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