Top seven gross Korean dishes selected by foreign staff at the Korea Herald

All we can say is that intern reporter Ryu Jeong-hyun needs to learn what actually constitutes news.  Hint:  polling your foreign colleagues about what Korean foods wig them out isn’t it.

mmmmmmmm! 순대!

For the record, the offending foods were 홍어 (fermented skate), 번데기 (silkworm larvae), 닭발 (chicken feet), 산낙지 (“live” octopus), 순대 (blood sausage), 보신탕 (dog soup), and 곱창 (intestines).

Fatman would like to point out that lots of Koreans don’t like or eat these foods.  Hongeo is a taste acquired only through much endurance.  Most people never acquire it, and that’s fine.  But it doesn’t make it “gross.”

Beondaegi-eating is a generational divide, with older people enjoying it more than the young . . . but young people have grown up in a totally different culinary and economic landscape.  It’s a nostalgia food for many people.

Surprise!  Chicken feet is a food with international legs.  Apparently the Korea Herald doesn’t have anybody from, say, the Philippines, Africa, the Caribbean, the American south, or . . . well, most of the rest of Asia.

어머나!  Sundae is made with pig intestine?  You mean, just like virtually every other kind of sausage?!?*  And it’s not like people don’t eat blood sausage elsewhere, like . . . oh, most of western Europe.

Fatman could write all day about how these so-called strange foods actually can be found around the world in various forms.  But the real problems is that acting like a very narrow sampling of (we’re guessing white, western, probably North American) foreigners can be used to show what foreigners as a group think about Korean food is annoying.  It’s stupid because it exoticizes Korean food and turns foreigners into a monolithic group.

News flash:  Poorly researched, half-assed articles are annoying.

Now, if you’ll excuse us, Fatman has an insatiable craving for sundae . . .

*caveat – most sundae, and indeed most sausage nowadays, uses synthetic wrappers instead of intestines . . . but mostly to save on cost.  High quality stuff is still stuffed inside pig stuffing.

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.

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/2010/06/12/what-korean-food-will-conquer/ http://www.fatmanseoul.com/2010/06/12/what-korean-food-will-conquer/#comments Sat, 12 Jun 2010 10:08:54 +0000 fatmanseoul http://www.fatmanseoul.com/?p=1416 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.

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.

From ships to chips, Korea is an export Olympian, but the hottest product may be local grub. In a marketing drive, Seoul reportedly aims to massively expand overseas Korean restaurants and food exports. Tactics include approving standardized Korean restaurants overseas, opening Korean culinary schools abroad and offering loans for restaurateurs to establish overseas.

Problem: Absent increased demand (popularity) increasing supply (the above) is pointless.

And is exporting Korean foodstuffs viable? As local consumers know, agriculture here is disastrous, food prices way north of international norms (if exported, logistics expenses would further increase costs.) Markets exist for specialized produce (e.g. ginseng) but why would an overseas chef buy Korean garlic for his kimchi rather than local produce? (Want it ready-made? Buy Chinese: Korea suffered a kimchi deficit of US$77 million between 2004-2007.) Moreover, “state-approved” restaurants are pointless: Consumers rely on media, not governments, for recommendations.

Given this, a smarter strategy may be to publicize the delights of Korean cuisine rather than promote produce exports.

Research must be the start point. What Korean foods do overseas diners enjoy? What don’t they enjoy? Only then can a campaign begin.

Food/lifestyle reporters can be invited on Korean culinary tours, and sent ingredients and recipes. Key influencers — cookbook writers and celebrity chefs can be approached to endorse Korean recipes on shows and in print. Picture Anthony Bourdain consuming raw octopus, Jamie Oliver promoting doenjang for school lunches or Nigella Lawson’s fine bosom dangling over a pajeon.

Ultimately, Korea must birth its own star chef and/or cookbook writer. Not some boring old fart waffling reverentially about traditional cuisine; not some gag-show buffoon; but someone who knows food, has character and can present compellingly. Due to language, he/she may be Korean-American. The show needs international airtime. Koreans have sold film and soap opera globally, so the talent is here to sell to Discovery or National Geographic.

What are the brand values and niche products of Korean cuisine?

Not healthiness. Today’s dishes are so overloaded with spice, salt and flavor enhancer, Koreans suffer some of the world’s highest stomach and intestinal cancer rates. While Korean cuisine does not spawn the obesity of American diets, emphasizing alleged healthy properties is disingenuous.

Let’s kill another shibboleth: Kimchi should not be the flagship. Though iconic, it is neither recipe, dish nor standalone product: It is a condiment. India is famed for curries – not chutneys; Germany for sausages — not sauerkraut. Moreover, kimchi is an acquired taste and smells powerfully, making it unacceptable in many foreign refrigerators, kitchens and restaurants.

Korean cuisine’s differentiated merits must be branded: Strong flavors, idiosyncratic seasonings, multiple side dishes, bright colors, convivial and informal dining manners. These are pluses, as Japan already occupies the formal “high-end” Asian food niche. Korean “comfort food” perfectly fits the mid-end market.

Italian, Chinese and Japanese cuisines were popularized via a limited range of dishes. Absent research for Korean, I suggest sutbul. Communal tabletop cooking is an experience; fondue and hotpot prove it is marketable. Moreover, everyone loves barbeque: It is the Stone Age basis of cooking. It offers cross-sell opportunities (stews, pindaetteok, etc, along with mains) and fusion possibilities (cheese and doenjang; yogurt-thickened stews, etc). This is desirable, as cuisines that globalize mutate: chopsuey is alien to Chinese tables; spaghetti & meatballs to Italian. Once mass market popularity is won, diners seek the original.

Korean cuisine’s idiosyncrasies, fieriness and conviviality reflect its creators. Can it be successfully promoted? I watch developments with interest.

Fatman agrees with the main point entirely:  creating supply before there is a demand is silly.  Also, the Korean government is going to have to learn that they cannot control the manner in which Korean food is adopted outside these shores.  There’s no way to compel people to understand and eat Korean cuisine in a particular way.  People will figure out what they like and adapt it to change their palate.

That said, we think that there’s no reason why some of the more distinctive foods like kimchi can’t become popular overseas.  The idea of raw fish on vinegared rice with grated horseradish didn’t appeal to a lot of westerners when sushi first started showing up, now did it?  Today’s exotica is tomorrow’s surprise hit and next year’s staple food.  The most popular condiment in the US today isn’t ketchup, but salsa.

No matter what country you go to, food can be laden with preservatives and artificial ingredients or made with farm-fresh organics. In the meantime, Korean food puts an emphasis on vegetables and non-animal proteins. It is generally low in fat, with lots of things we know are good for us to eat.  When Korean food gets good press internationally, it is often in conjunction with the potential benefits for our bodies.The health aspect can and should continue as a major reason for people to adopt Korean foods as part of their lifestyle – even when it’s not always true. Eat as Fatman says, not as Fatman does.

Korean food has already shown up on cooking shows overseas.   Celebrity Chef Bobby Flay devoted an entire episode of Boy Meets Grill years ago (Fatman is still scratching our head wondering how he came to believe that mint was a common ingredient in Korean cooking, but oh well.)  All the major travel/food shows have been here, but they remain more focused on the “Oh my God!  Can you believe they eat that?!?” niche foods like dog meat and live octopus than the real foods that people eat as part of their everyday diets.

It hasn’t helped that much.

In Fatman’s opinion, the real problem is a tendency to exoticize Korean food.  There’s plenty of food that’s vaguely familiar no matter what your food tradition.  Now, we don’t mean running around saying “gimbap is the Korean sushi” (just like people should stop trying to convince tourists that Jeju-do is just like Hawaii – ’cause it ain’t!) since it only encourages first-time eaters to be confused and disappointed.   It does mean encouraging people to find the cuisine as a twist on the familiar, and treating the truly unfamiliar as natural accompanyments.  The Korean side of the equation needs to stop thinking that “authenticity” (whatever that means . . .) can be enforced, and the rest of the people promoting need to give the cuisine some respect by not acting like eating it is some act of spectacular bravery. Branding kimchi and dwenjang as some kind of stinky untouchables overseas is silly.

In the end though, the most important thing everyone can do to help Korean food along is to stop worrying about it.  All the great advances in popularity have been incidental and spontaneous.  Daejanggeum and the Kogi truck have done more to spread Korean food than any celebrity chef, travel special host, or government agency ever could.  Sit back, relax, and chow down on some cheonggukjang.