Monthly Archives: September 2009

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.