The other night C. and I were hungry, and he asked what I wanted and I said "I don't care, what do YOU want?" He suggested spicy chicken. I happily agreed, and was thinking of this great chicken dish with loads of vegetables and glass noodles and sliced rice cake in this spicy sauce. I've had it before, but not for a long time, and I LOVE it! When C. pulled up in front of a chicken joint kind of like "KFC" (meaning, with lots of varieties of deep fried chicken I let out a bit of a disappointed "ohhhhhh - THAT kind of chicken!"
"You don't want?"
So we drove around for a bit more and C. pulled over and pointed out a small barely noticeable restaurant. "How about pig?"
"Yah, pig's ok." I said as I opened the door and stuck one foot out. "Wait a minute, what kind of pig?"
"Huh?" he asked.
"What part of the pig?"
He didn't know the English word, but swirled his fingers around in front of the lower part of his belly.
"Intestines?!?! Awwwww, C.!!!"
He laughed. He's such a good sport, and I realize that my idea of "normal" food doesn't exactly mesh with his.
We got out and walked across the street.
To an eel restaurant.
Eel is not bad at all, but the pathetic looking things languishing in the tanks outside turned me off. "They don't look so happy," I said, pointing to the eels. "And those ones look dead." (And decomposing.) Nix that.
A little more way up the road he pointed to a nice looking restaurant and said "Let's go there."
"OK!" I said. It was a BBQ kind of place, and they'd have a variety of choices. BBQ's smoky and yummy. The waitress came over and C. ordered and she came back with a big trolley and unloaded out side dishes and meat. Mmmmm! Good choice, C.! Ribs!
Here's some of the side dishes. Kimchi. Garlic. Hot Peppers. Seaweed in Sticky Sauce. Car Keys. Cigarettes.
There was also the standard shredded cabbage with mayonnaise and ketchup. Pervasive and strange. And there was seasoned bean sprouts (C.'s fave) and big slices of mushrooms and zucchini and onions (mine!)
"Mool" kimchi (delicious) and a bowl of sliced onions with wasabi in a vinegary sauce.
The waitress cut the ribs apart with scissors and loaded up the grill.
The meat has already been seasoned and cooked somewhat by some means. On the grill they're just getting that smoky crispy heated through finishing touch, really.
What's that white thing in the foreground?
Ahhhhh! We are Michael Jackson Impersonators! They give you a white mesh glove inside a clear plastic glove to pick up the meat! Good idea! I always thought all the finger licking that goes along with rib-eating was kind of ick-o. Actually, I'm pretty sure finger licking is fairly taboo at the table in Korea.
So anyhow, you pick the rib off the grill with your chopsticks and stick it in a little bowl with some kind of clear sauce, or in the onion and wasabi dish. When you're sure it's not going to burn your lips, you pick it up and eat it!
I am The Gloved One Eating My Rib.
These were delicious, but a lot of work for little yield. They weren't very meaty at all, and thankfully not fatty either. But they tasted great, and with all the side dishes and a shared order of "mool neng myun" (chewy noodles with a bit of sliced pork, fruit, and vegetables in an icy spicy vinegared broth) we were so full, so came home to watch a video and chill out.
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