Strange looking things that taste good

Noryangjin fish market. Could be a tourist trap or a foodie's delight. Unfortunately, the outcome depends on your bargaining skills, which are partially dependent on your language skills. Korean of course would be preferable, but it just so happens the aunties manning the more tourist-friendly part of the market are fluent in Mandarin Chinese, so that could be another avenue to avoid getting ripped off. I was lucky, my friend's mum guided us through the whole experience. Normally I love a challenge and I enjoy working hard for my food, but for once it was great, sitting back, getting ready to eat a plethora of delicious critters, albeit a bit unchallenging. I guess sometimes food adventures should require little or no effort.

First up. Abalone sashimi. Actually, I'm not a fan of abalone when it's cooked, in general. I am however, a big fan when it's really, really fresh, and really, really uncooked – i.e. in sashimi form. Sweet with the perfect balance of chew and bite, when dipped in a garlic-chilli sauce, is indulgence at its best.

Alongside the abalone came sashimi'ed sea squirt. Now, at first glance, you might be wondering whether this is an internal organ of an mythical beast or a gene-splicing experiment gone slightly amiss. I'd never tried it before, and all I knew was that Koreans like to add it to a variety of spicy dishes to add sweetness. At first, it was a bit too soft and even slightly slimey, but then the sweetness hit my tastebuds. It wasn't overpowering, and definitely had that very slightly briney edge, which made it a very satisfying kind of sweetness. 

Even better, the sweet aftertaste lingers for a while on the palate, and leaves a slightly 'iron'-esque feeling in your mouth (you know, after you eat too much spinach, but this is lighter and more pleasant). Highly recommended if you're looking to add a 'try a strange looking but delicious new type of seafood' to your new year's resolutions next year.

Then, the touristy thing. Sannakji, or live octopus, brutally dismembered in front of your eyes. (Yes, it was pretty uncensored, I could almost hear the octopus screaming, if these arthropods can scream that is.) Its chopped up corpse is mixed with a bit of sesame oil, then you pick up the still-wriggling tentacles, and place into your mouth. Remember to chew, I was advised. I did chew really really hard, but my mistake was unfortunately trying to put too much in my mouth. One tentacle managed to grip the outside of my lip, and wouldn't let go. For a dead octopus, it put up a pretty good fight. Taste wise, it was nice, slightly sweet and not overly chewy, but it wasn't a patch on the afore-eaten abalone and sea squirt.

Noryangjin Fisheries Wholesale Market (노량진수산물도매시장)

674 Nodeul-ro, Dongjak-gu, 서울특별시 South Korea

Open 24 hours – but best to go for an early lunch

Subtlety can be surprisingly addictive

I love my Jajangmyeon. These Chinese-Korean black bean noodles were introduced to me by one of my Korean friends when I first started to get immersed into this cuisine around seven years ago. They don't look pretty, and the description of noodles covered in black bean sauce doesn't really whet you appetite at first glance. But don't let that fool you, these noodles will grow on you, quickly, and soon you might even start to eat the instant noodle version (Chapaghetti) in places devoid of this comforting treat.

So, naturally, I had a make a pilgrimage to one of Seoul's most traditional Jajangmyeon eateries; Sinseonggak. When you see the humble, understated nature of this place, you immediately know two things: (1) they probably do one or two things much better than anyone else (2) they won't take shortcuts to produce a stunning plate of food. 

For those of you who may have eaten Jajangmyeon abroad, you might be used to a slightly sweet sauce. That's what I have been accustomed to, at least. So when I took my first bite of these noodles, I must admit, I found the sauce slightly bland. But then the flavours started to evolve on my palate. I appreciated the subtle saltiness of the black beans, the mild sweetness of the onions, the touch of richness from the pork – within a few bites I had realised that I had found a sauce which was unbelievably well balanced.

The hand-pulled noodles, made fresh everyday on the premises, were equally sublime. Slightly chewy, slippery and not too heavy, they act as the perfect carrier for the subtle-yet-addictive black sauce. The fried mandu (dumplings) were tasty but were no where near as stellar as the noodles. (On a future visit, I will definitely get the Tang Yu suk, or Chinese-Korean sweet and sour pork).

All in all, this place is really worth making a mini pilgrimage for. For a large bowl of Jajangmyeon, it'll make a very small dent in your wallet, at only 5000 Won. Don't expect fantastic ambiance, but expect homely hospitality and subtle-yet-addictive bowls of noodle goodness.

Sinseonggak 신성각

2-463 Singongdeok-dong, Mapo-gu, Seoul, South Korea (quite hard to find, address in Korean below):

서울시 마포구 신공덕동 2-463

Phone: 02-716-1210

Open Mon – Sat 11:30 – 19:30; Closed Sundays

Pork belly: Temporary, materialistic happiness

Two of the world's best inventions come together when one gets to lay their tongue on samgyeopsal, or barbequed pork belly, a Korean classic. For those of you familiar with Korean cuisine, the pork is normally sliced thinly and barbequed quickly, resulting in crispy pork belly. But I love the belly when it's crisp on the outside and juicy in the middle. 

Fortunately, samgyeopsal at 길목 (Gilmok) resolves this dilemma. By cutting the pork belly into chunky pieces only after a large slab has been cooking away for a bit on the barbeque, this allows the centre of each porky piece to stay most and juicy, whilst the outside can develop that smokey, charred and crispy exterior which most humans cannot resist.

It is great dipped in a bit of salt and eaten on its own, or placed in a piece of lettuce together with rice and doenjang (fermented Korean soy bean paste) and wolfed down. Both are excitingly indulgent in their own ways.

This restaurant also does a pretty good pork shoulder, though, for me, it's all about the belly. Wash down with soju and you'll be extremely happy, at least in that temporary, materialistic kind of way.

길목 (Gilmok)

10, Yeongdong-daero 129-gil, Gangnam-gu, Seoul

http://www.diningcode.com/profile.php?rid=xwpkfkrWvUeC&rank=9 

For once, meat wasn't the stand-out act

As you might have noticed from reading just a few of my posts, I'm a meat and seafood man. On rare occasions, I get distracted by unique ingredients such as Ube and Lucuma, but these occurrences are few and far between.

Jeonju, the foodie capital of Korea, is home to one of those rare occasions. The now world-renowned bibimbap (mixed rice with vegetables and chilli paste), originated from this city, and as ever, I had to go find the best, most original one. I normally prefer hole-in-the-wall type of restaurants, but Gajok Hwegwan was rated pretty highly by a number of bloggers, so I settled for this.

Not long after ordering the yukhwe (raw beef-topped) bibimbap set (15,000 won), a rather ridiculous amount of food arrived within my field of vision. Now straight to business - a hot, large metal bowl, containing rice, raw beef and egg yolk, and a plethora of fresh vegetables and the oh-so-important chilli paste (gochujang) – this is what I came to Jeonju for. After mixing up all the ingredients with my usual level of OCD thoroughness, I took my first bite. Just like my Jajangmyeon experience at Sinseonggak, it reminded me that often these dishes are slightly twisted over in the West to suit our often sugar-seeking palates. Too often over in Europe and the US, the gochujang used for bibimbap is a bit sweet, but in this undoubtedly more authentic version, it is much less sweet, and packs more of a punch. This allowed the sweetness of some of the other vegetables to come through more markedly, and left my palate in feeling satisfied in a very balanced kind of way. The beef, for once, didn't live long in my memory – in fact,  the more I ate, the more I appreciated the subtle interplay between the veggies, the rice and the chilli paste. Could I actually enjoy a vegetarian bibimbap?

The side dishes were overabundant but that is not a bad thing – particularly when one of them was a delightfully light egg souffle. At this point, as I was slightly sleep deprived after an overnight flight from Singapore, so I'm a little ashamed that I can't remember more about the side dishes, but I do remember the yellow mung bean jelly (right middle of the pic), the caramel-esque potato (bottom left) being not only tasty but providing the perfect counterbalance to the capsaicin-laced bibimbap.

Gajok Hwegwan 가족 회관
South Korea, Jeollabuk-do, Jeonju-si, Wansan-gu, Jungangdong 3(sam)-ga, 80
Open Daily 11:30 – 21:00

Ice Cold Bovine Refreshment

So you've probably established that the Koreans do meat pretty well. Especially beef. And they also do pretty good noodles too. So beef + noodles equalling something good might seem like a logically excellent combination. But did adding an ice cold bovine broth to the mix come to your mind? I would have guessed not.

Mulnaengmyeon, an originally North Korean dish from Pyeongyang, is exactly the refreshing, slurp-worthy bowl of beef-based deliciousness that you never knew you needed in your life. Actually, you probably need it even more if you're reading this in the midst of summer or some sweaty tropical urbanopolis in SE Asia. If you like a pure, unadulterated beef broth, with chewy buckwheat noodles, Asian pear, radish and cucumber, and of course cooked beef slices then mulnaengmyeon is for you.

At first, the cold beefyness is a little strong, but after a while, you learn how to appreciate the subtle interplays between the ingredients; the sweetness of the pear, the bitterness of the radish, and for some heat, add a little mustard.

If it's your first time trying this dish in Seoul, try it at Woo Lae Oak, a name synonymous with this bowl of noodles whose status ought to be elevated in the noodle world.

Woolaeoak
62-29 Changgyeonggung-ro, Jung-gu, 서울특별시 South Korea
Tues – Sun: 11.30am ; Closed Mondays
http://english.visitkorea.or.kr/enu/ATR/SI_EN_3_1_1_1.jsp?cid=349050 

Intimidatingly Tasty

A large, half empty rice bag comes out of the kitchen. Rather than the ubiquitous staple eaten throughout Asia, something rather different is contained within. The side of the bag starts moving. The anticipation rises.

The bag is opened. A huge, blue black arthropod emerges. Bits of coconut follow. It looks at you, hissing, brandishing its enormous coconut-crushing claws. This is Kepiting Kelapa, or the coconut crab. It is an intimidating beast, but it looked intimidatingly tasty. City Extra, in the western part of Manado in Northern Sulawesi, is famous for how they cook this exquisite specimen of seafood.

Firstly, the sauce. Lemongrass, chilli, turmeric, galangal were all in abundance, alongside coconut milk. But the balance was close to perfect – not too spicy, and the flavours of the aromatics complemented the sweetness of the crab, rather than overpowering it.

The meat itself, like any crab, varies in sweetness and texture depending on what parts you choose to devour. The claw was supremely sweet and extremely meaty (understandable for a beast that needs to crush coconuts), the part leading up to the claw was lobster-esque, and the body was tender. But undoubtedly the best part was its eggs (found in the abdomen) which was dispersed amongst the sauce.

These eggs added a subtle sweetness and a slight umami hit to lift the sauce to an elevated level of flavour, and added a dimension of creaminess to the sauce. More tasty than intimidating.
Pair this with white rice, and kangkung cooked with papaya flower, and you have a meal fit for four kings and/or queens. At 1.2MM IDR, it is extremely pricey by local standards, but considering that this is one of those rarely eaten treats, it is well worth it. 

My only complaint would be that this meal took nearly one hour to prepare. Maybe it was because we arrived around 11am before most staff were ready, or maybe it was due to an epic struggle in the kitchen between chef and the eight-legged beast... But if you also have to endure a similarly lengthy wait, the view from the restaurant could be worse.

City Extra

Jl. Raya Tanawangko Kalasey, Manado, Sulawesi Utara 95116, Indonesia

Opening hours: Daily 10am – 10pm

+62 812-4226-5008

https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g297721-d1034284-Reviews-City_Extra-Manado_North_Sulawesi_Sulawesi.html  

Prawn foie gras

Overall, the Sicilian red prawn (gamberi rossi) is still my favourite prawn of all time. But the river prawn, especially the big ones found in Thailand and Myanmar, are not too far off, especially when it comes to what's inside the head. The Sicilian red prawn's head is sweeter and has a more intense prawn flavour, whilst the river prawn's head fat is creamier and more comforting, almost like crustacean foie gras.

 In Bangkok you can find giant river prawns at various locations throughout the city, but at P'Aor, you can get them with a prawn-fat enriched tom yum noodle soup. Flavourful and aromatic, sweet and sour, the soup of this bowl of noodles is incredibly addictive. I did expect it to be a tad more spicy, though that would be my only criticism.

Also highly recommended is the river prawn with prawn fat-infused egg on rice. A really ingenious creation – the oily goodness inside the head is used to scramble eggs which is then dumped in a big river prawn and steamed rice. In fact, if the river prawn wasn't there, I would be perfectly happy eating eggy, prawny rice. Damn good.

But then again, all is so much better with the giant river prawn, especially when you scoop out the foie gras-esque head fat. Here is a blurry picture of this amazing substance:

P'Aor's drinks are not too bad either; I washed down this feast with some refreshing roselle flower juice.

Price: 100 – 150 baht per person (2 people sharing 3 dishes and a drink each)

P'Aor

68/51 Soi Petchaburi 5, Between Soi 5 – 7, Phaya Thai, Ratchathewi, Bangkok

Phone: 026129013

Open Tues – Sun 10am to 10pm. Best to go during lunch before all the river prawns are eaten up

Not only for ramen

In many big cities around the world, when people think of pig trotters and asian food, they think tonkotsu ramen. And for good reason, it is up there with Penang Hokkien Mee as one of my favourite noodle soups.

But let's step away from the world of soup-noodle slurping. There is another way to eat pig's trotters – that is, slowly braised for aeons in soy and spices and served over rice with pickled veggies. Chiang Mai is known for this dish but a very good version is available in Bangkok in the foodie hotspot of Bang Rak, at Khao Kha Mu Trok Sung.

I really, really like how they cook this dish here. The rich, gelatinous trotter balances perfectly with the fleshy leg meat (make sure you order this combination), and all this richness is cut through with pickled vegetables and washed down with some homely radish soup. The sauce is light and not too salty, and complements the pork flavour rather than overpowering it. Dangerously addictive, and dangerously cheap.

Price: See prices in the picture

Khao Kha Mu Trok Sung

106/5 Charoen Wiang Road

Phone: +6622354930

Open: Mon – Sat, 10:30am – 7.30pm

Lazy man's crab

I love sweet, juicy crab meat. The act of smashing through the arthropod's armour and retrieving the meaty flesh within has to be one of the most rewarding gastronomic activities known to man. As much as I love this act, there are some days when I am feeling a bit lazy and wish the crab meat would just come to me.

And at Krua Apsorn, it can come to you. We opted for the crab meat cooked with yellow curry powder, which was pretty sensational. Sweet, delicate, juicy crab meat married beautifully with the subtle spice of the curry-based sauce; an extremely well balanced combination of flavours and textures.

The kingfish and green mango salad is also very good too; meaty-on-the-inside crisp on the outside kingfish, crunchy green mango slithers harmonised by a sweet, spicy and sour fish sauce dressing. My only criticism of this dish is that the kingfish was sliced too thickly, and thus as a result there was insufficient green mango dressing to go with all the meaty flesh.

Dessert at Krua Apsorn is pretty simple, yet simply stellar. Coconut sorbet might not sound like much, but when it is made from the juice and flesh of incredibly refreshing young coconut, it is pretty hard to beat.

Price: Around 300-350 Baht per person incl drinks

Krua Apsorn

Samsen 1 Alley, Wat Sam Phraya, Phra Nakhon, Bangkok 10200

Open: Mon – Sun 9am - 8pm