Category Archives: Food

Costco – like Makro for Americans – and yummy Indian food

Daegu, Food, ,

Sundays are generally quiet days for me – either because the ridiculously late nights of the week have worn me out or because I don’t really have anything to do and have run out of the energy for exploring. This week was different as my colleague and I headed off for a long-promised visit to Costco. Although we’d planned to head out early, he and I both live on nocturnal time (he even more so than I) so he picked me up at 11:30am and we went to get something to eat before heading to the shop.

Unlike most of the places I’ve visited in Daegu, this is not that close to where I live because it’s situated near the main American military base in order to capitalise on the foreign market. This meant that lunch needed to be somewhere on the way, which is how we ended up parking on KNU campus and heading for an Indian restaurant. In all my years in SA, I haven’t eaten all that much Indian food, and particularly haven’t spent much time in Indian restaurants – as opposed to meals shared in people’s homes and at parties or from street vendors.

That said, Indian is practically South African as far as some part of my brain is concerned and walking into the Indian restaurant brought on strange bouts of feeling terribly at home. Terribly because it could have been designed to induce homesickness (given that I don’t come from an Indian community) but also wonderfully, comfortably familiar. I felt myself relax and take a deep breathe of calm. This was perhaps exaccerbated by the fact that I’m finding Korea particularly noisy at the moment and this was an oasis of calm and quiet with nothing but gentle music with rhythms that made me recall the occassional belly-dancing class and a smiling, non-Korean waiter (who rocked).

We poured over the menu. Or rather, I poured over the menu, as my colleague knew immediately what he wanted to order – a spinach-based vegetarian dish. I eventually settled on a North Indian Chicken and vegetable curry thing (which has a name, which I currently cannot remember) and rice. My colleague also ordered Naan bread with cheese (real cheese!). After seeing me struggle with Korean food, I think he was a little taken aback to see how easily I took to the Indian menu and food. I struggle to explain just how comfortably multi-cultural home is and this was one of those situations. The food was fantastic. I honestly found myself having to stop eating because I was full but wishing that I wasn’t because it tasted so delicious. Of course, it also had the advantage of not requiring chopsticks – which at this point is always a bonus. But I was seriously impressed. The atmosphere was great, the staff were amazing and the food was marvellous. It sounds odd that in Korea the place I now want to take visitors is an Indian restaurant, but that is a little what I’m feeling.

I also wondered a little if the waiter hadn’t spent some time in South Africa. The accent sounded so familiar and I felt that he smiled a little wider when he noticed the SA rugby jersey I was wearing (in honour of the Boks Tri-nation victory) but apparently they’re all from Pakistan and India so perhaps that is just wishful thinking. Either way, this is another place to add to my list of amazing discoveries in Daegu. When I mentioned later that I want to travel around Korea, my colleague said that all Korean cities are the same. Thinking about it now, I should have pointed out to him that it’s gems like this place that make every city different. I also failed to explain – because I don’t know how – just how much this place felt closer to home than any Korean restaurant I’ve walked into since I’ve been here. Perhaps having so many wonderful cultures at home prepares you for foreign travel not just in terms of dealing with other cultures but because you can always find a piece of Africa, even if it comes from India.

The cultural differences came up in conversation again when we reached Costco. This colleague, as an American, has serious issues with people not respecting personal space. Coming from Africa, I have a far smaller concept of personal space, so this doesn’t really bother me. In fact, I sometimes find it difficult to understand the extent to which it bothers other foreigners. I did, however, still feel a little claustrophobic on a lift with nearly 20 other people. We parked on the roof so there were several floors to go down and at each stop more people kept getting on. I think some of them were getting annoyed with me because I wasn’t moving back but I was very aware of the mother with a small, energetic child standing directly behind me.

When we finally reached the actual shopping floors, we had to go to the information desk and sort out membership. Like Makro, you have to have a membership card to shop at Costco, and because I don’t currently have my alien card (because my boss needed it to do some paperwork) we needed to renew my colleague’s. This involved a stop at the information desk and then a somewhat-meandering trip back up the stairs one floor (avoiding the overcrowded elevators) before it was finally sorted out.

And then, membership secured, we walked into what could be an American replica of Makro. Except American. I’ve heard a lot about Costco since I arrived here. It seems to be the place that keeps most foreigners happy. It was easy to see why, walking through the place with an American. I didn’t recognise as much stuff (except from American TV programmes) but I can see how it would make anyone from North America feel like they’d rediscovered home.

The first aisle we stopped at was the stationery. I am desperately trying to find the Korean equivalent of ‘prestic’ and have so far failed (including today). In the process of  searching, we both got distracted by the large packs of white-board markers and the multi-packs of gel-pens in many, many colours. I definitely had a moment of being reminded that whatever else we are, when we’re here we’re all teachers first and foremost.

Once we dragged ourselves away from the stationery, we found the very small book selection. Apparently the store used to cater far more for foreigners than it does now (presumably because they’ve discovered a lucrative Korean market just dying to buy American-style products in bulk) and their book selection is now extremely limited. We did find an audio (casette) kiddies version of Aesop’s fables but other than that nothing of interest – which is a little frustrating for two book people.

On our way out of the maze of books and stationary and house-hold items, we found a shampoo/toothpaste/multi-vitamin section and I picked up a huge pack of multi-vits (400 per pack), so I should be good for a year or so. I also looked longingly around the shampoo/conditioner section while my colleague tried to find an Omega-3 supplement that wasn’t all fish oil (don’t ask) and then had to explain that the reason I wasn’t buying any shampoo was because none of it is made for curly hair (which I think he still doesn’t believe in spite of all the straight-haired people as evidence to the contrary).

So, on (up the horrible moving walkway) to the food. Costco is known for having a wide variety of the type of foodstufs that Koreans just don’t eat and which, as a result, are not available in Korean shops. The first stop was the vegetable storage walk-in fridge. I was on an (unsuccessful) hunt for Rocket (Arugula in the States). I did find a variety-pack of lettuce which is a welcome relief from the ice-berg lettuce I’ve been reduced to so far. My colleague found pine-apple, which was very exciting – don’t laugh, it’s unusual here. There were also some very tempting packs of brown mushrooms, which I resisted on the grounds that they’d just go off in my fridge before I finished them (and I don’t have an oven to cook stuffed mushrooms), as well as some rock-hard New Zealand Avos, which I (sorrowfully) rejected for the same reason.

On to the meats and cheeses. Costco is apparently the best place to find meat in Daegu and there was a better selection than I’ve seen elsewhere, but it still wasn’t anything like what I’m used to. I don’t think we, as South Africans, really appreciate the variety of reasonably-priced meat we have easy access to at home. Here finding good meat, especially in the cuts we’re used to, is a struggle. And even this place didn’t have the lamb/mutton I’ve been craving.

They did have cheese. As a wholesaler, they sell to restaurants so it was good to see real Parmesan, Edam and some Munster and Gorgonzola. I was a little frustrated (perhaps something approaching frantic) not to be able to find Cheddar. At which point, we both got distracted by the wines. The wine selection in Korea is erratic to say the least. Some places have some great wines at reasonable prices but always mixed up with some extortionately priced rather unexeptional ones. And, of course, they’re always foreign (to me) so I’m never sure what I’m getting. I was happy, today, to find a less-extortionately priced 2006 Cab/Shiraz/Merlot from Australia. And then I noticed the Amarula and nearly wept for joy, and spent several minutes (unsuccessfully) trying to explain Amarula to an American. And then I saw a South African wine. This is the first time, despite much searching, that I’ve seen a South African wine in Korea. Unfortunately it was a rather mediocre semi-sweet red Simonsvlei (try explaining how to say that to a foreigner) but it has excited the hope that I might find more soon.

We then moved on to find other good things. I was very excited to find Olive Oil and Balsalmic, a feeling which my colleague of Italian heritage appreciated, and eventually Cheddar Cheese, and took great enjoyment in his excitement at the most amazingly huge Apple and Pumpkin pies (which we didn’t buy but were excited about nonetheless) and a huge variety of candy (to use the American term) from the States and other places, as well as a variety of biscuits – sorry, cookies – and cereals and other foods. We both got excited about finding cranberry juice until I read the packaging which said that it was a juice blend including cranberry, made from a concentrate, at which point I lost interest. There was also Ceres Apple and Mango juice but only in monster-packs so it seemed excessive so I didn’t buy it.

Finally we paid for our meagre wares – I will never get used to paying hundreds of thousands for what would cost just thousands in Rands – and headed out. This required us to get our trolley checked by the nice receipt-checking lady (oh, how I miss SA security guards) and getting onto the moving walkway to go up and up and up. My colleague is, by this time, aware that I’m not a fan of escalators. Moving walkways (they are called travellators at the airports) are even less fun, especially when they start out moving flat and you can feel through your feet when they start to go up the slope. On a busy Sunday afternoon at Costco, the women who check the till-slips also make sure that there aren’t too many people and trolleys (shopping-carts), ie weight, on the moving walkway. The first flight was fine but I was decidedly less than happy when, half way up the second, the moving walkway suddenly stopped. I realise that there is no rational basis for my paranoia about escalators and moving walkways but they still make me decidedly uneasy, so the 10 minute wait while the Koreans tried to figure out how to communicate with each other between floors (in the abscense, of course, of walkie-talkies or other radio devices) made me very unhappy.

Eventually we reached the parking lot and – box of happy foods in hand – took the steps to the roof parking instead of waiting for the elevator. Once there, we stopped for a minute to enjoy the beautiful views. It had rained while we were inside, so the world had that newly-washed feel to it, and from the rooftop of Costco we could see across Daegu to beautiful mountains all around (in between the apartment blocks).

We stopped for a coffee on the way home. I am reminded regularly of how good it is to get reasonably coffee all over the place. All in all it was a good day of exploring and discovering and my kitchen is now significantly enriched by olive oil, balsalmic vinager, cheddar cheese and proper italian pasta (which I wouldn’t even have at home) for when I get really hungry for proper food.

Food adventures

Daegu, Food, , , ,

In the past couple of weeks I have done very little exploring. Work has been quite busy. I’m now teaching a variety lower-level classes as well as the higher-level classes I normally teach, so it takes time. It’s also less fun. The higher level classes require more prep and concentration but are definitely preferable. Because the students’ English is better, it’s possible to explore more interesting topics, rather than being limited by their limited English proficiency. With the lower level classes, I quite often feel as if I’m spending the whole lesson desperately trying to make myself understood.

In spite of the lack of fun exploring, I have had the opportunity to try some new foods and restaurants (mostly thanks to my colleague). The first thing he introduced me to was Naengmyeon. First let me say that Korea can sometimes be a rather strange place and the food is no exception. This dish is basically noodles and vegetables and sometimes a slice of cold meat and/or egg. Fairly standard in a lot of cultures, the difference being in the flavours and spices. This dish is also distinctive because of the ice. Naengmyeon is basically a bowl of ice with noodles and vegetables floating in it, or at least that is how it seems at first. The story goes that it was first eaten because there was no water to make the meal, only snow, so the noodles were eaten in a bowl of fresh snow. My sister’s comment was that having to make do without hot water in a particular situation doesn’t mean you have to keep doing it. In fact, Naengmyeon is pretty good. The noodles are buckwheat noodles, the ice they’re served in is really a light iced broth (possibly vegetable broth) and the julienned vegetables are fresh and raw. It makes for a filling and rather refreshing summer meal. The biggest problem I had was that thin buckwheat noodles and julienned vegetables served in iced broth are particularly difficult to eat with chopsticks when you’re as inept with the chopsticks as I am. The noodles are increadibly long and slippery even when cut up, as ours were. I eventually gave up but I am determined to go back for more (because it was really tasty and refreshing) just as soon as I’m better at the eating implements.

Another delightful culinary adventure was the first time trying Bossam. For many traveling to Asia, the joy of the food lies in the vegetable-heavy rice and noodle dishes and the very spicy foods. I’m a home-grown South African carnivore. I really do like meat and three vegetables. So the vegetarian meals and lots and lots of rice are unlikely to enthrall me, although I’ll definitely try and enjoy it. I’m also still not entirely comfortable with the way in which Korean food is served (purely because it’s foreign to me) –  each person gets an individual portion of rice and/or soup or a small plate and the mains and sides are spread across the table to share. I’m never sure exactly what everything is or how to put it all together. This meal is less intimidating than most. It is also protein-rich and a complete delight to anyone who is a fan of pork. At the restaurant where we were, the meal started with a soup made from some sort of leaf (or perhaps seaweed). I’m not sure at all what leaf (perhaps sesame?), but it was good. That was served with bread, followed by the main spread. We each had a small plate and chopsticks. Side dishes included various pickles, including of course kimchi, some tiny, salted shrimps and dipping sauces. The main meal was a platter of sliced, steamed/boiled pork belly as well as some tofu and steamed duck. Alongside this was served a platter of different leafy greens, including lettuces and sesame leaves. This meal is eaten by wrapping the pork belly in the leaves with kimchi and dipping it into the sauces. It is yummy. I adore bacon and this is a variation on that theme, except with the added freshness of various lettuce leaves and picked cabbage or (which I prefer) radish and sweet/hot/slightly salty flavor from the dipping sauces. Our platter included two varieties of pork, one of which had been beautifully smoked. The duck was also delicious. I was less keen on the tofu but I tried it in the spirit of culinary adventure. I imagine some people would find the pork a little fatty and some pieces definitely were, but there were also bits which had less fat, and even those that were fatty were good with the leaves and pickles to cut through the heaviness. Of course eating this all with chopsticks (except the soup) was the usual struggle, but it was far easier than noodles and worth the effort for the taste.

Today we had been considering an even more exotic experience – there had been comments about live fish. Wednesday late lunches have become a bit of a tradition. In the end we settled for (settled on?) Italian food. My colleague wanted to try out a new restaurant or perhaps visit one he hasn’t been to in a while. When we reached the area, we noticed, across the road, somewhere called Table13. It caught my eye across a paved square complete with fountains and edged with gardens. My colleague mentioned that he knew it before it moved to this location. On a whim, we headed a cross there and were not at all sorry. Table13 lived up to all you’d expect from a restaurant at a large, rather fancy-looking art gallery. The setting is elegant and formal. There are many spectacular restaurants in the world known and appreciated for their quirky and unusual approaches, but nothing beats the good, solid, old-fashioned charm of a civilized restaurant with white table-cloths and coloured overlays, heavy silverware and sparkling glasses. Our table looked out over the paved square with fountains just outside the window. The eating area was backed by rows of cellared wine-bottles. The menu was heavy and elegant. The set menu for lunch included an aperitif, pasta and a salad as well as a main (I had grilled salmon with tagliatelle) followed by coffee. We didn’t have all that much time because my colleague had a class but it was a lovely meal. Later on, (we had several hours between classes) we popped up the road to a coffee shop called Ti-amo and had gelato and cappuccinos. Mmm, chocolate ice-cream.

The absence of other adventures is something I want to rectify but the adventures in food, both Asian and European, is still a fantastic and fascinating part of living in a foreign country.

Seasons change

Daegu, Food, ,
Tonight, for the first time since I got here, it wasn’t hot. It’s been hot non-stop since I got here. Day and night. In South Africa, the temperature fluctuates from cool at night to warm or mild during the day. Here it’s just always hot. Hot and humid. Until tonight. I even felt a little chilly at one point, sitting outside a coffee shop called Sleepless in Seattle, drinking pink lemonade.
The seasons are changing. I love watching the seasons change. Autumn to Winter, Winter to Spring. This Autumn is a strange change. It’s not really Autumn yet. The leaves are still green on the trees. A few are starting to change but for the most part the city looks like Summer. But there is something in the air, something restless, something different. Or perhaps it’s all in my head.
Except for the crickets. It’s strange how you don’t notice what is missing until it’s there. All the time I’ve been listening to the incessant cicadas, I didn’t notice that there were no crickets. The cicadas here don’t sound the same as at home. Instead of the high-pitched wail that goes on for ages and ages, these whir at different tones and volumes, getting louder and softer, higher and lower. They’re a little annoying but you don’t notice them that much after a while. They also seem larger and more obvious than I’m used – little green monsters hiding in the bark and the leaves of every tree.
In the last few days, the cicadas have been quieter. They’re still around, but they don’t sing all the time. And into the lull has come the sweet song of crickets. When I got home tonight, I stopped for a moment on the stairs outside my door. The air was rich with the quiet murmurs of the crickets’ songs. The air was cool and the night clear and dark. It felt familiar. Felt a little like home.
Perhaps that’s why I decided to cook when I got home. Food is a strange experience in a foreign country when you not only don’t speak the language but can’t even read the alphabet. For example, I have been struggling to find flour. Just ordinary flour to make a basic white sauce, or as a base, or to cook so many things. Sometimes that’s a good thing because it pushes you to be more adventurous and try new things. Before I left for work today I put a deboned chicken breast in the fridge to defrost. I hadn’t thought about what I’d do with it. I just knew that I’d probably need something to eat when I got home. And then I got home and in a flurry of sudden activity, threw together a delicious meal. For the record, this doesn’t happen that often and will probably shock those who shared homes with me in years gone by. Tonight’s triumph was pan-fried lemon, garlic and rosemary chicken on a bed of salad greens with shaved ham, Camembert and sweet, baby tomatoes. There is such a sense of achievement in creating a particularly good meal, especially when you weren’t really sure how things would turn out. I don’t know if I’ll ever manage to achieve the same effect again. In another time, in another place, the ingredients would be different, the cooker would be different. Perhaps that’s one of the precious things about travel – Lulas pasta in Vilaculos, 3-day roast lamb on Somerset Street, lemon, garlic and rosemary chicken in Boemmul-dong, Daegu. Sometimes things work out, without any recipe, without any plans, as you sit quietly by and watch the seasons change.

Tonight, for the first time since I got here, it wasn’t hot. It’s been hot non-stop since I got here. Day and night. In South Africa, the temperature fluctuates from cool at night to warm or mild during the day. Here it’s just always hot. Hot and humid. Until tonight. I even felt a little chilly at one point, sitting outside a coffee shop called Sleepless in Seattle, drinking pink lemonade.

The seasons are changing. I love watching the seasons change. Autumn to Winter, Winter to Spring. This Autumn is a strange change. It’s not really Autumn yet. The leaves are still green on the trees. A few are starting to change but for the most part the city looks like Summer. But there is something in the air, something restless, something different. Or perhaps it’s all in my head.

Except for the crickets. It’s strange how you don’t notice what is missing until it’s there. All the time I’ve been listening to the incessant cicadas, I didn’t notice that there were no crickets. The cicadas here don’t sound the same as at home. Instead of the high-pitched wail that goes on for ages and ages, these whir at different tones and volumes, getting louder and softer, higher and lower. They’re a little annoying but you don’t notice them that much after a while. They also seem larger and more obvious than I’m used – little green monsters hiding in the bark and the leaves of every tree.

In the last few days, the cicadas have been quieter. They’re still around, but they don’t sing all the time. And into the lull has come the sweet song of crickets. When I got home tonight, I stopped for a moment on the stairs outside my door. The air was rich with the quiet murmurs of the crickets’ songs. The air was cool and the night clear and dark. It felt familiar. Felt a little like home.

Perhaps that’s why I decided to cook when I got home. Food is a strange experience in a foreign country when you not only don’t speak the language but can’t even read the alphabet. For example, I have been struggling to find flour. Just ordinary flour to make a basic white sauce, or as a base, or to cook so many things. Sometimes that’s a good thing because it pushes you to be more adventurous and try new things. Before I left for work today I put a piece of chicken in the fridge to defrost. I hadn’t thought about what I’d do with it. I just knew that I’d probably need something to eat when I got home. And then I got home and in a flurry of sudden activity, threw together a delicious meal. For the record, this doesn’t happen that often and will probably shock those who shared homes with me in years gone by. Tonight’s triumph was pan-fried lemon, garlic and rosemary chicken on a bed of salad greens with shaved ham, Camembert and sweet, baby tomatoes. There is such a sense of achievement in creating a particularly good meal, especially when you weren’t really sure how things would turn out. I don’t know if I’ll ever manage to achieve the same effect again. In another time, in another place, the ingredients would be different, the cooker would be different. Perhaps that’s one of the precious things about travel – Lulas pasta in Vilaculos, 3-day roast lamb on Somerset Street and lemon, garlic and rosemary chicken in Boemmul-dong, Daegu. Sometimes things work out, without any recipe, without any plans, as you sit quietly by and watch the seasons change.