Just like this, with square sheets of seaweed pressed and sun-drying on a row of wooden rolling mats. In Korea, I eat more tuna kimbap–seaweed rolled up with rice, radish, sesame leaf, and a spoon of mashed-up tuna–than sushi, but it all starts with that dark algae plucked from the cool Asian waters.
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Seaweed drying on Ulleungdo Island
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If you’re anything like me, life in Korea might feel like a slippery balance between squirreling away as much Won as possible each month while still spicing up your days with a little indulgence every now and then. Living on ramyeon and spending weekends indoors with your wallet locked up may be good for the number crunchers at Student Loans, but it takes a toll on your spirit. As a former boss of mine in Canada once said after an overtime shift and a general discussion of finances, “you gotta live.”
But living doesn’t have to mean spending big bucks. Starting now, I’m adding a new category to the Coco Busan blog called “Budget Luxuries.” It’ll feature cheap Korea finds that make life sweeter while keeping the bank account balanced, afloat, and hopefully brimming. Starting with this Argentinian Argento Malbec, found at Costco.
This red is smooth. It’s got some dark berry action and a little bit of spice. It tastes great on its own or with an olive and cherry tomato penne. Crack the cork, pour a glass, and in ten minutes it’ll flow with whatever you feel like tossing into a pan. Come to think of it, I bet it would even be awesome with ramyeon. It’s the best budget red I’ve tried in Busan, and it’s only 8,990 won. (For those of you in North America, that’s around eight bucks.) Who knew 2010 was such a stellar vintage?
Cup of tea?
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How about a bowl?
Cinnamon, ginger, and three floating pinenuts…
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with sweet treats served on a wooden tray, on a low wooden table…
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in a room made of pine, that leads to a garden…
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where the petals of a pansy rest on water…
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in a hanok house, in a village called Bukchon…
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north and east of Insadong, in Seoul.
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Next time,
I’m staying the night.
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Check it out: Tea Guesthouse
A lot of business goes down on the street here. Men with little blue trucks set up shop on the sidewalks, unpacking potted cactus plants or bags of puffed rice or piles of plastic slip-on shoes. Outside my apartment building most evenings, you can find a woman crouching on a stool in her truck, deep-frying squid balls in the light of two paper lanterns than dangle from the roof like beacons. I’m not sure what anyone pays to rent the sidewalks, or if permits are even required, but the sellers make street-strolling an adventure for the eyes.
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I spotted this guy in Jinhae, a town Southwest of Busan. Or did he spot me? Not sure what he was selling…I just liked his hat and the pink and black ensemble.
Cotton Candy man on Cherry Blossom row in Gwangan-li. Could there be a more perfect place to sell cotton candy than underneath this tree? (Location, location, location.)
Waffles, fresh off the grill.
Sweet treats.
This old-school machine spits out rice puffs. Batter in, rice puff out.
Just in case you feel like a silk worm snack. The toothpicks help you munch while you stroll. Funny, I never seem to get a craving.
Nothing like a giant block of ice to keep the drinks cool!
This artist uses what I think is some kind of ink tool to make portaits of people while they sit and pose for him. Dianna and Bryan bought a picture of a tiger from him to decorate their apartment. He said it was one of his favourites.
This singer and dancer was selling pure entertainment in Jinhae. He liked to pull his skirt down and have people in the crowd slap his butt.
Leah went for the late-night squid balls on Saturday. I opted for peanut butter toast at home. Yep, you can get the PB here!
Late one evening a couple weeks ago I caught the subway to Seomyeon with Jason, Bryan and Dianna–three of the five teachers who make up my awesome American teaching posse. Jason’s lived here six months; it was Bryan and Dianna’s second night in town.
In the maze of people-packed, neon-lit streets, we couldn’t find the Turkish restaurant Jason hoped to lead us to, so we slipped into a smoky Japanese joint, befriended four bar stools, and feasted on plates of steaming skewers.
Other than the beef surprise I picked out of my udon noodles, and an unfortunate head attached to my mackeral pike, the experience left me intrigued: Korea’s culinary offerings provide mystery for both the palette and the eye.
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Scroll down for two new pics from Cornell class: Daniel and Jason, 6-year-old boys who remind me daily that patience is a teacher’s greatest tool. (Sometimes it can be found in a Friday-night sip of soju!)
