It is like an old joke. You know, the one about the horse that walks into the bar… The kind of joke that makes your eyes roll before the punch line?
Airline food? Why is it so bad?
Yet, Asian frequent flyers may have brighter gastronomic horizons for future flights.
This past week, on the sunny island of Jeju-do (Korea’s Hawaii), chefs from various airlines, including Korean Air, Asiana, and TKJ (a subsidiary of Japan Airlines) gathered for a culinary competition.
Out of a final three including lobster in a fish egg sauce, fresh water fish in a mushroom sauce, and chicken in a miso sauce, the undisputed king of cheap and easy, chicken, won.
Winner, Japanese Chef Masaru Morita from TFK, spoke with the humility of an iron chef.
“I tried to give an international touch to the food for international passengers and take taste and economic aspects into consideration. I believe judges highly evaluated those points,’’ he said in The Korea Times.
Though flying times between major North Asian are cities relatively short, meals are guaranteed on every flight. On a recent flight to Shanghai to Seoul, I was served what had to be hands down the most foul airline food I’ve ever tried to eat.
How about you? I want to hear it. Bests? Worsts?
My trans pacific flights on United have always greeted me with fantastic Indian curries (when ordering vegetarian ALWAYS go for Indian vegetarian). Yet, let me complain. Never, ever do you get dessert when you order veggie. Why? Really, stuck in a pressurized, stale air cabin, in seat 42F, with the screaming baby in front of me, and Mr. “lower and raise my tray table 500 times,” behind me, for 12 long hours, what about this situation would suggest that I wouldn’t enjoy a cookie, or square of dense, frosted chocolate cake. Screw the fruit cup.
I will say though, vegetarian or special meals get delivered first.
For more Inflight meals, the good, the bad, and the ugly, read on
Late last month I posted that there was little in the culinary way to note the changing of the seasons.
Not true.
To the trained Korean eye, plenty, other than the cooling temperatures elude to the time of the season.
Speaking of cooler weather, the snappy chill in the air is perfect for drying out the summer’s harvest of red chilies. All over the city you can find hundreds of chili peppers spread out on mats, sunbathing. Catching a blur of ruby red as I whiz past on the scooter is as thrilling as spotting an egg in an Easter egg hunt.
Later, the ladies of the house remove seeds and stems, then grind the chilies (or take them to the neighborhood mill to be ground) to make gochu powder.
Other fall nods, include a desire for heavier food. JoongAng Daily writer Cho Jae-eun, published a piece on Jokbal earlier this month, as the ultimate comfort food. “It might sound exotic for non-Koreans, but to locals, the dish remains a dependable friend — the kind you sometimes take for granted but that you always come back to for consolation.”
Jokbal is pig’s trotters, feet and legs, generally sliced and boiled in an enticing broth that can include, soy sauce, ginger, sugar, garlic, and on and on.
My review of Arvorig came out in the Korea Times the past weekend, and you can read it here.
Arvorig re-opened its doors after a long closure, and I am thankful they did. With a corner on the crepe market in Seoul, Arvorig sends out both savory and dessert crepes that incite mouth watering.
Them menu, slightly revamped, allows for custom-built crepes, a small selection of quiche, salads, and drinks.
The wine list features mostly French wines with a few cost saving Chiliads, however, for a touch of authenticity, enjoy your crepes with a mug of low-alcohol cider. That’s how the do it in the birth place of crepes, Brittany.
Of the two, if you had to guess which one was a treat for a dog, and which was a piece of tuna jerky would you say it was A or B?
Cruising the aisles of my local su-pa mar-tu, I came across a new treat in the refrigerated section. Sandwiched in between packs of sliced processed day-glow cheese singles and pre-packaged ddok (rice cakes) sat a lone pack of tuna Jerky.
Ok, well maybe I shouldn’t call this a treat. Actually, it is pretty gross, tuna-y with a hint of sweetness; translucent, with a pinkish hue, and remarkably similar to one of Sir’s chicken dog treats, visually.
Jerky (if you are interested) is familiar to us thanks to the Spanish (who took the word from the Peruvian word charqui-dried meat). The American Indians were well into Jerky, as it is suitable for nomadic folk. So my question is, why tuna? I wonder if in the early 80’s Oh Boy Oberto came over and tried out a bulgogi or galbi jerky and failed? I think that would taste good.
For a while I’ve wanted to capture street eats and without further ado….
The Breakdown:
Hutdok, a fried dough round stuffed with brown sugar and spices. They are 500won, roughly 50 US cents for one. These are mad popular. I have waited up to 20 minutes for one. But the wait is worth it. Fried dough. Glistening, sugary fried dough. Does it get any better than that?
Mini-kim bap. There are many varieties, clearly marked in English and Korean. Expect to pay 2,000won-3,000won depending on how many you select. This particular stand is in Insadong and the ajuma is quite sweet. Through her giggles she kept handing me cups of water after seeing my face turn fuchsia while eating that crazy spicy kimbap
Mondu twigam, freshly made fried mondu. These are some of the best I’ve tried in Korea. 2,000won for three. I have only seen these in the Hwanghak-dong flea market. If you walk down the chunggyecheon, east of Dongdaemoon, you’ll hit the flea market. Some of the buildings have large numbers painted on the upper right side, and this stand can be found, I think, between 14 and 15? Maybe 16? There is a dude selling used books on the corner, this is where you should turn right. The stand will be on your left.
Cups of fresh summer cherries, around 2,00won. Fruit is a popular summer street snack. You can often find spears of melon or pineapple for 1,000won. The sliced fruit is kept on ice for all you would be health inspectors out there.
On the right Japanese favorite tako-yaki, dough balls with chopped octopus and veggies. 2,000won for 5, 3,000won for 8. They are super hot and will scald the inside of your mouth if you are not careful.
A variety of dried and roasted squid on a cart. Koreans eat it like Americans eat beef jerky. It is quite a sight to see someone gnawing away on a foot long purple octopus tentacle, suckers still intact.
Mini sausages are starting to replace the full sized sausages, and I am glad. It has always concerned me, these long sausages on a sharp wooden stick. What if you were taking a bite and someone ran into you on the street. That skewer would totally go through your cheek and you’d be on your way to the emergency room. Much better, I think, to gingerly poke at a mini sausage with a toothpick. 2,000-3,000won.
Kimchi guk-su, a noodle dish with kimchi, acorn jelly, chopped lettuce and seaweed for 2,500won.
Egg toast. Eggs mixed with cabbage and carrots then placed in between two slices of bread. Around 1,500won. You can always jazz it up with a slice of processed ham or processed American cheese.
Sweet dough is filled with a dab of sweet red bean paste on the left. 1,000-2,000won. These always smell good, and are nice when wandering the cold winter streets.
The ddokboggie stand. From left to right in the back is, sundae, a popular blood sausage, ddokboggie, rice cakes in a fiery chili sauce, and chicken and leek skewers brushed with a sweet chili sauce. In the front, twigam, mixed veggies, sweet potato, chili peppers, squid, small kim bap, and mandu, all battered and deep-fried. Expect to spend 2,000-5,000won depending on how much you order.
A snack many Koreans eat as children, then again as seniors, bundaegi, simmered silkworm larva. The stench alone keeps me from trying this, but many people swear to me that it has a savory taste, like chicken. You can get a better look at bundaegi here.
In touristy areas such as Insadong, where many of these photos were taken, Dongdaemoon market, or Myeongdong vendors are patient with tourists. Point to what you want, and smile.
The point of the following ramblings is to get you over to David Lebovitz’s blog to read his posting on harvesting grey sea salt off the coast of Brittany. I decided to put that info first incase you got all like, “Oh, here she goes again, going on and on about something I have mild interest in. Yawn. I’ll stop here.” No. I couldn’t let that happen. But after you finish reading over there, come back here.
Last night I ate at a restaurant I will be reviewing for an upcoming issue of the Times, and was treated to a dessert with a generous helping of home made salted caramel. It was stunningly delicious. My table ohh and ahhed, heads began nodding with silent approval, in-between bites, low indiscernible affirmable mummers could be heard.
Sweet and salty, is, in my opinion, the classic dessert combination. While back in Seattle I dropped 10USD on a box, no sleeve, of 9 hand dipped caramels in dark chocolate sprinkled with gray sea salt from Frans chocolates. I am a bit of a hedonist with it comes to sweets. I have been known to polish off a box of chocolates in one sitting unapologetically. These, however, were special. Appreciating the smoky flavor, I only needed one. I wanted more, but I knew I would spoil the magic if I unhinged my jaw, and let the contents of the plastic tube slide into my mouth.
Some of my most favorite food blogs these days are coming out of Singapore. And why wouldn’t they be? It is a city famous for a smattering of cultures and a kaleidoscope of cuisines, where street food rivals white tablecloths establishments, and chili crab reigns supreme. If you are a foodie, make it a point to get to the city-state at some point. Preferably soon.
Having recently started eating meat again after a 10-plus year absence, I am still a little skittish on the texture issue. Uniform, people, uniform. No surprises, please. Gnawing away on pork belly sounded as appetizing, as, wall, gnawing away on a giant piece of fat. In our mini fridge (Yes. Our fridge is a mini fridge. Don’t judge) sat a beautifully marbled piece of salmon and soon the brain waves started buzzing. “Pork belly is fat, salmon has fat. It can work!”
After a battery of ingredients began to boil, a beguiling aroma wafted through the apartment. A long absence had transpired since I last combined cloves, star anise, and ginger in a sugar solution.
I quickly seared the salmon, achieving the desired crispy browning, and after having strained the liquid, braised the salmon for a brief time. Braising is traditionally used for tough meats that desire a certain state of tenderness. Fish is not something one would traditionally braise. But poach? Why not.
What resulted was a salty/sweet syrup in which rested a tender buttery piece of fish. Lunchtime was never so divine.
Daffy’s recipe called for a mixture of light and dark soy sauce, and if you cook in Korea, please let me know if we have light soy sauce. Being a resident of a metric speaking country her recipe also featured the dreaded liter and milliliters, causing me to guesstimate. I found the sauce a tad on the salty side. Figuring I used too much soy sauce, I was surprise to find an empty fish sauce bottle in the recycling bin the next morning. Whoops.
Oolong Tea Steeped Salmon Adapted from Daffy’s posting of
Anderson Ho’s Oolong Tea Steeped Pork Belly from the book Menu DeGustation.
Serves 4. Total time (cook and prep) about 45 minutes.
*note: You can find spices like cinnamon sticks, cloves, and star anise at the Discount International Food market next to what the book in Itaewon. They also carry fried shallots and fresh cilantro.
A good, fat pinch of Oolong tealeaves
15ml (or 1 Tablespoon) dark soy sauce (this is where I accidentally used fish sauce)
100ml (or 6 and a half Tablespoons) light soy sauce
3 cinnamon sticks
2 cloves
3 star anise
1.5 liters (about 6 cups) chicken stock
1-inch knob of peeled ginger
1/4 cup rice wine (I used mirin, a Japanese rice wine)
1-2 Tablespoons brown sugar to taste
300g Salmon, seasoned with salt and pepper
1. In a large saucepan combine Oolong tealeaves, cinnamon sticks, cloves, star anise, chicken stock, soy sauces, ginger and rice wine and simmer for 20 minutes.
2. Sear the salmon on both sides in a medium skillet over high heat. What you want is a crispy brown crust to form on the edges and the middle.
3. Using a fine meshed strainer, strain the poaching liquid into a measuring cup or container. Pout the liquid in the pan with the salmon until the liquid comes a little more than half way up the fish. Simmer in the braising liquid for 5 minutes or until tender. Timing is everything for this recipe. Watch how long you sear the fish for. You may end up cooking it through if you leave it in the pan too long. I like my salmon a little pink in the center, and found around five minutes to be fine.
4. One the fish is ready, remove the salmon and slice into individual servings.
5. Bring braising liquid to a boil and add cornstarch solution. Give it a couple of minutes to thicken. You want the sauce to coat the back of a spoon.
6. Serve salmon over rice with sauce and garnish with crispy shallots and cilantro/coriander.
The subtle crispness in the air, the ability to sleep at night, a jacket for the morning commute, yes, it is fall.
Finally temperatures have cooled in Seoul. This means I am no longer camping out at Starbucks in front of monolithic air conditioners, bowing down to a false idol. My clothing is no longer regulated to a uniform of breathable jersey t-shirts and skirts (thank you American Appeal). No. I am now free to wear my skinny jeans, oxford shirts, and if I dare, boots. Gasp.
In Seattle I eagerly awaited fall like a child waiting for her birthday. A bounty of winter squashes, dark greens and the return of asparagus were my presents. I couldn’t wait to pull out my trusty orange Le Creuset Dutch oven, stained with years of use, and start a stew or polenta.
With the exception of the pine mushroom, a mushroom that grows at the base of pine trees absorbing a unique pine flavor, fall isn’t specially marked by the return of produce or seasonal dishes. Folks go about like they had before with a few less bowls of Naeng Myeong and a couple less patbingsus.
For me, however, fall is still special, because I can finally turn on the freekin’ stove and make coffee without sweating! Kev and I have started buzzing about the kitchen again, discourse has returned to food related themes.
One of our first fall dishes was a vegetable and ddok sauté. Crisp tender veggies, slightly browned, and toothsome ddok (rice cakes), captured the essence of fall noshing. Comfortable and familiar like putting on a favorite oversized wool sweater. Charmingly rustic, the mix warmed the belly and whetted the appetite for a season of hearty eats.
Ddok and Veggie Stir Fry
Serves two.
2 cups ddok (Korean rice cakes, logs cut on the diagonal found in the refrigerated section at the supermarket)
2 potatoes, quartered
1 Melon, sliced
Handful kale, de-stemmed and chopped
1 carrot, cut to bite sized pieces
2 T soy sauce
1 T garlic
2 leeks, finely chopped
2 T sugar
1 T sesame oil
1 tsp gochu flakes
Prepare all veg, steam the potato quarters 7 minutes to soften
In a bowl, mix the soy sauce, garlic, leeks, sugar, sesame oil, and gochu. This is your flavor base. You can always adjust the taste later.
Wait to cook the ddok until you are absolutely ready to use it, or it will turn hard. To cook the ddok, bring about 4 cups of water to a boil in a saucepan. Add the ddok and let cook 3 minutes. You want the ddok to start getting soft, but not too soft, much like you would when cooking pasta. Ddok is great for absorbing flavors, and you want it to suck up the sauce, not the water.
Heat a large skillet and add a tbsp of oil. Add the ddok, potatoes, melon, carrots, and kale. Stir occasionally, for 5 minutes. Aim for a small golden crust on the veg and ddok. Add the sauce and simmer for 5 minutes. Here I like to give the mixture one stir at the beginning to coat, but then leave it alone for the next 5. If you can resist the urge to tamper, you will be rewarded with a sauce reduction, stickily adhered to the mixture. Delicious.
Serve over rice, preferably brown, because as you can see there is no protein in this dish.
Friday my review of Kuai 19 came out in the Korea Times. You can read it here.
I have mixed feelings on the place. The good and the bad are even keeled. The atmosphere is beautiful. It is a rare treat when a restaurant can remove you from Seoul. Ajumas, cab drivers, and the guy who wanders through your neighborhood, blaring on and on about computer and tv repairs, magically fade away. Decked out in pinks, rustic furnishings, and quietly elegant nick knacks reminded me of Hanoi or Hoi An.
Kuai 19 is another one of those restaurants who’s prices do not properly reflect the quality of the food. Given that this is Sinsa-dong, I expect to pay more, however 17,000won for a plate of garlic fried chicken that doesn’t even come with a side of rice, causes me to raise an eyebrow. Had the price been a few cheon less (I’m thinking 14,000won) I wouldn’t care.
Price points, though are one way to attract and repell customers. Obivously Kuai 19, like most restaurants in this area are looking for young Koreans with plastic.
The service, if you can call it that is somewhat of an afterthought. Clad in too short aqua blue eyelet tops, would be B-list models lackadasily flip their swoop hair from one side to the other. They may be nice to look at, but don’t make for attentive service. Too busy imagining themselves in a Comme de Garcons Paris show I guess.
To date this is the best Chinese food I’ve had in Seoul. The selection is wide, and the English menu boosts points. I would recommend this restaurant, but with strong warnings as to what to expect, and what to order. This is not the place to go if your favorite restaurant is Carni Station.
Right now, over on eGullet, there is a fun thread concerning members favoirte Japanese snacks.
eGullites are posting pictures of food-stuff from the simple to the bizarre. Some of them I am familiar with. As a kid I had a few Japanese friends who would share their pocky with me at lunch. When I got a little older, I would spend all my extra cash on treats from Uwajimaya, THE Japanese grocery store in Bellevue. My absolute favorites included milk pocky, milk candy, and Super Lemons. Remember those? In defense of the milk, it was far closer to yogurt flavor than milk. How gross would that be? A candy that tastes like non-fat milk? Ew.
