SOUTH KOREA: BUSAN

I loved my time in Seoul. However, if a gun was placed against my head, I would have to admit that I enjoyed my time in the country’s second city, Busan (Pusan?) even more.

It is not a small place, with a population of nearly four million people. But, it has a small town, almost provincial feel that offered a welcome respite from the megatropolis that was the nation’s capital. It also exudes a more earthy air, hardly surprising as it is a port city and for centuries one of the first places that foreign visitors to the Joseon kingdom would come to ply their trade, which made for what was regarded as an edgy and dangerous place.

Those days are all but gone, but some legacies remain. Across the city, you find signs indicating that the shop owners speak many languages. Not for the foreign tourists, of which there are relatively few but for sailors from the many ships, which find berth in the still bustling harbour. There is also one more legacy, far more interesting for the food enthusiast. Busan is home to the Jalgachi (literally village by the shore) fish market, which is second in size only to Tsukiji in Tokyo and the wafts of fishy scent from the mongers and restaurants lay heavily over the lower reaches of the city.

We arrived from Seoul after an short two hour journey on the excellent K-Rail connection between the two cities and, after dropping our bags off at the rather eccentric hotel we had chosen, went out to visit the area around the port. The main fish market, of course, only comes to life in the early hours of the morning. However, surrounding the main building are alleyways filled with restaurants, in front of which are tanks from which you can select your live fish or seafood to be prepared to your liking.

Next to the Jalgachi, is a six-storey building called Shindonga, which houses vast numbers of fishmongers who offer the same service. Cases of live fish are situated next to bright yellow tables. While elderly women bark out to attract customers, the apron clad owners scoop the fish from their water baths and dispatch them with a efficiency that can only come from years of practice.

It’s not cheap, but then great seafood never is and, after treating ourselves to a simply grilled snapper, we headed back towards the main town in search of something more substantial. We found it in the form of Samgyetang, a small chicken, stuffed with rice and fresh ginseng and poached in a close fitting container to form a light broth. While Syb found it a little bland, for me it was one of the eating highlights during our whole time in Korea and definitely a dish that I intend to make at home in the near future.

After a slightly fitful night’s sleep, we awake at 5am and went straight out to the fish market. It was certainly impressive, compared to some I had seen, but paled in comparison to Tsukiji (as I suspect any market I ever visit always will) and we were soon headed back to our hotel to catch up on some much needed rest.

As in Seoul, our time in Busan was limited and we wanted to fit in as much as was humanly possible. Close to Busan and very accessible by use of its limited but efficient subway system, are a number of beach resorts where locals and Korean tourists spend their vacation time. One of the largest is Haeundae, a few miles to the East of the city.

Unsurprisingly, in November, few locals had chosen to spend their day on the windswept beach, which left us pretty much to our own devices as we strolled along the promenade. Towards the end of our walk and just when our stomachs were reminding us that we had not yet had lunch, we came upon a smart restaurant called HaeunMaru, which later research revealed to be one of the best fish restaurants in the region.

Even if we had not done the research, it would have been very clear that this was no ordinary fish restaurant. Prices were not for the faint hearted, at over $100 for two. But, the quality of the food on offer made this one of the best meals of the whole vacation. We began with a tray of assorted raw seafood, including abalone, conch, oysters, shrimps and clams. All were breathtakingly fresh and all (apart from the oysters which I avoided for fear of death) as good as any I have ever tried. These came alongside dishes of excellent banchan and a bowl of steaming Chawanmushi, the savoury egg custard I had become such a fan of during my time in Japan.

Next up, a plate of fresh local fish which had been simply grilled and given a dousing in lemon juice before being served to us at the table. While we ate the flesh, the bones were taken away and used to make a thin, spicy fish soup bulked out with noodles and sliced spring onions. A fantastic end to a meal, which confirmed everything I already love about Korean food.

By the time we returned to the city, it was already dark and we spent our last evening in Korea walking through the streets thronged with kids as we decided on where to have our last meal or snack of this part of the trip. We noticed that one particular street stall appeared to be much busier than all the rest and joined the queue to find out what all the fuss was about.

At the head of the line, a short, plump woman was wrapping dough around a filling of brown sugar, honey and cinnamon before frying them on a hot plate until golden brown on both sides. When they were ready to be served, she placed them in a paper cup, split the top and then filled the cavity with roasted peanuts and sesame seeds. These were Ho-tteok and were certainly a sweet treat. Perhaps too sweet for me, but Sybil loved them and talks about them still.

Fitting enough that our last day in the energetic city of Busan, indeed our last day (for now) in Korea would offer up two of the best tastes of a week’s worth of incredible eating. Enough for certain to ensure that we both are certain we would like to return and discover more of what Korea has to offer.

In the meantime, however, the vacation was only just beginning and we were off to Singapore and Malaysia.

More anon.

HAM JI PARK: STICKING MY NECK OUT FOR PORK STEW IN K TOWN

I had eaten more pork ribs than any right thinking man should ever probably consider during Road Trip USA 2010. Eating more on my return was certainly the furthest thing from my mind.

However, when Sybil suggested that I join her and some friends for supper of pork neck stew and ribs in Korea Town the day after I got back to Los Angeles, I just found myself simply unable to resist. I am a gorgeous man, but I am not a strong willed man.

Those of you who read the blog on a regular basis will know that I am developing quite a passion for Korean food, based on my experiences here on the West Coast. It may be founded on enthusiasm rather than any great knowledge at this point, but it is strong enough that our next great travel adventure will be to Seoul and Busan in November. I am so excited I already have a countdown clock ticking away on my computer.

Until the happy day when we set off, the abundant selection of Korean food in LA is managing to suffice quite nicely thank you very much. With the help of Sybil and her pals, I am managing to experience a wide of cooking styles from this varied cuisine and am slowly beginning to realise that it is not all about Korean BBQ.

As if to prove the point, our supper that night was at Ham Ji Park. It is actually well known for its BBQ and had recently been awarded second prize for its skills in that direction at the 2nd Annual L.A. Korean BBQ Cook Off. However, we were not there for the ‘Q, I was instructed. We were their for their equally famous Gamjatang, a stew made with pork neck and potatoes. The name, I am told means “Potato Soup” and the broth was originally flavoured with spine bones, but now uses the more available neck bones.

Sybil and I met two of her friends at a nearby Korean bar for a happy hour drink, which were accompanied by a large plate of fried chicken gizzards with deep fried garlic. Then we walked a couple of blocks up 6th Street to where Ham Ji Park was already beginning to fill up and our friends were waiting.

So often, when I go out to dinner with people, I am handed the menu with the words “you are a food expert, why don’t you order?” and, quite frankly, usually I am more than happy to do so as it means I can be sure that all the dishes I want to try hit the table. When it comes to Korean food in L.A, however, I bow before Sybil’s friend, Amanda. So, I just sat back and sipped on my drink while she babbled to our server and everyone else shouted at her to make sure she didn’t forget any food substance vital to our night’s enjoyment.

She didn’t, and it was only a matter of a few minutes before the small plates of banchan began to be placed at strategic points along the table. Following soon after these were two big bowls of, Bo Kum Bop, Kimchi fried rice, topped with chopped Spring onions and a raw egg. Amanda began to mix the contents expertly until the rice had turned from white to rusty red.

Next up, the Dae Ji Galbi, Korean spicy pork ribs, which had been marinated and then grilled. They could not have been more different from the ribs I had tried on the road trip, like those rib tips at Roper’s in Saint Louis, the wet ribs at Payne’s in Memphis or the dry rubbed ribs at Rendezvous in the same city. However, I couldn’t help but think that the proprietors of those noble restaurants would approve of what this new wave of immigrants to the US were doing with Brer Pig.

Finally, came the much lauded pork neck stew, simmering away in its metal serving bowl. The pork neck bones were flecked with chilli and glistened in a deep red broth alongside chunks of softening potato. The meat was tender but still required a bite and the long, slow cooking had released all the flavour from the bones, which added to the depth of the chilli broth. Despite the fact I had topped up my already high meat table pretty rapidly, I kept spooning the delicious juices from the serving bowl to my mouth until I gave out a loud spicy burp and stopped for fear I would start sweating red broth during my sleep.

We called for the bill, a paltry $22 each including tip and the ladies wrapped what little remains there were in take out boxes to be enjoyed for lunch the next day. However much I love the pig, I could not even begin to imagine looking at ribs, necks or any other swiney part for a while and handed mine over to Sybil for safe keeping.

I am now on a more sensible diet for a while. I am on the wagon and really enjoying the abundant harvest of fruits and vegetables to be found in California until I lose some weight and my bodily functions return to somewhere near normal. However, with more winning Korean dishes like this on offer, I can’t wait for the next trip.

Eighty days and counting. TICK. TOCK.

DON DAE GAM: UP IN SMOKE IN K-TOWN

Visits to Korean BBQ places in K-Town have been amongst my eating highlights since I’ve been visiting Los Angeles. When Sybil told me that she was joining a couple of her girlfriends for supper at Don Dae Gam, I didn’t take a lot of persuading to join them, even though I suspected there would be far too many discussions about feelings, Colin Firth and clothing for my liking.

Fortunately, Sybil and her friends also have a capacity to eat that puts even my own to shame. I knew that, even if I did have to listen to conversations that did not once include the words “car chase” or “Seagal” I would at least be able to numb the pain by concentrating on the food.

I wasn’t wrong.

Sybil and I arrived before our two friends. It took us a little while to find the place, slightly confused by the still prominent sign of the previous incumbent, Parks BBQ (they are owned by the same people I found out later). Once inside however, it was obvious that few other people had encountered similar issues and it was packed enough to make me appreciate Sybil’s earlier insistence that we make reservations.

Don Dae Gam, specialises in Pork BBQ and, unlike the places that I had visited before, cooks the meat over charcoal rather than gas. On the one hand that adds a touch of that dreaded word “authenticity” on the other it does mean that you inevitably emerge from the restaurant smelling like the ashtray of a 1970’s Vauxhall Viva. Fortunately, as those of you who have met me will know, none of my clothes are smart enough for that to matter much, but I did fear for tables occupied by men and women in seemingly more expensive clothing.

The banchan (side dishes) were some of the best I have tried anywhere in L.A.so far. There were bowls of terrific kimchi, fiery enough to raise a few beads of sweat, potato slices, a fresh green salad placed on the table alongside rice cakes and pickles. Best of all, was a bowl of gaeran jim, steamed egg, whose smooth contents occupied our attention until it was time to watch the meat being prepared.

It appears that the Koreans love their offal almost as much as I do and I was pleased to see pork tongue, diaphragm and intestine on the menu. We plumped for the intestines and then padded out our order with more conventional plates of pork belly and short rib, sitting back as the staff took care of the cooking.

Thick slabs of pork belly were first, cooked on both sides and then snipped into inch long pieces. We tossed them around on the burner sending enough flames licking around the pieces of meat to crisp up the edges. They were soon followed by the short ribs, which had been marinated prior to cooking and we spent the next ten minutes playing “Battling chopsticks” as we fought for the prime pieces, dipping them in an assortment of soy bean paste, flavoured salt and chilli sauce.

A particular highlight were the intestines, which looked singularly unappealing in their raw state as they slimed around in a murky liquid. Once on the grill however, they began to sizzle and pop and were soon taking on a fantastic char. The end result did not appeal to my dining companions as much as to me and I was left to feast on the majority of the crisp, chewy, salty bites of pig inside, while they concentrated on the arrival of two other dishes.

Concerned that three orders might possibly not provide enough meat, my female friends had ordered a dish of Bo Ssam, cold belly pork with lettuce wraps. It looked great and I was ready to tuck in until I noticed that, in the middle of the plate, hidden amongst shreds of (I think) kimchi, were quivering raw oysters. I love oysters, but they don’t return the favour and even the sniff of them can make me throw up quicker than a supermodel who has walked past a Dunkin’ Donuts by mistake.

Instead, while the others made delicate little lettuce packages, I turned to the final dish of Naki Jeongol, a stew of octopus and wafer thin sliced pork in a sauce of space/time continuum splitting fieriness. It proved to be one dish too many and although we all thought it tasted great, we poked at it unenthusiastically, finally admitting defeat and asking for the bill and some take-away containers.

The total came to $33 person, which included a couple of beers and a well-deserved tip. Not bad value for a meal, which had us all waddling out onto Western Ave, swearing off meat for the foreseeable future. Mind you, to that price, you also have to add the cost of dry-cleaning whatever clothes you have been wearing.

Fortunately, I carry off the heady scent of charcoal and grilled pork rather well, which might also explain why Sybil has found me sniffing my jacket and sighing twice in the few days since we ate at Don Dae Gam.

Can’t wait to go back.