Friday, November 18, 2011

Saemangeum Sushi: A Different Creature for Each Eater

Our last lunch together was at Saemangeum Sushi Restaurant in Gunsan...and I would say the most ornate of all the meals. It started out downstairs in a fresh, bright/bold blue open room housing tanks of various fish, crabs, and sea squirts. Little red and white plastic flags representing different countries hung from the ceiling. It felt quite surreal, as if we had walked up a staircase that stopped suddenly in the clouds, and here was this room. We turned the corner and found the actual staircase which lead us to the restaurant. A couple banners with the logos and photos of KBS and another tv station decorated the wall, which meant good things.

We sat down on cushions on the floor of one of the few private rooms and marveled at the ocean view and the bright, sunny light coming in from windows. A perfect lunch atmosphere.

We were served first a large square platter of various sushi atop mounds of glass noodles and garnished with bright little yellow flowers with red tips, bunches of parsley and wedges of lemon. The only fish I could identify were sea squirt (which I'd been wanting to try for months!), salmon, and prawn, but there were four other varieties as well.

The sea squirt is that little orange-red, spiky-looking sea-anemone-like creature all over markets. I have seen women slicing them open at markets to reveal an inner orange meat similar to the meat inside a mussel. I was always curious but wasn't sure how to cook them. So at the restaurant they had sliced the 'squirt' open so that its outer skin fell in a blanket underneath the separate-cut pieces of raw flesh. The taste was bitter and I didn't want to take more than one as there were only a few pieces there to go around, so I never ended up finding the appropriate sauce to dip them in, if there was one. I think they could have been good had I matched them with a recommended dip, though. I always want to find a way to make an unappealing taste appealing, because I like the idea that everything can taste good, that there IS a way to make everything taste good. But maybe that is just too lofty a thought.

Next they brought out the platter of fish skin gelatin: grey gelatinous squares of pure fat from the skin of a particular fish. I was intrigued with this idea at first and wanted to try it in its pure form although they recommended it be dipped in sauce. They were right. I tried it again dipped in a soy paste. Better, but still not something I could eat more than two squares of. It literally melted into oil in my mouth and glided down my throat with no effort. I asked the waiter via translation about this dish, and he said 'if you eat this you will never need botox.' Ha.
Fish skin gelatin

Then came the side dishes: kimchi, radish marinated in chili sauce, pickled garlic cloves, cooked zucchini, lightly cooked bean sprouts, and sweetly marinated cold, shredded jellyfish salad ('hepari').
Then the raw oysters in a small black and sea green ceramic bowl nestled in glass noodles on a matching square dish, with a wedge of lemon on the side. Yum!

And finally, a delightful, savory, red-sauced medley of thin tentacle mushrooms, spring onions, garlic, various spices, and the most amazingly tender fish I've ever eaten! As opposed to many other restaurants I've been to in the west, where they skimp on fish, this stew was packed with both short and long fillets of fish. I was already quite full, but I had a difficult time putting my spoon down, as most everyone was finished by this point, and there was still fish left in the pot!

Fantastic Fish Stew!
What I liked most about this restaurant was that we got to try a few different fish both in their raw and cooked forms. It was satisfying to be able to taste them in both styles. Different flavors come out, different nutritional properties are available depending on whether it's cooked or not, just as it is with any food.


The beautiful sushi platter (orange creature above is the sea squirt!)


Flat-fish, simple and delicious in flavor - no need for much flavoring

The lunch spread

Flat-fish cooked in a savory chili-pepper sauce

Oysters! Atop glass noodles that apparently weren't for eating.

Saemangeum Sushi Restaurant
군산시 비응도동 62-12번지
063-464-1000
-Anina

Dotorimuk: An Acorn-based Treat

Acorns were eaten by many indigenous people such as Native American tribes. The Oak trees that grow in America are capable of making what is in the picture here. The acorns are soaked to remove most of their bitterness and then are dried and ground to a powder. The cook who gathered them herself after soaking, drying and grinding added seasoning and water and boiled the mixture until it start to firm up. Then she put it in a mold.

The flavor was more complicated than chestnuts and are easier to grow than grain. Acorns are a sustainable eat which retain healthy medicinal value. Harrong Village Restaurant has an amazing tasting Dotorimuk.



We couldn't get the amazing recipe of Dotorimuk from Harong Village, but here is a recipe adapted slightly from the NYTimes recipe.

FOR THE JELLY
2 cups quartered and shelled acorns
2 tablespoons cornstarch
3/4 teaspoon sea salt
sesame oil
For the dressing
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon rice wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon sesame oil
1 teaspoon kochukaru (Korean red pepper flakes) or other red pepper flakes to taste
1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds
1/2 teaspoon minced garlic
1 scallion, cut into 2-inch lengths and julienned.

For the dressing
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon rice wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon sesame oil
1 teaspoon kochukaru (Korean red pepper flakes) or other red pepper flakes to taste
1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds
1/2 teaspoon minced garlic
1 scallion, cut into 2-inch lengths and julienned.

1. For the jelly: In a blender, combine the acorns with 1 cup water. Process to a rough paste. Transfer to a large bowl, cover with water and stir. Let sit, covered, in a cool place. (The acorn starch will fall to the bottom of the bowl while the water will become stained brown from tannins.) After three hours, drain water from bowl, being careful not to disturb acorn sediment. Cover with more fresh water and stir. Repeat process as often as possible, at least twice a day, until the water runs clear, from three days up to one week.
2. After the last drain, combine acorn meal with 5 cups of water in a large pot. Bring to a rolling boil, then reduce heat to a low boil. Keep stirring to prevent acorn meal from burning. Whisk cornstarch and salt with 3 tablespoons water until smooth. Add to pot. Continue stirring until volume is reduced by half and liquid is thickened, about 30 minutes.
3. Coat four small serving bowls with vegetable oil. Strain acorn mixture through a fine-meshed sieve and divide among the bowls. Allow to rest at room temperature until set, about 2 hours.
4. For the dressing: In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, vinegar, sesame oil, pepper flakes, sesame seeds and garlic. Add scallion, and mix.
5. To serve, invert a bowl of jelly onto a serving plate, and remove bowl. Top with a spoonful of dressing. Repeat with remaining jelly and dressing, and serve.
Yield: 4 servings.

-Greg

Nungil Village: An Unsung Hero to Makeoli Drinkers Everywhere

The Happy Bears went to Nungil Village to make Makeoli. We did it for our health, taste, enjoyment, and self-knowledge. 

Makeoli has the alcohol percentage above a standard lager( 6%) with the sweetness of a soft drink and milky texture with an acidic kick. Some even are carbonated to have the fizzyness of soda. We love its taste.

Makeoli is particularly special to me. It's an example of what can be called healthy alcohol. When traditionally made, its taste is amazing and it contains many beneficial bacteria and yeast. Just like how kimchi, and yogurt have symbiotic healthy lactobacilli bacteria for our gastrointestinal track, so does Makeoli. However,  Makeoli also has the added benefit of yeast.

Most commercial Makeoli is pasteurized and artificially sweetened with Aspartame, which is a known neurotoxin. Fortunately, there are people who are bringing back the old style of making alcohol, such as  commercial brewers or individuals and groups who are doing it themselves for themselves or their families. They are heros to us for doing something that costs a little more but is safe and healthy for us.

Nungil Village is one of those heros.

Nungil Makeoli is not a brewer of commercial makeoli, but a school to teach people how to make nutritious and delicious Makeoli, food, and how to grow food. 

So we went to learn.

We were not disapointed.

The Happy Bear drove to the Nungil Restaurant and entered the school.

Our teacher, had already the materials laid out before we arrived. On stepping into the room, there was a container of yeast in liquid, nuruk(누룩), a cake wheat, barley, and rice, which has wild gathered lactobacilli bacteria and yeast from the air that accumulated on the cake. Both rested on a tablecloth spread across a long folding table.

I'm a homebrewer so while my Korean is spotty I'm familiar with the brewing process and I felt comfortable as our translator translated the teachers words to us.

Our teacher brought out the steamed rice.

Our teacher told us what to do and we listened.

"The rice must be steamed in a steamer and not a rice cooker so it does not lose sugar. It must be slightly hard."

We spread the rice out and allowed it too cool. When the rice was the temperature of our hand, we would add the nuruk.

"If too hot, the bacteria will die," the teacher said.

He then showed us the nuruk which sat in a metal bowl shown in the picture on the right.  Nuruk is made traditionally by wrapping a wet cake of wheat, barley, and rice in a husk and putting it in a barn or someplace else to gather the wild yeasts and bacteria.

We mixed the nuruk into the rice. The nuruk will break the rice into simple sugars for the yeast to eat and produce the alcohol. Without the nuruk, the complex sugars cannot be broken down into simpler sugars for the yeast to eat and make alcohol.




Then the teacher showed us the yeast, which was simply Fleichers Bread yeast prepared in warm water with some sugar. The yeast is not necessary as it is airborn, everywhere on Earth, but it shortens the process of Makeoli making from 1 and half weeks to four days.


A texture of yeast.

We added water over the rice to just over the rice and then sealed the pot with a lid with an air gauge attached. We carried the pot to a stone cellar with thick stone walls which keeps the temperature inside cool and keeps the temperature from fluctuating extremely.

The stabilization is important according to our teacher to keep the Makeoli ph balance between base and acid. If too much of one or the other, then the wonderful flavor will be bad.

After four days water, the yeasts outcompete and kill all the unhealthy bacteria and the healthy bacteria remain.

The value of alcohol as a safe source of water was appreciated by European colonists of America. The Pilgrims refused to drink water for fear of diseases remembered from plagues in the past  and drank beer instead because they knew that it would keep them healthy.

After the four days, water is added at a 3:1, water:rice ratio and the Makeoli is aged for a week so the flavors mingle and the taste improves.


The Happy Bears were lucky to get to drink the Makeoli available. Before drinking it our teacher reminded us to not drink commercial makeoli with Aspartame in it.

The Makeoli he served was special because it was made from the extract of Jerusalem Artichoke leaves (돼지 감자 or pig potato). It has many medicinal effects some of which are pain relief, antioxidization, and stomach soothing.

The taste was amazing so we happily drank two or three glasses before we were went on to our next adventure.

Jerusalem Artichoke Roots



Jerusalem Artichoke Makeoli





-Greg

NungGil Makeoli
JinAhn Nungil MaEul(Village)
JunBok Jinahn-Goon DongHyang-Myun NunGumL-Lee Nungil MaEul




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

Team Happy Bear Cooks: Mike's Garlic Stems

As the point of the whole 1KFTFFF was to help Hansik popularize Korean food, we Happy Bears figured that we ought to supplement our packed eating schedule with a bit of cooking, too. After all, though everyone deserves to be introduced to all the wonders of Korean cuisine, not everybody is fortunate to live close to a Korean restaurant. While we can't deliver to everyone in the world, the least we can do is spread the word.

Andy and Anina have both already posted about their contributions: Gosari (Fern Bracken) and Yeongeun (Lotus Root).



I myself contributed two dishes, both of them quite easy. First off, a very simple salad I learned from my friend Mina, the chef of the weekly "Vegetarian Dinner for the Earth" at my local branch of the Green Consumers Network. Just take a sweet cabbage (단배추, pretty similar to a Napa) and chop it up into chopstick-friendly chunks. Then, make a sauce of perilla oil, perilla seed powder, and salt. Once you've matched the proportions to your preferences, pour the dressing onto the leaves, then mix with your hands, squeezing everything with just enough pressure that the sauce evenly coats and permeates the cabbage, but not so hard that you crush them into a mush. The result: a rich, oily, and yet light salad that fits right in with the sweet, salty, and pungent side dishes around it. Unfortunately, my coworkers were busy cooking and my hands were busy squishing, so I didn't get any pictures of this one.

Second, another one of my favorites: sautéed garlic stems (마늘쫑 볶음). These were complete news to me the first time I tried them, but I immediately fell for their savory simplicity. To get started, chop the stems up into pieces about 1.5 inches long; again, just right to be picked up with chopsticks. Fill a frying pan with just enough water to cover them, then boil for about two or three minutes, just to soften them up. Move them over to a colander, drain out the water, and heat up a bit of sesame oil. One it's warm, drop in the garlic stems, and, if you are a big garlic fan, slice up a few bulbs and drop those in as well. Lightly brown the outsides of the stems, and before they get too droopy, pour in a bit of soy sauce. If you've got a sweet tooth, now's the time to add the sugar. Either way, once the liquid has mostly cooked off, remove the stems from the pan and sprinkle them with sesame seeds - for extra punch, crush them as you sprinkle, as this will release more flavors, in addition to making it easier for your stomach to absorb all the goodness.

That's all! Serve with rice, soup, and other side dishes for a splendid meal.



Garlic stems pre-sauté



The finished product

Also present:



Seasoned bellflower/balloonflower root (도라지 무침)



Don't recall exactly, but this looks to me like 시금치나물 (blanched spinach with garlic and sesame oil)



A bit of fresh fruit. We were lucky to find local figs in the market the previous afternoon.




All the side dishes in one shot! Those are Tanya's tiny little sweet-n-spicyy anchovies in the top-left, a mayo/sunchoke/carrot/cuke salad at top-center, and my cabbage and perilla salad at top-right.



The spread, including Greg's spicy oyster and mushroom soup!
We were truly happy to be able to share our food with one another and with the translator, driver, and TV crew who worked so hard to make our food tour possible. Thanks, Hansik and KBS^^

Mike

Team Happy Bear Makes Old School Tofu

This may not sound very cosmopolitan of me, but all the way into my early-mid twenties, I was pretty scared of tofu. I harbored an apprehension that I still can't elaborate on, one which I can only excuse by incriminating myself further: I was also scared of oranges until I was about eighteen, hash browns and refried beans until twenty, and eggs and tomatoes until twenty-two. If you doubt me, get in touch with my college roommates. I'm sure they'd be happy to confirm.

Living in a foreign land, one learns to get over such childish fears, partially because it'd be a waste of time to be abroad without sampling the local cuisine, and partially because you have to get pretty good at a foreign language before you can really be picky when ordering. Korea is particularly good for expanding culinary horizons, because no matter what you order, you're likely to wind up with a smörgåsbord of vegetable-and-other side dishes you didn't exactly ask for, most of them so unfamiliar that you won't have had the chance to form any prejudices about them. Most days, I thank Korea for having helped me learn to eat outside the box, so to speak.

Back to topic: I eat tofu so frequently now that I can't imagine there was a time when I refused to eat it at all. It's not that I really love the stuff - actually, I have some apprehensions about it, having read that overconsumption can lead to hormone imbalance, that the soybeans are often GMO, and that it's not safe for humans to depend so greatly on a single plant. Nonetheless, it's everywhere and just about unavoidable, and considering that people have been eating it for hundreds if not thousands of years, it's almost certainly safe when eaten in moderation as part of a balanced died. I had it on its own with just a little spicy sauce as a side dish for Makkeoli (rice wine) last night; the previous weekend, I had it sprinkled with sesame seeds and served with roasted laver and stir-fried kimchi as a compliment to some noodles; it's in just about every vegetarian soup that doesn't contain seaweed; and when it comes in my CSA every month, I turn it into croûtons or just lightly sear it at breakfast time.

After all these years of eating tofu without quite knowing what it was , I was happy to get the chance to participate in the process of making it at Joseon Village. After waking up early, having a light breakfast of fruit, and wandering around a bit getting a feel for the place - as I detailed in a different piece, "Applied Food Ethics at Joseon Village," we happened upon a lady sitting in a hot, smoky, not-quite-indoor-not-quite-outdoor kicthen. She was perching over a giant cooking cauldron which had been excellently designed to be fully integrated into the building's heating system so that not a single ounce of wood would be wasted. She was swooshing around a frothy, white liquid, made by grinding soy beans that had been soaked over night and then adding them to water. They need to be boiled to be cooked thoroughly, and need to be stirred lest they burn to the bottom of the pan. Greg offered to jump in and take a turn.


Greg hard at work.

After boiling the beans and stirring them continuously for the better part of an hour, taking breaks whenever our eyes welled up with tears from the smoke, it was time for the next step: separating the ground beans from the liquid that had absorbed much of their taste and nutrients. I took a giant cloth bag perforated with tiny holes and held it open while the woman scooped out the contents of the cauldron. The sediment remained in the bag, while the liquid escaped through the holes and down into our pot. At the end, I lifted up the sediment-filled bag, and we poured the thinner liquid into a giant rubber tub.


We then sat a big wooden press on top of the tub, plopped the bag of sediment on top of it, and squeezed out all the remaining liquid, leaving us with one tub of very dry grit and one bucket of very beany juice.





Another kitchen worker skimmed some of the liquid off of the top, sugared it, and served us all bowls of fresh, warm, sweet soy milk right on the spot.


Our translator, Ziyeon, with the goods.

After we allowed the same stuff in the red bucket to settle for a while, it turned into this:


Sundubu (순두부), a thin kind of tofu often added to soups. More or less like Silken stuff back home, I believe.

Then, to turn it into the stuff we're used to - the the stuff that come in cubes and holds its shape more or less like Jello - we used this little contraption.


Everything is again poured into a bag, which is itself set inside a little wooden box. The box is closed, a weight is set on top, and left for a few hours. All the liquid drains out (it didn't occur to me to ask what they do with this) and the weight and frame mold the tofu into its eventual form.


Fortunately or unfortunately, we didn't have an hour to wait around. We headed right off to visit some perilla plants (separate post here) and some chickens (and here), all of which we ended up eating (parts of).

In case you're wondering what happens to the grit, worry not: on a conscientious farm, none of it goes to waste. There's a soup called 콩비지찌개 (Kongbiji Jjigae / Bean Grit Stew) that combines the grit with fermented soybean paste, chilli peppers, and a few other vegetables. The grit can also be used to make awesome kimchi pancakes, slightly thicker and more filling than ones made with flour. Or, it can be fed to animals or returned to the land as fertilizer.

All beautiful options. Though, of course, you can also just eat it straight:


Tanya enjoys getting fed by I don't know whom!

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

The Happy Bears Vist A Farm and Restaurant that Does it Organic, from Scratch and Delicious

The Happy Bears went to Harong restaurant to try Hanjeongsik, which is a Korean traditional spread of banchana, rice and meat. It was to royal cuisine in the most peasant way making simple food using what is local and prepared on the farm that they own as well.  All of prepared with a high respect for food. It was a perfect example of farm to table. Everything to the rice sugar was made for on the farm or paid for at a premium price. That oil is Rice Bran Oil. It's really expensive and is of fantastic quality.  And all of it was delicious.




The exterior was beautiful and so was the interior but we came for the food.

We had high expectations of this place before arriving. Greg requested to Ziyeon our translator that they give us everything they had and they did till we were bursting from so much of a good thing.


So instead of feeding us one meat for our meal. They fed us two 


But first, we toured the kitchen and saw some of the ingredients they were using. The farmer and cook were preparing our meals in the warm and intimate wood laden restaurant.


The woman came over and hand fed Anina tofu which Anina said, "Tasted fresher and more earthy than any other tofu I've had before."


We all liked it a lot and the other things she showed us. It was a sign of the goodness to come. We just didn't know how good it was going to be.


The Happy Bears climbed a staircase to the second floor and sat on cushions on the floor. A few minutes later, we were served our first course of white tofu sprinkled with black sesame seeds, fresh kimchi, and the  most succulent pork laid out on a platter.
The kimchi and tofu were delicious and home made.


The pork dish is called Bossam. It is not traditional Hanjeongsik, but was presented to us to showcase good Korean organic pork. It was slowed cooked in a simmering pot with flavors of ginger, rice syrup, garlic, and soy bean paste, until the meat absorbs the flavor


It was the best pork belly these writers have tasted. Pork belly cured into bacon in America. It was so tender and so flavorsome we are still talking about it. Read more about in the amazing tastes section above.



Next came the banchan dishes (Korean 'side dishes') nestled on a woven platter.


They consisted of pickled garlic; pickled cabbage; raw white radish and a dark wild mountain green mixed with chili paste and perilla powder; sweetened pickled cucumbers; a dish on its own of kimchi; bracken fern (gosari-namul 고사리나물); and slices of chewy but slightly crunchy lotus root(yeongeun 연근)  marinated in a sweet sauce of homemade brown rice syrup, sesame oil and soy sauce.


From bottom left to right around: pickled cucumber, kimchi, gosari,  yeongeun,  and  pickled cabbage. In the center is pickled garlic. 

Gosari-namul or bracken fern is often passed by and ignored by mountain hikers in the west but it is full of vitamins, antioxidents, and LA and ALA fatty acids. It's a cheap wild food which has become a staple ingredient in bibimbap and was always around in famine times for people when they needed it. 


Andy and Greg tried to recreate the gosari namul here and they  learn a lot by what we missed. 
One might compare lotus root to what we know as water chestnut in Chinese cooking, but it is a bit heavier, chewier and starchier. And when sliced, it has a complex, geometrical design which you can see in the photo below. It's high in iron, vitamin B1 and vitamin C, and fiber.  It can be eaten as a fruit, sliced and stir-fried, or made into a tea for digestive problems. This dish we quickly devoured. 


Lotus Root  banchan which Anina and Greg were inspired to make later. 
The next dish was 'dotorimuk' which is acorn jelly. A brownish, slightly bitter flavored jelly, rich in starch, proteins, and fiber, whose flavors really come out in its sauce - drizzled in toasted sesame oil and topped with sesame seeds, its perimeter consisted of crisp green cabbage mixed with cucumber, onions, and chili paste for a fresh-from-the-ground, invigorating burst of spiciness.


The taste of the jelly was nutty with a tanin coffee body which was complimented well but it's complex sweet, sour, garlic, sesame, and ginger sauce. 


Made from wild harvested acorns the Dotorimuk sits atop a bowl of raw sliced vegetables. 


Then came individually-served black ceramic bowls containing crab legs in-shell with slices of spring onion, sesame seeds, and a thin shallow layer of fishy broth. This is called 간장 개장.


Liked by some foreigners, it's texture is a challenge for others. The results from the group were mixed. Although all liked the soft, only Greg liked the texture. If you can get past the texture of the crunchy shell the insides are succulent and delicious. 

The restaurant owners were giving us everything they had. The happy bears were bursting.  We tried our best to eat it all. Greg opted out of eating rice so I could make room for more food. Mike ate meat for the first time in 2 years to help Greg. Andy's face was red from meat consumption and Anina and Tanya did their best

Next, came a patty of tender ground beef mixed with onions and garlic and thinly drizzled with two different sauces, one sweet and dark, the other yellow and more tart, called tteokgalbi (떡갈비). The tteokgalbi aren't just beef patties. They are high quality ground meat from beef ribs. The meat is marinated for a day  in Korean flavors of ginger, garlic, rice sugar, and soy sauce, and vinegar.

The taste of tteokgalbi is like a marinated hamburger patty which is pan roasted so it retains its fat. It was delicious. 


Finally came a dish of the classic chewy, warm, slightly toasted white rice cakes with a side bowl of rice syrup to dip them in.garaetteok 가래떡; also called huin tteok, 흰떡, which means white tteok.


We all wanted to eat them all but we were too stuffed to eat all of them. But we had a job to try them, so we did. 


They were simple and delicious. Simply a plain rice cake. For those who have never had a Korean rice cake, we'll describe it. The texture is chewy. Imagine eating an inch wide chewy pasta noodle with the pleasing taste of white rice with a rice sugar on it. It was perfect simple sweet finish to the the complex flavors of food we had been eating.


And to end this perfect meal from farm to table was we a cool, light reddish colored digestive tea called Omija 오미자. It's made from the berries of schizandra chinesis. It's also known as the 'five-flavored fruit' for it encompasses the flavors of sweet, sour, salty, pungent, and bitter. The berries from schizandra chinensis have medicinal properties that are adaptogenic which means that your body can use it strenghten any system of the body, from the immune system, nervous system, lymphatic system, cardiovascular system, gastrointestinal system, to the endocrine system. It increases our bodies' ability to fight stress. In other words, it makes us stronger. It gave us a pleasing finish to our happy meal. 


Upon leaving, we walked out through a different part of the restaurant which housed private booths of hand-cut looking wooden tables, delicately hung string lights, and a piano. Such a beautiful place.

White Crane Farm Restaurant
백학농원 호롱마을
이 희 천 010-5506-9750
전북정읍시 수성동 1030-8번지
063-531-7741

-Greg and Anina