Woomi is an old-school 닭갈비 dakgalbi restaurant that has been in the mountain lakeside city of 춘천 Chuncheon, South Korea, since 1970.
If you see the wagon wheel, you know you’re in chicken heaven. (Jeff Quackenbush photo)
This was the Chuncheon dakgalbi I remember from my teaching English in the city in 1997. That was before the 2002 Korean TV drama 겨울연가 Gyeoun Yeonga (Winter Sonata) turned the sites used for filming into a foreign tourism magnet as well as the 2005 closure of the U.S. Army’s Camp Page carried the city’s destiny in a totally different direction.
“Authentic” ingredients for the spicy marinaded chicken stir-fried dish Chuncheon is known for are 가래떡 garaedeok (large rice noodle), julienned sweet potato, diced Nappa cabbage, 껫잎 kkaenip (Perilla frutescens var. japonica), green onion, garlic and onion. Key components of the marinade are 고추가루 gochugaru (spicy red pepper powder), ginger, soy sauce and a dash of Korean- or Japanese-style curry powder.
More recent variations of Chuncheon dakgalbi include finishing touches of rice or noodles and lots of cheese.
This is where the tasty begins. (Jeff Quackenbush photo)
반찬 Banchan (appetizer or side dish) for our dakgalbi at Woomi was a small bowl of 동치미 dongchimi (“winter kimchi”) to refresh the palate. Leaves of romaine lettuce to slather with 고추장 gochujang (spicy red pepper paste) and wrap around the dakgalbi, raw onion and raw garlic.
This is where the tasty chicken ends up, laying on a bed of gorgeous lettuce with some raw onion tucked inside. (Jeff Quackenbush photo)
Going back to Chuncheon
Attending a friend’s wedding in mid-May was a good excuse to indulge in the many good reasons to visit Korea. For me, the most exciting reason was a return after 15 years to my Korean “hometown” of Chuncheon, located about 75 kilometers east-northeast of Seoul in 강원도 Gangwon province.
It used to be a two-hour train ride between Seoul and Chuncheon, but now there’s both ITX high speed rail — takes about an hour and has mostly reserved seats for ₩6,700 (about $7) — and a subway line — takes about 90 minutes with first-come seating for ₩2,800 (about $3).
If you have any doubt as to which train to catch, just follow the throngs of middle-aged men and women decked out in their matching hiking clothes and equipment. Most likely, they’re heading toward Gangwon for some prime hiking and camping somewhere in between.
For the possibly under-equipped hiker, an ajumma walked through the subway cars, selling wide-brimmed hiking hats, gloves and face guards.
This is not Joon-Sang and Yu-Jin’s Chuncheon station. (Jeff Quackenbush photo)
The first thing we noticed about Chuncheon’s ongoing facelift was the train station itself. The simple train platform we frequented, and seen in Winter Sonata, had been replaced by a architecturally modern glass-and-stainless-steel building.
This is what is left of Camp Page in May 2013: a water tower and a large green field. The imposing concrete wall topped with razor wire is long gone. (Jeff Quackenbush photo)
A second major difference: The tall razor-wire-topped concrete walls of Camp Page no longer blocks your entry into Chuncheon. Instead of spending an extra ₩2,000 in taxi fare to circumnavigate the base as we used to, we had a straight shot from the station through the former base grounds to downtown and 명동 Myeong-dong (the main shopping district).
We walked from the train station straight up 평화로 Pyeonghwa-ro/금강로 Geumgang-ro to the Myeong-dong plaza (on the right, just past 정강로 Jungang-ro). It would have been a 20-minute walk or a few minutes by taxi, but on the way we meandered through the underground shopping bazaar, which was under construction when we were last there.
“Dakgalbi Street,” an alley dakgalbi restaurants side by side, is off the central Myeong-dong plaza, with its Winter Sonata memorial Christmas trees on each light pole. (The trees recall a scene from the drama.)
Hubby and I would come to Dakgalbi Street after our morning classes, so being back there was like 1997 all over again. But at that time, rather than trees on light poles, the recurring motif in the shopping court was the soundtrack to the hit TV drama of the time, Star in My Heart, seemingly on a continual loop from music store outdoor speakers.
Good for: if you are a fan of the K-drama “Winter Sonata”
40
Worth it?
30
Authenticity
50
Uniqueness
50
Fun
Ah, Nami Island: The Disneyland of Korea, without the charm or the iconic mouse ears.
Look, I’ve got nothing against Nami Island—been there, done that, dodged the Instagram Couples™ on their pedal-powered chariots of narcissism.
But if you’re visiting Korea for the first time, let me lay it down for you: You’ve got better options, people!
First off, Nami Island is an artificial paradise, born after some dam flooded a hunk of land. Its origin story is as manufactured as some K-Pop bands’ personalities. Sure, there’s a historic tale tucked in there somewhere, but let’s be honest: Are you really going for the history?
Nah. You’re going for the ‘Gram, aren’t you?
So, you’re in for folk art galore, which is basically code for “weird stuff you can’t explain but makes for quirky photo ops.” Ever seen an art installation made of recycled soju bottles? Yeah, Nami’s got that. A toast to sustainable alcoholism, I guess?
Look out for bike trails, but not for the exercise or the lovely scenery—more to avoid the assault course of rent-a-bikes swerving around while their riders try to capture that perfect candid shot.
Well, too bad because half the island is an ode to it. And yes, that’s a Korean drama so old it probably has its own place in Korean folklore by now. It’s like going to a ’90s nostalgia cafe but without the good music or Pogs.
In a nutshell, Nami Island is basically a big garden that managed to slap a zip line onto it and call it an “attraction.” You’ll have to haul yourself all the way to Chuncheon to experience this bucket-list item that should never have been on your bucket list. People who’ve made the pilgrimage usually say, “It’s nice, but I don’t get what the big deal is.”
There’s something I’d say for Korea that I wouldn’t say for America–there are some freakin’ good restaurant franchises that I’d recommend even over independent restaurants. Their quality is consistently good. These Korean restaurant franchises would also be great brands to export.
I’m leaving out the fried chicken and non-Korean-food franchises as they require separate posts. There are many other franchises out there, and some are good. But they’re either not great (Bon Juk, Baekje Samgyetang), or they are inconsistent (Andong Jjimdalk, Omogari Kimchi Jjigae).
Maetdollo-man 맷돌로만
Even though the name sounds like a superhero, it means something like, “Only from the Millstone.”
This is my new favorite franchise, and they’re expanding rapidly. They specialize in tofu. Housemade tofu. They make it out front behind the window for everyone to see. Korean tofu converts people who hate tofu. It has a rough masculine quality.
Get their Dubu Bossam set, which includes some tender pork belly with tofu and wraps. Also get their Dubu Jeon, which is a crunchy pancake made solely out of tofu. Pure protein.
I can’t find a website for them, and it looks like each one of their storefronts is slightly different. Just copy and paste 맷돌로만 on Google and Naver.
Yeah, it’s just bossam. But it is consistently good. We tend to get it delivered, but I think it’s best in the restaurant itself. The banchan is always diverse and tasty, including that sweet, fruity fresh kimchi. They have lunch specials that will fill you up.
This Korean restaurant chain has been getting quite popular with Koreans and expats. They are part of this 1970s nostalgic trend. Look at the lattice-work on the doors and the general feel of the place. Some locations even have marshaling anthems blaring outside, harkening back to, um, simpler times?
I’ve been a fan of their hangjeongsal and geopdaegi (pork skin), but the thing to order (thanks, Lisa Kelley) is the Yeoltan Bulgogi 열탄불고기. It’s shaved pork smothered in spicy sauce. Toss that on the grill and make sure you have your favorite bev handy.
This is the star franchise of celebrity chef Paik Jong-won. This guy is notorious for sticking his face on EVERYTHING. The guy has franchises for most any product, including coffee. Most of his franchises suck, but this is the one good one.
The legend of Jaws goes like this. A guy quit his job and wanted to start a tteokbokki hut. Yet he didn’t know the first thing about making it. He spent months in the kitchen perfecting his recipe. The result is a spicy and addictive tteokbokki. But Jaws doesn’t stop there. They also serve a meaty soondae sausage, hearty odeng fish cakes, and super light and crispy twigim (tempura). I like mixing it all together with the thick tteokbokki sauce.
When I was in Chuncheon, the DalkGalbi capital of the world, I noticed that there were restaurants serving a sutbul (charcoal-grilled) version. Soon after, this Orai opened in my town of Anyang.
This is great stuff! Dark meat chicken marinated in a sweet spicy sauce and thrown on the charcoal grill in front of you. Yes, you don’t get the usual fried rice at the end, but by then you’re on your third order. It’s reasonably priced as well. One order will feed two people–or one Joe. I’ve had this at another location in Seoul, and it is just as good there.
Nolboo is hard to peg. They’re a brand that has many different types of Korean restaurants. Some do Budae Jjigae, some do Clay Pot Duck, some do Galbi Jjim. In most cases, they serve high quality versions of whatever dish they specialize in. The Clay Pot Duck, Yuhwang Ori 유황오리, is the closest you get to Thanksgiving dinner in a Korean restaurant. The duck is stuffed with rice, various seeds, fruits, and Chinese medicinal ingredients. It’s then baked in a clay pot for a few hours. The result is this steamy tender meat with this aromatic stuffing. Bring a bottle of pinot noir for this one.
The Budae Jjigae restaurants do the classic “army base stew” with the classic spam and hot dogs. But they also add little bonuses like pepperoni. Their Galbi Jjim restaurants serve taste-bud-obliterating spicy ribs that I can’t get enough of.
They’re not really a restaurant. They’re a tea purveyor. They have cafes in Insa-dong and around town. They open booths in high end department stores. O’Sulloc is a Jeju-based green tea producer that has shown how world class Korean tea can be. They’re not cheap, but unlike many Korean companies that sell products at premium prices, O’Sulloc’s teas are truly premium. Their basic green tea, which they roast and brew for free samples in Insa-dong, packs so much of a punch that you won’t return to the sawdust in the teabags. The complexity makes it so interesting. They don’t just do green tea. O’Sulloc carries a large swath of flavored and themed teas. They even have some super posh black box teas. Most of them would make perfect gifts.
Based in Jeonju, home of the pinnacle of bibimbaps, Gogung brings this famous dish in its most Platonic ideal. When you see gorgeous colorful photos of bibimbap, this is the type they serve. The signature Jeonju bibimbap comes in a brass bowl and is chock full of little goodies, complete with the raw egg yolk that binds it together after mixing. You usually find branches in department stores. If you can’t make it to Jeonju, try it here.
Bukchon Mandu makes their dumplings fresh. You can see them wrapping them in the open window where people pick them up to eat on the street or take home. Their Manduguk (mandu soup) warms you up and fills you up for the afternoon. Make sure to get some of those Sae-oo Mandu (Shrimp Mandu, pictured above). Likely, you’ll get more.
Not-so-great Korean Restaurant Franchises
And these either suck the soul out of Korean food or are just poorly executed.
Oh, the things that continue to be wrong with this concept! I had already told you the story on how CJ approached me and a few others to help organize market testing with westerners for a bibimbap concept they were planning to take overseas. The original restaurant was Cafe Sobahn, which was pretty cool. The sprouts they grew hydroponically in the shop. You could see them. After trying and rating different dishes, they ended the testing by saying, “We’re thinking of going with the name Bibigo. What do you think of that name?”
The group unanimously said it was a horrible name. The CJ manager took the results to his superiors. The superiors looked at it and tossed the results away, along with Cafe Sobahn itself. They didn’t fit with what they planned.
A disaster
The result has been one of many money pits for the CJ conglomerate. The only reason the Bibigo branches in the U.S. and even in Seoul have stayed afloat is that CJ’s deep pockets are patching the holes. They use the franchise to boast to the Korean public that they’re spreading Korean cuisine. But few have asked them whatever happened to their prediction to have many more restaurants open than they have now.
It’s a money suck. The exec in charge of this has famously compared herself to Steve Jobs, which is her excuse for not paying attention to market research. She doesn’t realize that Steve Jobs could get away with it because–he was Steve jobs. Every move they have done has been crass and out of touch with the market. But hey! They had Psy!
(What’s funny is that Psy was the face for Nolboo before he came out with Gangnam Style.)
Since I first posted about this, they had a disaster of a restaurant in London, and the chain is dying out. But now they’re known for their frozen mandu.
Korea’s answer to TGI McChilibee’s. They try to do the chain casual dining fern bar concept a la Outback. This could have worked. Unfortunately, like so many prepped up Korean endeavors, they somehow surgically removed all the fun, flavor, and excitement of Korean BBQ while upping the price, pairing it with Yellow Tail Merlot.
Oh, I’m going to get my ass chewed for this one. But I seriously don’t see what the hype is about this beyond being an institution. It’s like how I don’t get The Varsity in Atlanta. Everyone says you have to go there, but unless you’re sentimental for it, it is disappointing.
I’ll say this, the broth in the Kalguksu is fine. But that’s about it. The meat is grisly and low quality. The dumplings are just the same as you’d get anywhere else. And that kimchi–it’s god awful! It’s like they put no jeotgal in it and just doused it in raw garlic and gochugaru. You only eat the kimchi because there’s no other option. There are many much better kalguksu joints in Korea, like Hwangsaengga Kalguksu in Bukchon.
If you’re easily impressed by gimmicks, this is your place. Their fire beef sushi isn’t bad. But the namesake noodles are dull, dull, dull. It should be a blinking warning when a restaurant imprints their logo on the egg in your bowl.
Shinpo Uri Mandu 신포 우리 만두
Just ralph on my plate and serve it with rice, why don’t ya!
They supposedly specialize in mandu. It’s in their freakin’ name! The frozen mandu given out as free samples at E-Mart are better.
Grainy. Mealy. Tasteless.
So you know it’s only downhill when you try their non-mandu items.
What great (or bad) Korean food franchises am I leaving out? Say so in the comments.
There’s a Bon Dosirak franchise near my day job’s location. This is the latest concept from Bon Juk and Bon Bibimbap. I’ve had a few of these dosirak (lunchboxes) before. I particularly like the way they pay tribute to regional cuisines, like the Andong Jjimdalk dosirak, the Sokcho Spicy Octopus dosirak, and the Chuncheon DalkGalbi dosirak.
I’m going to try to systematically go through as much as I can of their menu in the next couple of months. Honestly, there isn’t much else in this neighborhood. I also find these to be tasty, healthy, and not too harsh on the wallet.
Today, I went there for the first time. The owner was surprised to see a foreigner come in, read the menu (it’s all in hangeul), and order. She even gave me a free cup of soup because I was the first foreigner they ever had.
Today’s dosirak is the first item on their menu, Grilled Deodeok Gochujang Samgyeopsal Dosirak 더덕고추장삼겹쉬 도시락. This is a bit of a nod to Gangwon Province, where they grow deodeok. I’m a big fan of this root. “Bastard’s Ginseng.” It’s sweet and crunchy like a carrot, but it also has a little bite to it, like a horseradish. It’s cooked with some thinly sliced pork belly rubbed in gochujang.
The banchan is all designed to be a rice thief. They can’t be eaten on their own because they’re too sour and strongly seasoned. They need rice for balance. The set comes with a package of kim (dried seaweed) for making little rolls out of the banchan and rice. I also got a cup of maesil juice and the aforementioned doenjang soup.
Clockwise from the rice:
Pajeon (green onion pancake). It had a fresh oil flavor, like that of buttered popcorn.
Fried fishcake.
Deodeok Gochujang Samgyeopsal.
Imitation Crab stuffed with Sweet Potato Mousse. Delightful little morsel.
Jeotgal. Fermented sea critters. These really should just go on the rice. I love this stuff.
Pickled Cucumbers. These were so strongly pickled that they needed rice.
Stir-fried Kimchi.
The full set goes for W8,900. The “danpum” version without the four banchan on the right goes for W7,200.
Gochujang (고추장) is one of Korea’s most important “mother sauces.” It is the backbone of many popular recipes: 닭갈비 dakgalbi, 김치찌개 kimchi jjigae and 떡볶이 tteokbokki. It’s also used to make 쌈장 ssamjang, the quintessential barbecue condiment.
Gochujang‘s fermented yet sweet demeanor can also add some spicy backbone to your favorite marinara meat sauce.
Take note with this recipe: The sauce-to-pasta ratio is more Italian than American. Americans like lots of sauce on their pasta. Italians prefer lots of pasta for their sauce. This recipe leans towards the Italian style.
Clockwise from the top left are seawater tofu, dallae (달래 – small wild onion or Allium monanthum), naeng-yi (냉이 – Capsella bursapastoris), and godeul bbaegi (고들뺴기 – Crepidiastrum sonchifolium). With the exception of tofu, these are considered early spring herbs easily found in grocery stores. But the ones above that I found in Chuncheon open market (오일장 – o il jang) were a different breed with their flavors so vividly fragrant, they awakened my taste buds to the new season despite the frigid cold day. The grandma who gave me a sample knew that I couldn’t resist them once I took a bite.
Again, this post is without the usual recipe measurements. I hope my description gives you an idea of how to make use of them if you find these or something similar near you. These are all simple, common preparations applied to many namul (나물 – lightly seasoned, often lightly cooked, herbs and vegetables) banchan (반찬 – side dish) in Korea. Cleaning these ingredients in the beginning took me the most time and effort, but you might not have to deal with that so much if you purchase these ingredients from a grocery store.
Pan-fried Tofu with Dallae Soy Sauce (두부 부침과 달래 간장)
Rinse tofu in cold water, then pat dry with paper towel. Cut tofu into about 1″x1″ slices. Sprinkle salt and pepper on tofu slices.
Prepare a bowl of flour and a separate bowl of egg wash (2 eggs and a spoonful of water whisked to combine). Season egg wash with salt and pepper.
On a warm pan, drizzle oil. Coat each slice of tofu in flour first then dip in egg wash. Place tofu on the pan and flip when the bottom side turns golden brown. When both sides of tofu turns golden brown, transfer them to a plate. Serve with soy sauce mixed with vinegar and toasted sesame seeds. If you have dallae, add chopped dallae for its slightly bitter, early spring flavor in the sauce.
Better yet, serve with pickled dallae and its soy pickling liquid.
Clean dallae by removing peels from its bulbs and rinse in cold water. Drain and spread them out on a paper towel-lined plate to remove excess water. Transfer dallae into a container with a lid.
Prepare soy sauce pickling liquid by pouring soy sauce and water (soy sauce: water = 1:1) in a pot, just enough to cover dallae. Add vinegar to your taste. Add peeled garlic, onion slices, and carrot slices. Also, add a sliced chili pepper if you want some heat in the background. Feel free to add a bay leaf and black peppercorns if you have them. Bring it up to a boil then pour it over dallae.
Cool to room temperature then cover with the lid. Refrigerate overnight. You can have pickled dallae for banchan and use the soy sauce liquid for seasoning in place of regular soy sauce. It has richer flavor but not as salty.
Clean naeng-yi by removing yellow or wilted leaves, rinse in cold water and drain excess water. If you want, cut them into about an inch length.
Mix cleaned naeng-yi in a spoonful of doenjang (된장 – fermented soy paste) and minced garlic (2-3 cloves) and rest for 30 minutes.
In the meantime, make stock for the soup by boiling water with a few dried anchovies and dried kelp (다시마 – da shi ma). Once kelp becomes fully bloomed, remove anchovies and kelp. Add a spoonful of doenjang and continue boiling.
Add naeng-yi and bring up to a boil again. When naeng-yi becomes soft, it’s done. Taste and adjust seasoning with soy sauce, preferably Korean soy sauce specifically for seasoning soups (국간장 – guk gan jang).
It’s the most common way to enjoy naeng-yi. Although doenjang and garlic usually play an assertive role in a dish, combined with naeng-yi, they come together well in a mellow way to show you the way to early spring.
Godeul bbaegi has a pretty strong bitter taste to it, so it’s popular as kimchi after being treated in salt for at least a few hours and dressed in the usual, spicy kimchi seasoning. I didn’t have time to make kimchi, so I went with another popular, fairly strong seasoning, chomuchim (초무침 – tossed in spicy & tangy seasoning).
Peel away blemishes and skin from godeul bbaegi by scraping them with a spoon. Rinse in cold water, then blanch briefly in salted, boiling water for 30 seconds or less. Drain and cool godeul bbaegi in ice cold water. This step helps to mellow out the usually strong bitter taste from godeul bbaegi a little bit.
Mix gochujang (고추장 – fermented red pepper paste), vinegar, sesame seeds. Taste and decide how much soy sauce to mix in.
Mix the gochujang sauce in godeul bbaegi. Sprinkle sesame seeds on top for garnish.
Korean barbecue depends on the quality of the marinade. Diners might not have the well-trained sense of a sommelier, but they will detect a difference even if they can’t identify exactly which ingredient they are noticing in a good or bad way.
There are two basic styles of marinades: acidic or enzymatic. Commonly used acidic marinades include citrus juice, such as orange or lemon juice, vinegar or wine. Enzymatic marinades include papaya or pineapple purees. The marinade’s jobs are to enrich the flavor of the meat and, depending on the cut, help tenderize it.
Herbs, oils and spices in the marinade tag along for the ride.
This particular marinade depends on the acid of the kimchi to flavor the chicken before grilling.
For many cravers of Korean cuisine, the word 닭갈비 dakgalbi is associated with commonly called 춘천 닭갈비 Chuncheon dakgalbi, a stir-fried dish of diced chicken with large rice noodles, cabbage, and sweet potato. Although dakgalbi is simpler than Chuncheon’s iconic variation, it’s very tasty in its own right.
There was enough sauce that I decided to serve it as a pasta sauce rather than on top of rice. It worked surprising well.
Here are a few things I’ve been doing in Seoul for the last 2 weeks…
Pollock stew (생태찌개 – saeng tae jji gae) in a brass pot cooked at the table. Once ignored as a reminder of the hard times, this type of thin brass pots and bowls called yang-pun (양푼) made a comeback as a nostalgic memento in Korea. I love how Korean stews can be so hearty and refreshing at the same time, and having pollock-in-season as the main ingredient only makes it better.
Thanks to Joshua of Wine Korea, I had a chance to DIY grilled clams over briquettes. Clams were fresh, fire was hot, and it was actually a lot of work, true to the meaning of do-it-yourself. It was made truly unique with a bottle of Chardonnay poured in proper wine glasses, courtesy of Joshua.
I was back at Baru, where Korean temple cuisine is served in course meals. Above is beoseot gangjeong (버섯 강정), crispy mushrooms in spicy-sweet glaze. This is a dish that would make everyone – vegetarian or not – happy.
A new duck dish at Jung Sik Dang, it tastes as good as it looks pretty on the plate, if that’s possible. Every morsel on this plate adds to the whole with its flavor and texture.
Jujube tea at a tea house in Insadong. Jujubes, a.k.a., Chinese dates (대추- dae chu) or red dates are used in traditional medicine in Korea, but don’t let that scare you away. These are naturally sweet and known to soothe your mood. After walking a long way in the cold, I think a cup of hot, sweet jujube tea would work for everyone.
I could never get tired of street food – mini kimbap, tteokbokki and fish cakes (어묵 – eo muk) in Gwangjang Market (광장 시장 – gwang jang shi jang).
I’m being a tourist in my own city and I’m finding new angles and details I overlooked before. I don’t remember much about my childhood field trips to palaces in Seoul, but this time, I was in awe in the secret garden (후원 – hu won) behind Changdeok Palace (창덕궁).
Gilsangsa (길상사) is a Buddhist temple in Seongbukdong (성북동). The site and some of the original buildings were donated by the owner of what used to be an exclusive restaurant to the Venerable Beopjeong, one of the most beloved Buddhist monks in Korea. Beopjeong seunim (스님 – Buddhist monk) later spent his last days here before he passed away in 2010. Not only does the temple sit on a picturesque site, I found another little pleasures of this temple. There are short messages and teachings of the late Beopjeong sunim found in random places in the temple. Here is one.
우리가 인생에서
참으로 소중한 것은
어떤 사회적인 지위나
신분, 소유물이 아니다.
우리들 자신이 누구인지를
아는 일이다.
– 법정 스님 –
In life,
a truly precious thing is
not any specific social status,
class, or things we own.
It is to know
who we are ourselves.
– Beopjeong Seunim –
I was off to Chuncheon (춘천) for a day trip. I think it was about -15C (5F) that day, or at least it felt like one. Still, when I got to Soyang River Dam (소양강 댐), the view just opened my eyes and my mind.
…and here are my pickings from the farmers market in Chuncheon. Clockwise from the the top left, sea water tofu, dallae (달래 – small wild onion, Allium monanthum), naeng i (냉이 – Capsella bursapastoris [argh, a very long and boring title for such tasty grass]), godeul bbaegi (고들빼기 – Crepidiastrum sonchifolium), announcing the arrival of spring.
Back in Seoul, I helped a friend with the new menu for his cafe/bar. Look out for the new bruschetta plate at 1950 hotel in Shinsadong (신사동) Garosugil (가로수길).
Spending time in tourist sites in winter means…that you’re spending your day in the cold. Really cold. But it also keeps many others indoors, which allows you to take it slow and notice the remaining snow on the tiled roof at Gyeongbok Palace (경복궁). The sun came out for a few minutes before it hid itself for the rest of the day, and there was a perfect minute of silence before others joined in for the view.
Gwanghwamun (광화문), the main entrance to Gyeongbok Palace (경복궁), was reopened in 2010 after renovation. I guess I wouldn’t have walked by Gwanghwamun at this hour if I lived in Seoul. Gwanghwamun came a little closer and real to me this time.
Ssamjigil (쌈지길) in Insadong is a complex of cute shops selling traditional, kitchy, fun, random stuff like teas, T-shirts, plates and hats.
Cheong-gye-cheon (청계천) is a stream running through the middle of the busy office and tourist districts in Seoul. Looking down the water feels rather cold during the day, but evening lights seem to warm it up a bit.
Bukchon Hanok Maeul (북촌 한옥 마을) is a hilly neighborhood lined with traditional houses. Although I had been here before, I decided to take a detour on my way to dinner that evening. How glad I was to go the long way instead of rushing to a meeting like I usually do.
That’s what I have for now. I’m spending my last couple of days in Seoul with my family and wrapping things up. I’m not really sure how I’ll organize hundreds of photos I took, but I hope to tell you somewhat coherent, interesting stories through those photos soon. But I’ll worry about that when I get back to New York.
Other than Seoul, we don’t visit any super famous towns on this trip, but we do have fun. This is one of my favorite episodes. Here are some highlights, commentary, and trivia.
This is where our conflicts with the writer start to surface. She wrote some awful stuff that we had to cope and rewrite.
The episode starts with me “jogging” early in the morning (met the van around 4 a.m.) on the Han River in Seoul. My opening consists of me talking about how pure the water is–after we picked up the trash that was in the shot. We joked that the writer should go for a swim in the Han after writing that.
Am I doing a good job of pretending I’m out of breath from exercising? ACTING!
We shot the beginnings of episodes 3 and 4 simultaneously, so I still get them confused.
This episode took the longest to complete, consisting of many day trips and weekend trips. Many of the delays for this and episode 4 were from one of the rainiest summers in modern Korean history.
As usual, the extras in the shots are the crew.
Singing Arirang–yeah, you’re gonna hear me sing. After my final lines in this scene, the rain came pouring in.
The rail bikes we did on a day trip. One of our four interns, Seonghae, was my partner for this one.
The rail bikes I’ll do again. We were at the back of the line, so the train engine that collects the bikes and returns them afterward was right on our tail. That’s why it looks like I’m yelling at her to go faster.
The comment about holding your breath before going into the tunnel was an inside joke for my family.
We went to Nami Island for a day trip. Famous scenes from “Winter Sonata” were filmed here, and this was a kitschy shrine to the drama. What was cool was that the island was a showcase of environmentalist utopia, with soju bottles recycled into sculptures. Too bad some of the tourists didn’t go along with the environmental spirit of the island and continues to litter on the pathways.
Nami Island makes a good day trip for people in Seoul. It’s touristy but unique. And being in Chuncheon, there’s a lotta DalkGalbi.
For fans of the SeoulPodcast, you’ll recognize that we go the burial grounds of our favorite king–Sejong the Great. It was one of the hottest days of the year. But since the show would air in the fall, I had to dress as if it was much cooler.
When I’m walking through the pottery village, it’s actually drizzling a bit. Can’t tell, huh?
We spent an afternoon filming a whole segment at this one complex of me making a bowl with a woman, and it was cut.
The pottery master, Um Gi-hwan, was a super cool guy. We went to his place twice. The first time, he insisted we go to his pavilion in his backyard and have some fruit and makkolli–Icheon makkolli was the best out of all the trips.
Making pottery the traditional way needs a person with a lot of stamina to turn that wheel by foot. I’m huffing, puffing, and making mistakes because I can’t feel my leg anymore.
Through the magic of TV, it looked like we went to a kiln, fired the bowl, and looked at it afterward. In actuality, they handed me a bowl and told me to talk to him about it. We went to the kiln on another day. A rainy day. But it was some amazing samgyeopsal.
I was truly fascinated by the works of art in Mr. Um’s place. I love Korean pottery!
The slow food village was one of our first days of filming. It was one of many times in the scripts where I did activities designed for children. Besides the usual obnoxious nine-year-old boys yelling, “Waygukin annyeong,” the entire day, the kids were cool.
One of the few stunt fishes makes an appearance in this show. They wanted me to “catch” a fish with my hands, so a guy came out with an ice chest and a mostly dead fish. I had to grab it, put it in the water, and flail it around as if it was alive and kicking. Not my most humane moment in TV.
We were yelled at by a guard for filming in a neighborhood of Heyri Art Valley, but we used the footage anyway.
I like the Freedom Bridge segment. Right after filming, we sat down to eat. They only had two restaurants at this tourist site–an overpriced Korean restaurant and a Popeye’s. So we ate at the Popeye’s while I watched live Al Jazeera coverage on my phone of the rebels taking over Tripoli.
Overall, I like this episode. Most each segment was its own day of filming, usually the van meeting me after I finished the radio show at 10 a.m. and going out to some place. I’d say the episode took a month from start to finish. We had some fun times.
As of yesterday, I have finished production of my six episodes for G-Korea on Arirang TV. All the shooting, audio, and editing are done. The six episodes covered two specific locations (Pyeongchang and Jeju Island) and four rivers (the Han, Nakdong, Geum, and Yeongsan). Combined, I basically saw most of South Korea this summer. This was great. Since I have always been busy, even during vacations, I haven’t had many chances to travel around Korea. I took this hosting gig as an excuse to finally get out and see the country.
Any boy did I…
Here is a little slideshow of what I saw, did, and ate.
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