Raw Trout: A Rare Eat

There's a certain silence that comes with exhaustion. In my day-to-day life, I can never quiet my mind enough to meditate unless its after a intense and focused yoga class. Well, it was a different kind of exhaustion at the end of our very long and active second day on the 1st Korean Traditional Food Tour for Foreign Foodies that had me meditating over our last meal of the day.

Our day had started early. Before noon we had already participated in kettle-cooked tofu making, perilla seed harvesting, chicken slaughtering and butchering, an expansive lunch, and had begun our transit to the market. After the joy and excitement of the market, more long (nauseating) transit, makkeoli-making, banchan-making, even more long (and still nauseating) transit, I felt our tour van finally pull into a parking lot. I looked out the windows: pitch black. We got out of the van: still nearly pitch black. And quiet! Haunted by the faint rush of river water nearby and the dark night sky, it felt almost eerily desolate. I had no idea where we were, but it truly felt like the middle of nowhere to me. An occasional rustle of invisible autumn leaves, cold outdoor toilets, not a single other patron except for our group... we lumbered into a cold, long room whose sleepy under-floor heating system was slowly, slowly waking from its slumber.

I sat the end of our long, low table, still very much in my quiet, meditative state as my body worked overtime to digest the feast we had had at lunch. A long day of action and excitement will do this to you. A long day of travel will do this to you. A long day of intelligent and enthused discussion in great company will do this to you. But it was in this very quiet state that I saw the brilliant food brought to our table with utter clarity.

Most restaurants in Korea specialize in just one thing. This restaurant did raw trout. As the plates arrived, the warm coral orange flesh glimmered with silver remnants of skin. Flanked by raw garlic, hot pepper and a plate full of raw cut vegetables for making "ssam" wraps, I unexpectedly found my appetite again. Sure, we eat with our eyes first and these platters we gorgeous, but this was actually the food my body had been craving. Totally whole, fresh food.

Wasabi and other assertive ingredients compliment slices of raw trout


Its a shame that there's a major grocery chain that shares the same name because real whole foods are far more significant that that and deserve more understanding and appreciation in the mainstream public. Some people extol vegetarianism as a virtual solution to so many important issues today. Some firmly believe that organics are the way to planetary and bodily health. I don't discount either of those but I do believe that switching to whole foods is the single, most powerful dietary choice any person eating a conventional, SAD (Standard American Diet) or otherwise highly-processed diet can make. Whole, unprocessed food makes the body think, makes it work the way it was designed to. Contrasted with processed foods that consist mainly of just corn, wheat, soy and a complementary mix of synthetic preservatives and processing agents, whole food forces seasonal eating, varied eating, enzymatic and nutritionally rich eating that wakens the taste buds, the spirit, and the body. Its easy and it feels good great.
This revival is what happened to me that night and it is one of the most exciting things about Korean traditional food. It may be safe to say that nearly all traditional foods around the world are, by default, usually whole or only marginally processed. And in Korean many of them are often naturally preserved or even raw, which offer additional benefits. The particularly impressive thing about Korean traditional, whole foods, however, is that even though Korea is a rather developed country, they are still TOTALLY a part of every day life. Korean traditional foods are are still what is served at the majority of restaurants in any city, at family dinners at home, even in the lunch trays at school. To be clear, processed junk food has made its place in the contemporary Korean lifestyle as well, but in 12 trips abroad, of all the developed countries I have visited, Korea has certainly made the biggest impression when it comes to the perseverance of whole, traditional cuisine in the face of globalization, marketing, monocrop subsidies and artificial food technology.

Lettuce, carrot, cucumber, cabbage and bean powder await a spot in my trout lettuce wrap.

This brings me back to our meal. And the restaurant. Our dinner was like a mini-retreat for my entire self. Subdued and simple, but delicious and unexpectedly/exactly what I needed. And possibly just what the rest of the team and our crew needed as well. Our meal together in the deep, dark countryside fostered candid discussions, quiet reflection and authentic exchanges with every new plate that graced our table. In addition to the glimmering raw trout, our table also experienced the house's selection of side dishes, their hearty trout-head jjigae, juicy and crisp cut Asian pears, and gorgeous glowing trout roe. Wrapped with rice, wasabi and soy sauce in a fresh lettuce leaf, the little tender, translucent beads burst silky omega-rich fish oil between my teeth in one nourishing, flavorful mouthful. It gave me energy for a night that was not yet finished and it carried me contently past midnight at our pension as we prepared for the events to come.

Who ate all the fish head and all the robust broth from our jjigae stew? ;-)

Trout, roe, kimchi, pepper and a one messy mixing dish make for a bright-colored array.

Our rare adventure into the depths of Jeolla province resulted in a rare treat that turned out to be exactly, precisely what my weary self needed. I am grateful every little treasure Korea shares with me.

~Tanya

The Happy Bears Go to Market!

The simple things. Good ingredients, good people. These are the things that make a difference.
On our Hansik Tour we were wined and dined, sure. But it was the simple things that made the tour special.

In the middle of our second day, after an early morning start that included making tofu from scratch, harvesting perilla seeds, killing and preparing a chicken, eating yet another delicious and traditional Korean meal, we were off to the market. I’ve never met a food market I didn’t love. But this one would be different.

In my hometown of Yeongcheon, we host one of the three biggest markets in our province. My comparatively small town of 100,000 people has a huge, sprawling 5-day market full of fresh and preserved, local and imported, animal and vegetable, whole and processed Korean foods. It is totally awesome. Except for one thing… I don’t know what most of it is.

I’ve been nick-named The Foodinary back home. The “food-dictionary”. It’s a mark of pride– I know my global ingredients quite well. I was already rather familiar with the food, having worked in a Korean restaurant and for a Korean family for 3 years. I’ve spent plenty of time and money in our Asian markets back home. I’ve brought home random produce to research and experiment with. But here… well… there’s just so much!

So on this second day of our Korean Traditional Food Tour for Foreign Foodies, sponsored by Hansik.org, I had a special treat. A translator. Our hardworking and committed translator who understood our intense interest in passion for food and who worked tirelessly to keep up with our questions and thoughts and the promptings of the production crew. Special thanks to Jhi-yeon, whose unique personality made a big difference for me on the trip. It was between her efforts, and those of fellow Team Happy Bear member Mike, who is inspiringly fluent in Korean, that I was in true foodie heaven. All good meals start with good ingredients. And finally, finally, I was able to ask questions!
What is this? What is this for? How do you cook it? Can I taste it? I’m not sure how much time we spent at that market wandering between the different stalls, sampling things, and buying ingredients for the Korean breakfast we planned for the next day, but it could have been all day and I don’t think I would have grown tired of it. I was nearly manic with excitement. If that video footage is ever broadcast, you will see five foreigners in white Hansik sweatshirts and one of them will have wide, excited blue eyes and will probably be babbling non-stop about wanting to try everything! That will be me.

Picture stall after stall of different seafood, different fruit, different greens, different sauces, meat cuts, bones, beans, grains. Intersperse with street food carts and vendors selling prepared Korean side dishes called “banchan” and you’ve got some of the picture. Outside the market, the culinary wonder continued with seed roasters & pressers, a stall selling new and traditional Korean jellies, and one selling an innovative hand-made tofu with four layers that each seemed to have some vegetable, herb, or spice giving it color. I nearly had to be pulled away from the wonder if it all. It was, by far, the highlight of the trip for me.
Its a pretty simple thing: A visit to the market alongside two people who patiently helped to answer all my excited questions. Some people like shoes. Some like sports. Some like electronics. I like produce.

~ Tanya

 Look at it all!

 Finally: "Jhi-yeon, what is this??"

 Ooh, hey, can I try this?!

 Hey guys, check this out!



 One of a dizzying array of fish selections.

 From the corner, you can see some of the vast variety.

 Anina gets a sample from a banchan (side dish) vendor.

 Hey guys, I found the lotus!

 Mike bought a DELICOUS box of figs for the crew and team! Wow!

 Hey, see that girl with the gaping mouth who can't look away from the produce for a minute?

Mike serves as very valuable translator and student while this vendor tell us what to look for when shopping for lotus! The joys of market shopping!

Carrots in Jeongeup: A Taste of Korean Terroir

Terroir... the unique characteristics that the environment gives to the food it produces. This term is most commonly used when discussing wines and how the region that the grapes are grown in affects the final flavor of the wine. But in this case, I'm talking about carrots.

After 3/5 of Team Happy Bear and our TV crew left the bibimbap restaurant in Jeonju, we headed off for an organic farm in Jeongeup. Immediately upon arrival at White Crane Farm, we changed into our working gear. Our first stop was the cabbage patch but we were given the chance to say hello to the farm's docile deers which are raised for the medicinal use of their antlers which regrow anually. Up past this deer pen, overlooking the land, we stood next to several humble cabbage rows and got to know the man who would be our host farmer for the next few hours. We discussed his motives for starting organic farming and the work and rewards that it entails. This farmer and his wife are particularly dedicated to the health and wellbeing of their family which was illustrated not only through their farming philosophies, but also through quality food coming out of their restaurant in town. But before we could make our way to town for that incredible dinner, we had to garner some ingredients to make our own kimchi first. And so we wandered to another beautiful spot on the farm, a field of soil ready to be planted with garlic bulbs and two more modest rows of carrots.

Organic carrots are something I get particularly excited about. All root vegetables live in soil and, thus, they become sponges for the toxins within it. But because organic soil must be richer and healthier in order to help the produce protect itself against disease and infestations, the flavor often reflects the complexity of the soil. Thus carrots that come out of organic soil are a real treat. Unlike conventional supermarket carrots whose bright orange color betrays its vapid flavor, organic carrots have a flavor as bright and joyful as their appearance. Organic carrots, especially organic carrots just-pulled from the ground are ultra crunchy, juicy, and will have a unique combination of fresh, distinctly sweet and pleasantly bitter tastes. The carrots of this White Crane Farm, tasted of the land it was grown from. Much of the soil I observe in Korea is fairly rocky and red and void of massive amounts of organic humus. A friend once told me rocks were multiminerals for the soil. These carrots were subtly sweet and carried the slight mineral qualities of Korea's rocky soil.

I savored that communal experience-- our finally-intact team, our Hansik production crew, and our farmer host all crunching our dirty carrots in the field together. Only half-way through our first day I couldn't yet have known that it would be simple moments like those that would form some of my favorite memories from my food tour experience.

Amid the spectacular scenery, the team tries to absorb farmer Lee's organic farming experience.

 Walking out with our kimchi-ready heads of cabbage.

 Planting garlic bulbs for next year.

A real taste of Korea.

Thank you Lee Hee-Cheon of White Crane Farm!

~Tanya



Jeonju's Most Famous Bimbimbap Restaurant: A Real Human Touch from the Daughter of it's Inventor

Before arriving in Korea, I knew that my orientation would be in Jeonju and one of the first things you'll find when learning about Jeonju is that it is known for the beloved Korean dish called bibimbap. At its simplest, "bibim" means mixed in Korean and "bap" means rice and without further elaboration, that is exactly what the dish is. Or it is, at least, what the dish once was.

In the town of Jeonju, however, bibimbap became something royal. At the Korea House restaurant in Jeonju during the first meal of our Hansik Korean Traditional Food Tour for Foreign Foodies, we met the daughter and grand-daughter of the woman who took a practical rice dish that incorporated whatever available or leftover ingredients or side dishes and made it into a timeless and beloved piece of art. As the foremost heir of this woman's legacy, her now senior daughter pridefully took me and my fellow team members through the thoughtful steps of ingredient selection, preparation and assembly. After making our way through the modern front restaurant, through the courtyard with its peaceful garden and small fish ponds, and a more ceremonial dining room, we gazed upon a vast rainbow of traditional bibimbap ingredients. Our assembly began with a gentle hand washing. So much of Korean traditional foods are hands-on dishes and bibimbap is no exception whether massaging of seasonings and ingredients or carefully laying ingredients over the top of the rice.

After first washing our hands, we were pointed to the key flavor foundations of the dish. This restaurant makes its own aged soy sauce. After being allowed a small pinky-dipped taste of the syrupy, dark liquid, all our faces changed in wonder. None of us had ever tasted a soy sauce so fine, so flavorful and full of rich umami flavor. Cheap commercial soy sauce is more like salty water than a flavor contributor. I recall foreign friends in college really craving quality soy sauce in the peak of their homesickness. But this artisinal soy sauce, along with house-made beef broth, minced garlic and fine sesame oil were key in seasoning each of the whole ingredients. I say "whole" because it is important. Whole, unprocessed ingredients are what I consider the heart of healthy eating. Chosing whole, unprocessed foods is, in my opinion, the single, most important act anyone seeking a healthy lifestyle could do. This one act automatically and positively influences a whole host of other healthy choices. But perhaps more encouraging is that bibimbap also proves that whole, quality, slow food is often supremely delicious.

With pride, my fellow members and I got to work each crafting our own bowl of beautiful, edible art. Depending on our personal preferences, dietary needs, and creative impulses we added any of the prepared ingredients to our bowls of deliberately firm-cooked rice: spinach, bean sprouts, carrot, raw beef, fern bracken, edible chrysanthemum leaves, julienned egg white and yolk, pine nuts, sesame seeds, gingko nuts, vibrant yellow mung bean jelly, shredded dried laver, bellflower root, radish, shiitake mushroom, hot pepper paste and toasted sesame oil.

I'm not sure that any dish in Korea blends tradition and contemporary as well as bibimbap. Flanked by a delicious array of house-prepared sides, we admired this dish that had first been introduced more than 200 years ago but which now satisfies fans of Korean food all over the world. But despite its historic roots and modern fame, the dish before us was also uniquely ours. Thoroughly combined into one dynamic dish, mine bowl sung the fresh flavor of extra chrysanthemum leaves. Team-member Mike's took a vegetarian route and was fragrant with rich sesame while Greg's manifested as a hearty bowl of extra spice and beef. By its very nature, the royal Jeonju version of this dish requires human touch and by that human touch it is subject to the current whim of its maker and to the availability of fresh, quality seasonal ingredients.
I feel very blessed to have had this experience at Korea House as part of our Hansik Tour. Bibimbap was my first Korean food crush and because it doesn't have a precise recipe, it frees me to customize it to my mood and the seasons and, thus, to never tire of it. If you haven't yet tried Korean food, bibimbap might just be your "gateway drug." Once you get a sense of Korean's simple approach to big, bold and sexy flavors, you might just join the world of fans in our love for this dish that never gets old.

Our teacher and daughter of the royal version creator shows us ingredient preparation.

Slow food is community building-- it is real experiences and memory-making. :)

Assembly begins while our production crew looks on.

Korea House provided us with a tasty display of the hot-pot version (which we also devoured!)

Three of our Happy Bear team members with daughter and grand-daughter of the creator.

Lovely restaurant, thank you for your hospitality!!

-Tanya

Korea House offers two choices of bimbimpap and many delicious sides with it. Please check the link in the article for directions and a map.

Meet Tanya

Greetings!

If it couldn't already be guessed, it must be said: I'm a lover of food. In truth, I am interested in a massive array of things but, above all, I consider myself a food-obsessed person. I want to know all about all aspects of food. I want to know what kind of seeds were used and who saved them? I want to know where those seeds were sown and by whom? I want to know about the cultivation and the harvesting. I want to hear the stories of the farmers-- the way they were treated, their rights and the support they have (or don't have) via our national and global food policies. I want to know how far this food traveled to get to our kitchens. Exactly how a dish is prepared and plated and by whom it was created. I want to admire how my food looks on the plate, breath deeply its aroma, and pick apart its flavors. I want to value how it makes me feel, what it does for my body, my mind and my spirit. I want to value what it means to my family, my friends, my culture and to the history of man. I want to embrace the art, entertainment and sheer joy of food.

Well, I don't just want to do all of these things, I do them. My contributions to this blog are one manifestation of this love. The opportunity to take part in this Hansik food tour incorporates so many of the things I care deeply about and despite our non-stop schedule and the overtime work my gut had to do to process it all, I have been truly blessed.

You might be curious to know more and I'd be happy to tell you. But we've got a lot to cover and if I can tell you just one thing about me, it is that I'm a lover of food. If we were going for labels, I might eschew the term "foodie" for one a little more holisitic: ethicurean-- someone who seeks 'SOLE' food that is  Sustainable, Organic, Local, and Ethical. But as with everything, I also believe in a balance. I believe in being kind to yourself, letting go of dogmas and egos and just enjoying yourself. If a strangers offered me half a fast-food burger that I would never have selected in a moment alone, I would rather choose to create that moment of sharing and gratitude so often found in food culture than to let my food ideology deprive me of it. This food tour, however, combined the best of both worlds. I hope you enjoy reading our stories as much as I've enjoyed the journey. And even more, I hope it encourages you to create your own food journey and to invite your own array of impassioned friends or strangers to share it with you.

Much love,
Tanya