Currently, -8 degrees Celsius. Tomorrow it will be a low of -14 degrees Celsius.

I only know what’s cold in Celsius, what’s nice and warm in Farenheit.

Merry Christmas, send me mittens, k thanks.

So tonight I found myself at a gathering at a wine bar in the hills of North Seoul (kind of like the Korean Bel Air), owned by the Simon or Garfunkel of the Korean Simon & Garfunkel. They were called Sa-wol & Oh-wol (or April and May) and they even played a set. They were pretty good.

I kind of like old Korean music, though I only really hear it in a taxi. Most of those ajusshis listen to this genre, called trot.

I don’t mind it at all. Maybe I just haven’t been culturally wired to think that it is old-fashioned and silly, like I guess country music is in the US. Though between you and me (you being the fair amount of people that come here, just passing through or regularly stalking– hi!!), I like [old] country music anyway. For some reason it feels like Patsy Cline weather lately.

This is my unhappy I’m cold face. Though, I am strangely obsessed with the dyed red collar on this winter coat I was given (thanks, btw!). I’m pretty sure it’s made out of bunny. I feel guilty about it, but it’s so warm and soft. My mother says, “It was either you or the rabbit,” though I kind of doubt that.

A bit of lazy post, I realize. What? It’s cold! Hard to type with mittens on, you know!

Oh– you say? But April– you haven’t told us what’s been in your stomach lately! You can’t just end it like that! Well, kids, if you must ask, on Friday I had delicious Peking (Beijing? What’s culturally correct?) duck at my work’s end of the year party:

1. Dolsot Bibimbap (loosely translates to “mixed rice and vegetables in a stoneware pot” or in fewer words, “delicious”)= Joy.

2. An order of jimdak (soy chicken-y goodness with potatoes and glass noodles) + eight of your friends (because c’mon, the plate is bigger than a walrus’ head) = a party.

It snowed today. Although I’ve been bitching about the cold, I’ll have to admit that the sight of falling snow fills me with such childish ebullience that I almost forgive winter. It is magical! And the lights! And Christmas is coming and… yeah holiday cheer and what not. I’m down with that. Why is Christmas so early in winter? Why not save it for January or February, so there’s something to look forward to, besides early nights and extremity-biting chills? I suppose it has something to do with the solstice.  Anyway, other good thing about winter is good warm food designed to heat your heart and your other insides. My favorite hot food, of course (besides hot chocolate and tea) is soup. I love soup, especially these soups, which are makeout-with-your-spoon delicious.

First of all, let’s talk about Korean soups. You know, I was going to name this entry “Jjigae–What? Jjigae–Who?” but other than the fact that is a lame (though amusing… if only to me) title, it was incorrect. I’m not even gonna talk about jigae, though I think that is the most famous/prevalent of Korean soups.  Jjigae is a variety of Korean soup/stew, usually red in coloring due to the chili powder and is probably my first steamy, brothy love from this peninsula. Soondubu jjigae is my favorite. But what about guks and tangs! I love guks and tangs: mandoo guk (dumpling soup), bukeoguk (pollack soup), wanjatang (meatball soup), gamjatang (pork spine soup), and of course samgyetang (chicken soup stuffed with rice). I was going to share a picture of my mandoo guk, but I uh, ate it already. Instead, enjoy that picture of samgyetang from last spring (above).

Also, last-last Sunday I got a chance to go to the Russian district of Seoul with a couple of friends. It’s a tiny neighborhood, just a few blocks away from the grand shopping complexes of Dongdaemun and features a tiny bakery full of blintzes and meat crispy meat pies and also this restaurant. If I’m remembering the story correctly, it is run by a lesbian who was a former dancer but then got pregnant, and could dance no longer? For some reason that sounds like a cautionary tale, the stuff of old world fables, or at least a Lifetime movie. Anyway, what I know for sure, that it is staffed by a woman with wine colored hair who speaks Korean with that dragged gruffness of a Russian accent. The inside of the restaurant, “Yumi” with a yellow sign– yes, quotes in the name included, also looks like the downstairs kitchen of a house. And it even includes a framed screencap of the one time it was feature on the television station MBC. Everything we had was good: some meat and potatoes, this rice noodle soup thing with big chunks of beef, but my favorite was the borscht– the borscht was a thing of tomatoey, beety glory, perfect for a gloomy Sunday:

Also concluding the list of my favorite soups is the lentil soup from Dubai Restaurant in Itaewon. It’s beany, peppery goodness, adding little bit of lemon gives it that extra kick of complex zest. It’s pretty amazing.

Admittingly, not much to look at in its takeout container, lit by the glow of my apartment’s fluorescent lighting. Trust me, it’s delicious.

And… as a bonus. Something else not soup-related to give you the warm n’ fuzzies:

I could watch this all day! Um. Not that I have, or anything (cough). It’s just the way the little dude swivels his hips during the chorus, it’s kind of hypnotic. I’m going to keep my opinion on the original video to myself, mostly because my opinion is highly embarrassing. I will say it is worth checking out though, especially if you’re into fey Korean dudes sprouting wings and attempting sexy faces.

Oh P.S. Also, also– speaking of hot– instead of just warm. Guess who I saw at the flower shop last Friday?

Miss.

Lee.

Hyori.

She kind of, uh, makes me want to give up as a woman. (sigh)

So that cold season is here, and with that comes a few changes. Blah blah blah, the leaves have shivered off, I have to relearn how to tie a scarf, I refuse to walk to work, while my friends in California are boasting 80 degree temperatures, I’m trying to get myself out of bed by noon (the cover of two comforters is too good, too toasty to escape. I’m kind of glad I don’t have furniture so I can just sit in bed while writing this). It short, it kind of sucks. But, here in Korea, there are a few puzzling things about winter. Things you wouldn’t expect. Like, it’s strawberry season. I like strawberries– especially when they’re sold from an ajusshi on the back of a truck (right next to the rotisserie chickens being sold out of the back of a truck) at 5,000 won a basket. But, you know, I didn’t think strawberries were winter fruit. I do know it has something to do with greenhouses, etc (someone explained it to me, but I’ve forgotten/wasn’t listening– sorry!) but it’s still, you know… strange.

Another thing that’s strange about Korean winter: in addition to strawberries, it is also super sexy short skirt and shorts season. But April, isn’t it always super sexy short skirt and shorts season?

SNSD. P.S. What the hell does vaguely nautical costuming have to do with a song called “Genie?” Is this just another thing I can’t question, but merely have to accept?

… The answer to that question would be yes. As we’ve learned in a post forever ago, it doesn’t matter how many miles (or kilometers, since Korea uses the metric system) of leg you show, as long as you cover up all the flesh underneath your neck with a top, it’s not slutty. Of course, why would you suggest such a thing?

Of course this does not apply to men. Um. I don’t think so. Though admittedly, I don’t see a lot of Korean man chest (am I  going to the wrong places?) Who am I kidding? I just wanted to post a picture of Daniel Henney. Um. Now where was I? Where am I?

ANYWAY…  well what I’m saying is, winter is when every woman seems to be wearing a pair of shorts. When it’s -5 degrees celsius. Why? Why would women brave the chills, feeling of frostbitten limbs to wear a pair of skimpy bottom things?

Oh, I can tell you why– because it looks cuter when you’re wearing a pair of boots, duh. And stockings/leggings of course. So, really it’s super sexy skimpy skirt short with stockings season.

Now, here would be the cultural critique, I could ramble on and on about the constant pressure to look good in Korea’s “Barbie doll culture” (thanks Seong, for the terminology)– how more often that not, women are evaluated on their appearance and are pressured to wear uncomfortable clothing to fit some impossible and harmful ideal…(I’m also thinking of all those Korean women I see clacking down subway stairs and up hills in the thinnest and highest of heels) but all that stuff has been said by more informed, more articulate people. I don’t really need to reiterate it here.

That also being said, I did buy some wool shorts and some stockings and gray boots today. Whoops. There goes my cred. It does look really cute, in my opinion.

Also I really want an anorak. Um, you know, to wear with the shorts.

In other news, Soo and I went to this great Japanese ramen place by the Kunsthalle Space in Nonhyeon.

Look at that broth, how that egg is poached, those mushrooms, that pork. Yum. Now that’s something hot that everybody can get behind (unless you’re a vegetarian, I guess).

]]> http://bunchabanchan.wordpress.com/2009/11/26/the-parodoxes-of-winter/feed/ 0 bunchabanchan DSCF4578 snsd_genie-200907012254153 Daniel-Henney-9 DSCF4675 http://bunchabanchan.wordpress.com/2009/11/15/who-says-contemporary-art-is-a-bore/ http://bunchabanchan.wordpress.com/2009/11/15/who-says-contemporary-art-is-a-bore/#comments Sun, 15 Nov 2009 23:50:34 +0000 bunchabanchan http://bunchabanchan.wordpress.com/?p=550 ]]>

“Is it going to be cool? Because I don’t want to go if it’s not cool.”

“This show has nothing to prove to you, April.”

So what to do on Sunday night? How about go to a super awesome art show in an unfinished art museum that used to be the Korean government’s torture headquarters (former “Defense and Security Complex” during that whole ‘dictator’ period)?

Yeah, I did that. A combination of haunted house-ness (times I yelped: twice), cool lighting, and political commentary, it was a pretty brilliant way to spend an evening… even if it was super cold. Anyway, I’ll leave the  criticism to the professionals, here are just some cool pictures.

You can find more info here.

Anyway, that’s it. The exhibit is up until early December. I’d go again, defintely.

And Paul, Russell and I agreed that you’d “go apeshit” here.

So lately my life has taken a trip to Non Sequitur Land, with sentences like, “I fished a paperclip from a princess’ mouth,” and “I think the demon children will eat him, I can tell,” coming out of my mouth at regular intervals. Some kid told me I “looked like  a Peppero stick” the other day. I suppose I should take that as a compliment: tall, skinny, and… dipped in chocolate? But that’s all in a day’s work as a teacher, I suppose.

Nice building in Sinsa-dong. Changed colors in time with the building next to it. Sometimes spelled out Chinese characters. I don’t know if that’s trying to hard to be awesome or just plain… awesome.

Play time, however, has become a bit fancier than those Incheon days. No more Max Riders and cheese kimbap, now it’s…well to be honest, now it’s sitting in my apartment and watching Top Chef, but sometimes, I take a bus south of the river (Fancytown Seoul) and indulge in its… fanciness. For those that aren’t “in the know,” South of the Han is known for being home to the wealthier districts of Seoul: Gangnam, Apgujeong, Cheongdam, etc.

On Sunday I went with the work crew (work gang? work unit? which do you prefer?) to Spa Lei in Sinsa-dong. Spa Lei is a women’s only facility and it’s pretty much a public bathhouse or jjimjilbang, but “without ajusshis cleaning their face with their own sweat.” It was amazing and super relaxing. There were green tea baths, rosewater baths, outdoor (but shielded from lookey-loos) pools, steam rooms, ovens, infared rooms (to feel like a piece of reheated fast food?), and a ton of other stuff. I got my face threaded, which is just as painful as it sounds. Basically you could spend a whole day there just lounging around without clothes or in your robe, eating sweet potatoes and eggs, taking baths, watching soap operas, and getting pampered. I like it. I really like it. It’s like spending time at home being lazy in your underwear, but with a bunch of strangers…. Doesn’t that sound, uh, appealing?

You’d think the whole “naked” thing would make you feel embarrassed and squeamish, but it’s not awkward at all. It’s a very communal, casual, I’ve-got-no-clothes-on-and-so-do-you. It kind of makes you wish that the States had such a healthy non-prudish relationship with nudity, that nudity didn’t necessarily equate sexuality and what not, that people could just be comfortable with their bodies as is, in a family environment. There seems to be so much shame in American culture, about things that are normal and everyday, and I just feel like we should all, you know, get over it. But anyway, I don’t want to sound weird, but you really haven’t lived until some middle aged woman has scrubbed off all your dead skin while you lie on a table. Seriously.

Obviously, I have no pictures, but at jjimjilbang you can fashion your towel much like Princess Leia. Get it? Leia hairdo at Spa Lei? That was bad, I’m sorry. From here: http://www.randomwire.com/sheep-head

Anyway, afterwards, we headed off to Garosu-gil, which is this famed tree-lined street in Sinsa-dong (is this its own dong or a part of the greater Apgujeong Fancy District?). It’s a really nice place, lots of shops, brunch places, cafe places, and people so beautiful they make you feel bad about yourself. We ended up eating at School Food, this fusion Korean place, which is basically a kimbap joint classed-up with a few Western influences. It’s kind of the Korean equivalent to Ketchup in West Hollywood (a place where I’ve sat next to Paula Abdul while eating kobe beef hot dogs, ah but that’s another story). On the menu there are some questionable items like carbonara tteokbokki (who knows, could be amazing) but we ordered this less extreme variant with mozzarella and a sweet/hot tteokbokki sauce. It was my favorite thing we ate:

I have a ton pictures of the other stuff we ate, but I guess you can just check my facebook for that.

So I’ll end on that note.  Until next time, everybody.

There are few things that I love more in this world than some properly prepared, fresh guacamole.

This pretty little cup of awesome is from Uncle 29 Mexican Grill in Gangnam. Okay, so I’m never in Gangnam, mostly because I find it’s dense vertical city-ness kind of cold and charmless compared with home-y Hongdae. It’s too many chains, too many people. However I guess there are some interesting things about it (the little poles with internet access and games, and oh yes, the wealth) and this place is one of them. Here is a picture of a burrito.

Now, I am in no way comparing this to the perfect states of grace from home (ie, a suadero taco at 3 am from a taco truck, eaten on the back of a Corolla with your mildly inebriated friends)… I think it’s mainly a meat issue. I feel like in South Korea, when it comes to Western food, it isn’t about the meat, it’s about the fixings. The burgers are like that. You will never get a perfect patty– but you can decorate it real nice with things. It is the same with Uncle 29. And what fixings they have! LIMES. AVOCADO. Things that are almost fables in these parts. And the beans, oh, gorgeous beans.

Other places of note in Gangnam are:

Butterfinger Pancakes: Home of many gastronomic massacres.

And the Underground Shopping Center (located in Gangnam station)! I go there for all my basics: nice sweaters, boots, black cardigans. Though sometimes it still breaks my heart. An 80,000 won pink plaid dress? Banana yellow flats? A black motorcycle jacket? These things are foolish to buy. But I want to. I really want to. Oh! And the Underground has this great french fry place which satisfies my need for fake nacho cheese and potatoes:

When did this become a blog about what I’ve put in my belly?

Is this better than me lazily putting up k-pop videos?

You know, for someone who’s moved to the smack-dab, seriously geographically center of a large urban metropolis, I don’t really get out much anymore. Last week, I went all over Seoul in brief morning expeditions, zig zagging to Nowon (NE), to Gwangmyeong (SW) to Bundang (SE) on several craigslist quests for household items. But mostly, I’ve been keeping it close to Itaewon-dong (Is it a -dong? or a -gu? Neither?)

I took this in Unjungdong in Bundang, as I was buying a sweet 15,000 won rice cooker. As you can see fall is occurring, in that non-arbitrary, four seasons kind of way that Koreans are so fond of.

However, for the most part, I’ve become very domestic, devoting evenings to reading books, intending to catch up on my laundry, unclogging my sink, and trying to figure out the ins and outs of my Hangul-ed appliances. Perhaps it’s the second year in Korea malaise or the fact that hiking up to my apartment on a hill (not a hyperbole, as my friend stated once, you may be “in need of a sherpa”) is kind of an undertaking, or the fact that I work on Saturdays mostly and don’t have that desire to “make something” out of my weekend. Or maybe, maybe my neighborhood’s just rad.

I live up here.

Anyway, sometimes I try to cook for myself. Though to be honest, I get a little lazy… but nowadays, because of my location, going to the local kimbap place has been replaced with going to the local kebab place. Mostly Mr. Kebab, though sometimes I cheat on him with Ankara Picnic.

Here are some of my recent efforts:

Grilled cheese FAIL.

Cheese ramen.

Rice from said magic rice cooker.

Angel hair pasta sauteed with sun-ripened tomatoes, mushrooms and olives, sprinkled with Parmesan cheese.

Don’t worry about me, I’m doing fine living on my own. Really. Not photographed: that time I successfully made kimchi fried rice, that time I made garlic fried rice, that time I made rice and egg with spam slices. I aspire to make curry (out of a box) next.

I’m just going to say it: I hate Costco.

One of those jars of mayo. Faces censored to protect the innocent and those who used that mayo to make their hair shinier and later smelt strangely of salad dressing for weeks. Just kidding! It was only a couple days.

Now, to most people in the States, Costco is AMAZING. It’s warehouse wonderland full of hot dogs on the cheap, hairnetted fairy godmothers bestowing every form of sustenance in little paper cups, and near mythic, head-sized jars of mayonnaise. I really do have fond memories of Costco back home. And I would even say that Costco in Korea is not all that different. It’s the same layout, same font on the logo, some of the same products (plus some regional variations like bulgogi bakes along with the immortal chicken bake). Theoretically, the experience should be the same, right?

Well, not really. What Costco in Seoul also provides, along with a good selection of cheeses, is a sense of your own mortality, an acute awareness of the insignificance of your life, and an overwhelming sense of rage and aggression towards your fellow human beings.

Last week, my co-workers and I were talking about going there, and there were tales of shopping carts nipping heels and altercations between grandmothers and ketchup-hoarding ajummas (the best quote from that story: “This KETCHUP is for someone IN THE HOSPITAL.” This was not in the store area, but in the food court, where ketchup is free-flowing, though I’m not sure about the legality of putting said ketchup in large ziplock bags)… but I had yet to live those stories. I was willing to forgive some of it, accidents happen, people are allowed to put huge dollops of onions on their plate and use it as a side dish, and not a topping, and some bitches are just crazy, that’s alright, it isn’t Costco itself. But I had yet to experience the madness. From what it seemed, like when I went: shit like that happens all the time!

For example: I was standing in line in the food court (which is in the basement, not outside, which adds to the fluorescent lit clausterphobia of it all) and I was next. But then the cashier has to refill the register. And that would have been fine, if this lady behind me doesn’t crowd me so badly that’s she’s practically half hugging me, stomach pudge prodding me in the back, in order to put her won on the table! What did she think she could just slip by and cut me? What is up with that?!

(I was going to draw a diagram here, but I can’t actually draw, you get the point)

Not to mention getting a seat in the food court is like playing high stakes musical chairs (though Russell would say, “no it’s not. People that play musical chairs agree to play that game.”). Three seconds of getting up to get onions means that some ajumma in a pink hiking outfit with three slices of pizza is going to swoop in and take your spot. Someone should do research on the dexterity and quickness of middle aged Korean women. Is it the kimchi? The living through the Korean War?

Why is Costco so frustrating? Is just that people go mad for wholesale (p.s. I don’t know why they check your bags, it’s not like they sell anything tiny enough to steal)? Is it the worse parts of American consumerism imported and combined with Korean population density?

Anyway, maybe you don’t get it. Maybe I just seem to be complaining (well, I am). Maybe you had to be there. Maybe you have to go there. But here’s what I have to say in short:

Dear Diary,

Costco is hell.

The end.

Okay, anyway, to brighten up my day and because it’s almost that time of the year again, here are pictures of Korean people in animal hats:

Image from here.