Korea: Preserving The Past

Vacations & Travel - Winter 2004

There’s an old Korean saying, “A man can live without a wife but not without kimchi”. In fact there are a lot of sayings about this unique fermented vegetable dish which is so intrinsic to Korean cuisine that a meal without it would be unthinkable. Another is that with kimchi a meal is already half complete – with the addition of rice, it can suffice as a meal if necessary. For tourists visiting Korea, it is kimchi – sometimes written as gimchi or kimchee – that most assaults the senses. Aromatic with a tangy taste and often spicy hot, it appears on every table. While nowadays it is more commonly stored in refrigerators, you’ll still often see glazed pottery storage jars in courtyards and balconies.

Koreans originally turned to fermenting their foods because of the cold, harsh winters. They’ve been doing it for thousands of years but the introduction of red chillies in the 17th century helped them perfect the process, enabling the vegetables to retain a crunchiness that other preserving methods couldn’t. Because Koreans have been eating fermented food for so long, an enormous amount of symbolism has developed around it, so much so that an entire museum has been dedicated to it in downtown Seoul. Making good kimchi is a highly regarded attribute, and it is often used to judge a woman’s prowess in the kitchen. There’s another old Korean saying that a good wife should be able to make 12 kinds of kimchi. Cabbage and white radish are the most common ingredients but the variations are almost limitless.

The locals will eat it any place, any time, but foreigners might have trouble facing it for breakfast. My Lonely Planet guide tells me that many foreigners describe their first encounter with kimchi as a “near death experience … but then they get used to it and finally become thoroughly addicted”. Kimchi is not the only challenge awaiting visitors, who will experience a cuisine unlike any they have tasted before. Even the etiquette to go with it is very particular, right down to the number of dishes served and the order in which they are placed on the table.

One of the finest but nevertheless most challenging meals we had was at the Nong Chon Han Jeong Shik restaurant in the east cost city of Gangneung, an area known for its seafood and soondubu (soft beancurd). Several tofu dishes were served, along with crab sticks, steamed stingray and a fish stew which had the appearance of animal brains but was actually fish intestines. Another dish which created a talking point was a small fish, still with the head on and bulging with roe, so much so that the eggs were not only inside the fish but spilling outside as well. Considered a delicacy, it was crunchy but relatively bland, offering more of a textural experience than any particular flavour.

Everywhere around Gangneung we saw chillies lying on mats on the roadside to dry in the sun, ready to be turned into dried chilli powder. These mats - bright blue in vivid contrast with the red chillies - even lined the entrance to Ojukheon, the picturesque residence which was the birthplace of Yi Yulgok, a philosopher, educator and scholar of Confucianism who died in 1584. The wonderful old kitchen has been preserved and in the adjacent municipal museum, there are some fantastic old kitchen implements among the collection of 4000 folk relics, including rice cake moulds, a noodle maker and wooden cake moulds. Six kilometers north of Gangneung, sashimi restaurants line Gyeongpo Beach, while a little further north, Sokcho has Korea’s largest harvest of squid. It’s common in coastal markets to see squid drying in the breeze, and everywhere – even at roadside service areas – you’ll see lots of dried fish and squid for sale.

At one of these roadside cafes enroute to the border with North Korea, we had the joys of experiencing bibimbap, definitely superior to anything one might get at an Australian service centre. The presentation varies from region to region, but generally it is served in a hot stone pot with a layer of rice topped with assorted stir-fried vegetables and sometimes meat. A whole raw egg placed on top cooks by the heat of the dish as you stir it through. We savoured the meal thinking we might not get much once we crossed the border into North Korea, having heard all the stories about how the communist north is experiencing a food famine. But amazingly, the Hyundai company has established a little South Korean enclave in the scenic Mt Geumgang region of North Korea and if it wasn’t for the border crossing taking four hours to complete, we might never have even known that we’d left the south.

Hyundai has forged a deal with the North Korean government allowing it to bring tourists in by road, and the artificial resort it has created brings in all its supplies from south Korea and neighbouring countries. This two-night tour, worthwhile if only for the scenery, leaves guests peering through barbed wire and armed checkpoints to catch just a glimpse of the poverty we’ve all heard about. As the staff - all wearing badges of their Dear Leader Kim Jong II - go discretely about their jobs, we feast on bulgolgi, Korea’s much-loved barbecued beef. Macramé bead curtains, blue lace and silk flowers decorate the restaurant as we sit at low tables on cushions on the floor in the typical Korean way. The beef is cooked on a small charcoal grill and piled into lettuce leaves to be eaten with the hands.

Bulgolgi is particularly associated with Seoul, where there are many restaurants specializing in it. For a special experience, sample this and other traditional dishes at the Sorabol restaurant in The Shilla, one of Seoul’s leading hotels. Its chefs have produced a beautiful book, The Food of Korea, with information and recipes. Many Seoul restaurants also specialise in Pyeongyang naengmyon, cold buckwheat noodles in a rich broth with thinly sliced boiled meat and pickled cucumber. Buckwheat is a staple crop in Gangwon-do province, where the Hyoseok Cultural Festival is held every year around Bongpyeong. The event celebrates buckwheat and brings to life people and places mentioned in the novel Around Buckwheat Flower Season written by celebrated writer Yi Hyo-seok. At the watermill mentioned in the novel, visitors can learn how buckwheat flour is made and try their hand at hulling it for themselves.

Further south in Gyeongsangbuk-do province, three of the region’s five major festivals are centred around food and drink. The Yeongju Punggi Ginseng Festival early in October includes ginseng cooking and experience digging it from the ground. The root, prized for its nutritional qualities, features in dishes such as ginseng chicken soup, a small whole chicken stuffed with ginseng and glutinous rice. Ginseng tea is a national drink. The Bonghwa Pine Mushroom Festival in late Setpember includes mushroom digging, cooking and tasting, while the Traditional Liquor and Rice Cake Festival in late March/early April demonstrates the art of tea drinking and Korea’s traditional beverages and rice cakes. We sampled some of these alcoholic beverages including a particularly potent wine made from sweet potato at the Won Poong restaurant in Gyeongju, Korea’s ancient capital, 370 km south-east of Seoul. Our meal there finished with shikhye, a fermented rice punch sweetened with honey.

Gyeongju is renowned for its alcoholic beverages which is perhaps why it also has a street called Parujeong Haejangguk (Soup To Relieve Hangover Street). Seventeen restaurants in the street serve haejangguk, a soup that is said to relieve hangovers. The Won Poong restaurant is a short distance from Tumuli Park, where 20 royal tombs are located, some of them excavated to reveal fabulous treasures. Outside the park, we saw a business making small, round “bread” filled with red bean paste. At the Hyundai Hotel overlooking Gyeongju’s Bomun Lake, we snacked on green and white crescent-shaped dumplings made from rice-flour dough stuffed with chestnuts and mung beans. Traditionally, these songpyeon are steamed on layers of pine needles to prevent them sticking to each other. Popular during Chuseok, the autumn thanksgiving festival, their green and white colours are a typical expression of yin and yang.

Buddhism, introduced from China in 372 BC, has had a considerable influence on Korean food and it is fascinating to experience this by staying at a Buddhist temple. At the beautiful Naksansa Temple, I discovered that I need to eat not for physical satisfaction, but only to support my body for “disciplining”. Ouch. I watched as Bup Gwang, the Buddhist monk who had been assigned to take care of our small tour group, washed her bowl after her meal then drank the water she had rinsed it with. We had already been told that wastage is frowned upon, and with that in mind, I was careful to take only what I thought I could eat. Yet I discovered to my peril that the four meagre “beans” I had put on my plate were actually green peppers that were so hot they brought tears to my eyes. Someone was trying to tell me something.

Because Buddhism forbids the killing of animals, temple food is strictly vegetarian. A typical meal consists of soup, rice and namul, roots and grasses that are prepared with soy sauce, garlic, sesame seeds and seasonings. No salted or fermented fish is used in the kimchi since animal foods are believed to interrupt the thinking process by making one angry. Korea’s tea-drinking tradition was developed by Buddhist monks and it was a privilege to experience this gentle pastime at the Naksansa Temple, where Bup Gwang was much more animated than she had been during the rest of our stay. “Our friendship is sealed, love is deep, we are taking enlightenment, everyone is at the same level,” she said, sipping on the brew. And that’s about the best travel experience one could wish for.

FACT FILE

Christine Salins travelled with Asiana Airlines and Classic Oriental Tours, which offers various packages including the temple-stay and Mt Geumgang in North Korea.
Asiana Airlines: 13 30 01
Classic Oriental Tours: 1300 302 118

© Christine Salins

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