (which it isn’t – not a tomato is sight!) and the warming flavors of Korean sauces.

And just when it seems like she might be veering off course, the owner has brought the menu back into utterly traditional foods, including a tasty doenjang bibimbap. Heavy on the organic veggies and seasoned with the house 된장 sauce, the whole thing comes together for a dish that just screams wholesome.

Despite this diversity, the menu is only a page long, and includes only a few pasta, noodle, and rice dishes. All of them, even the seemingly traditional beef noodle soup are imprinted both with the owner’s unique viewpoint and with the goodness of all organic and all house-made ingredients.

In fact, the owner is half the attraction of Mananim. Funky, and almost hippie-esque in her relaxed state, she’s more than happy to chat with customers about the food, her ingredients, and the cosmic state. She’s a truly unique individual who despite her charming air of relaxation is seriously dedicated to good food in a way that goes far beyond what most enterprises or individuals can manage. Once you’ve wound down your meal with a complimentary bit of fruit and a sliver of bread and cheese, spend a few minutes investigating their vinegars, sauces, cheese and pickles, many of which are for sale for you to take home something far, far better than what you’ll get at your local supermarket.
Vegetarians rejoice! Many of the foods here are already vegetarian, or can be made without meat. And those with scant money in their pockets can also celebrate, with all dishes except bossam coming in at less than 10,000 won.

To get to Mananim, take exit 1 from Anguk Station (line 3) and turn to your right, taking the first right again to head north towards Samcheongdong/Jeongdok Library (정독도서관). Go down the first street to your left after you pass Andong Church (안동교회, and Mananim will be on the left. Alternatively, head south from Jeongdok Library and take the first through street on your right (at the 민들레영토/Minto) and Mananim will be towards the end of the street on your right.

A fieldguide to 비빔밥

fatmanseoul — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 06:09:55 +0000

Fatman was recently browsing the interwebs, and realized there is some confusion brewing over the vast sea of dishes covered by the term 비빔밥. Now, the idea of bibimbap itself is pretty straightforward: It’s rice, mixed with . . . well, something else. But with so many regional and local kinds of bibimbap, it’s sometimes hard to know your 전주 from your 진주. So, Fatman humbly offers the following fieldguide for bibimbap identification:

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.

막걸리 World Cup

fatmanseoul — Fri, 02 Jul 2010 08:29:02 +0000

For once, a competition Fatman can enjoy without being picked last in gym class!

Sure, the Korean team may have been knocked out of the World Cup, but you can always enjoy a cup of makgeolli in consolation. Or, take a more celebratory tone by turning your attention to the Makgeolli World Cup ~ this clever cafe on Naver has matched different makgeolli with different countries for a showdown that leaves everyone a winner. Check out the current rankings here, and try some at home for your own special world cup experience! Or, head down to your local makgeolli bar (Fatman recommends 친친 in 홍대) to cheer along.

Dodging the draft?

fatmanseoul — Tue, 22 Jun 2010 06:50:04 +0000

Draft 막걸리?!?
This is one innovation Fatman is kind of psyched about (한/영린크):

Baesangmyun Brewery, the maker of one of the leading brands of makgeolli, said that it has opened a micro-brewery in southern Seoul around its head office where visitors can buy and take out fresh makgeolli.

The Seoul-based outfit plants to establish around 10 more miniature breweries at the capital by the end of 2010 where the takeout makgeolli will go on sale just like the Starbucks outlets.

Ok, the comparison to Starbucks is not quite the right one. After all, you’re probably not allowed to imbibe a cup o’ makgeolli on your way to work in the morning. But it is both new and delightfully old fashioned at the same time, and Fatman is kind of enamoured of Baesangmyeon‘s idea.

You see, kiddies, way back when Fatman was merely a Fatchild ( . . .ok, maybe before we were even a Fatglimmerinourmother’seye) makgeolli was not a drink you got out of a plastic bottle. It was made fresh and delightful, either at home in an ardous process, or by a local brewer with local ingredients, giving it its own sense of terroire. Essentially, makgeolli was all micro-brew made in a process Michael Pollan would adore, a locavore‘s dream. The Japanese colonial administration and later Korean administrations passed laws and regulations that significantly hampered the production of high-quality local makgeollis, and the drink is just now recovering its rightful status.

And part of that status depends on it being consumed fresh. Really, really fresh, in comparison to most alcoholic drinks. It’s not like a wine that benefits from aging; the sooner you get it after it’s brewed, the better. That’s why they have expiration dates printed on them ~ makgeolli goes bad quite quickly. Assuming all other things are equal, a fresh draft makgeolli is going to taste better than one that’s been in a bottle on the supermarket shelf for a while. We have to say, this seems like a pretty darned good idea.

So, anybody up for a trip to check this out?

Spice up your life

fatmanseoul — Fri, 18 Jun 2010 08:19:45 +0000

The spring may have fled already and the lethargic heat of summer settled on the city like a big, sopping, wet, super-heated blanket, but that’s no reason to stop stoking our internal furnaces. It’s time to fight fire with fire, and there’s no better way to do that than with a spicy, boiling bowl of soft tofu soup.

Following Fatman’s rules of good Korean restaurants to a T, this place does one thing and does it exceptionally well: 순두부.

It really doesn’t do anything but tofu soup and tofu-related products. Would you like tofu, tofu, or 두부? Beyond that though, you’ve got an amazing range of flavors your soup can take on . . . beef, seafood, mushroom, pork, it’s all there. And if it’s not, ask – a vegetarian companion got the kitchen staff to send out an animal-bits free version with just a few words to the waitress.

It should be said though, that this place is serious lunchtime grub, and if it can’t be communicated to the waiter or waitress in about five nanoseconds, they don’t care. They want your order, and that’s about it. This isn’t so say they aren’t attentive – they’ll have your waterglass filled and your banchan on the table before you can blink – but these folks are not there to discuss the latest Korean food globalization trend or whether or not makgeolli sales will surpass beer during the World Cup. They are on a mission to serve you fast. The whole restaurant reflects this, with no effort to gussy up its offerings. Chopsticks, spoons, napkins, and eggs are all stowed away in the tables themselves. Efficiency rules here.

But what a beautiful reward you get for giving up the fussy details of other restaurants! Is there anything more glorious than simple food, served well? We think not.

Whatever you order, expect it fast. So fast, in fact, that the soup usually hasn’t come off a rolling boil yet. Volcanically hot, give it a minute and devote yourself to transferring your rice from the stone bowl it comes in to one of the metal ones provided for you on the table. Pour a bit of the provided 보리차 (boricha: barley water) in and let it mellow into a lovely, lightly savory treat for later. Your soup, meanwhile, is still boiling, so drop an egg in there to cook if you like.

The real glory of this place is that they’ve managed the balance of flavors for the soup marvelously – although blisteringly hot and on the very spicy end of things, the richness of the broth helps tone it down and make the heat pleasant. Whether you got the meaty, umami-laden pork or beef versions or the lighter but still mouthwatering seafood or mushroom versions, you’re going to enjoy it. And whether you dump your rice in the soup or pour the soup over the rice, it still makes a hearty pick-me-up of a meal. It ain’t fancy, but the food is solid lunchcounter grub of the highest order. End things with the mild, nutty palate-cleanser of crispy rice and barley water, and sit back full, happy, and ready to face the summer heat.

Myeongdong Sundubu is located outside exit 5 and 6 of Euljiro 1-ga (을지로 입구역), behind the 국민은행 (KB). Sundubu dishes are between 6-8,000 won, and there is a limited menu of beer and appetizers.

Zen Kimchi’s TEDxSeoul talk!

fatmanseoul — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 05:54:41 +0000

For all those of you who couldn’t make it to the event itself, the Korean subtitled version of Zen Kimchi founder Joe McPherson’s TEDxSeoul talk, “How should the Korean government promote Korean food” about ideas for successfully globalizing Korean food is now up. Enjoy, and congrats Joe!

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

Lifting our glasses to World Cup

fatmanseoul — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 06:28:32 +0000

Deep tipping of the fat hat to Gusts of Popular Feeling, who found this Korea Times article on the effects of the World Cup on sales of makgeolli vs. beer, and how they think it’ll play out . . . shockingly, the beer companies maintain that beer is not only the most FIFA appropriate choice, but will definitely withstand makgeolli’s assault. Makgeolli-making companies throw their market-growth statistics in beer’s face, and maintain that they’re the patriotic way to booze your way into sports oblivion.

Boys and girls, there’s no need to fight, and Fatman is fairly sure there’s enough love of the liquor in Korea to keep both drinks around. Of course, beer manufacturers should note that their domestic products have only slightly more flavor than what comes out our taps, and makgeolli has blossomed in part because of a real increase in quality over the past few decades.

So, ladies, gentlemen, and football hooligans: What are you quaffing when the game is on?

What Korean food will conquer?

fatmanseoul — Sat, 12 Jun 2010 10:08:54 +0000

If you’re reading this blog, Fatman assumes you like Korean food. And, if you like Korean food, you probably want to see all the other cool kids eating it, regardless of location. So, having already discussed the government’s recent ham-handed efforts to promote Korean foods abroad, along with private enterprises like CJ Food‘s “close, but no cigar” work with Bibigo, Fatman wants to ask:

What foods do you think have the most potential to become popular outside Korea? How would you bring it about? If you were an investor, in charge of bringing something to an outside audience, what tasty dish would you be putting your money on?

Fat hat tip to reader Jaim, who apparently is triangulating efforts on samgak gimbap.