Move over Valentine’s Day; there’s a new Hallmark holiday in town—only instead of candy hearts, we get sizzling strips of pork belly. March 3rd is Samgyeopsal Day in South Korea, and yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like: an entire day dedicated to grilling fatty pork in all its glistening glory. If you’re surprised this is a thing, trust me—it’s as real as Korea’s obsession with four seasons once was.
The Pork-Backed Origin Story
Samgyeopsal Day didn’t spontaneously manifest from the communal soul of Korean culinary tradition. Instead, it was created back in 2003 by the Paju Yeoncheon Livestock Corporation—essentially the pig industry’s way of shouting, “Hey, we exist, please buy more pork!”
Why March 3rd? “Samgyeopsal” literally means “three-layered meat,” so the date 3/3 is a neat pun. Marketing genius, right?
Why do Koreans love it? Possibly because there’s a built-in excuse to eat more pork—and who doesn’t like a reason to binge on BBQ?
As cynical as that might sound, the holiday worked. It boosted domestic pork sales, propped up farmers, and before you knew it, it became an actual, if unofficial, tradition. Now we’re all telling our friends, “Happy Samgyeopsal Day!” like it’s the Year of the Pig or something.
From Pariah Meat to National Staple
Believe it or not, pork wasn’t always the superstar in Korean dining. Beef was traditionally held in higher esteem, but supply issues in the 1980s nudged the government to push pork onto the dinner table. Add in some corporate powerhouses like Samsung and Lotte getting into meat processing, plus scientific hog-raising methods (think less barnyard funk, more succulent slabs), and you’ve got the recipe for a “pork renaissance.” By the ’90s, samgyeopsal was the new normal for big nights out.
Why Does This Holiday Even Matter?
Economic Kudos: Pig farmers thrive on this annual sales boost. If Hallmark can bankroll Mother’s Day, pig farmers can do the same for Samgyeopsal.
Food Soul: Despite its marketing-engineered roots, the communal act of sharing grilled pork belly has genuine warmth. Like a good kimchi jjigae, it’s become a comfort food staple that feels authentically Korean—even if it started as a PR campaign.
How Koreans Celebrate Samgyeopsal Day
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Restaurant Promotions Expect your social media to blow up with “Samgyeopsal Day 50% OFF!” ads. If you’re a carnivorous bargain-hunter, this is your Christmas in March.
Home BBQ Feasts Got a portable grill and a decent ventilation system? Invite some friends, grab soju, and fill your house with the sweet smell of sizzling pork belly (just hope your neighbors don’t mind).
DIY Lettuce Wrap Stations A key part of samgyeopsal’s charm is how interactive it is: get your ssamjang, garlic slices, kimchi, and fresh lettuce (or perilla leaves), then wrap ‘em up. It’s build-your-own taco, Korean-style.
Creative Takes Feeling fancy? Try gochujang marinades or a drizzle of sesame oil, salt, and pepper. The combos are endless, and so is the potential for Instagram food porn—just keep it real, yeah?
Themed Sides and Culture There’s more to a proper feast than pork. Japchae, kimchi, or even a little cucumber banchan bring texture, color, and that comforting sour-spicy contrast Koreans can’t live without. Throw on some K-pop, or do a mini history lesson about why we’re doing this in the first place—beyond just “3/3.”
Craving a Real Samgyeopsal Party? Book The Ultimate Korean BBQ Experience
Fun Ways to Celebrate at Home
Host a Korean Drinking Game Night: You’ve got the soju, you’ve got the pork. Add a few rounds of “Baskin Robbins 31” or “Titanic” (the soju-floating-in-beer-cup game), and watch the night unfold.
Fusion Feast: Feeling adventurous? Wrap your grilled pork in tortillas for a “K-Mex” twist, or stuff it into kimbap for a bizarre but surprisingly tasty roll.
Solo Samgyeopsal: Who says you need company? Fire up your grill pan, binge some K-dramas, and enjoy the privacy of not having to share.
Is Samgyeopsal Day Overhyped?
Of course it is. But so is Black Friday. We’re talking about a day conceived as a marketing gimmick that morphed into a borderline national celebration. Yet, here we are, excitedly marking it on the calendar. In a sense, that’s Korea’s magic: turning a PR stunt into something that actually feels meaningful by weaving it into the social fabric—food, friends, and family.
Final Thoughts
If you think Samgyeopsal Day is just another corporate-manufactured holiday, well, you’re not wrong. But it’s also a delicious excuse to gather around the grill and enjoy the smoky scent that’s as comforting to Koreans as fireworks on the Fourth of July are to Americans. Sometimes, that’s all the reason we need.
So, on March 3rd, do what Koreans do: celebrate a silly date that turned into a cherished tradition—and partake in that warm, interactive fun of sharing grilled pork belly with good company. Just be sure to crack a joke about how you’re doing your patriotic duty to support local farmers by chowing down on one more slice. Ssamjang optional—but highly recommended.
Happy Samgyeopsal Day, Everyone!
Put on your stretchy pants, gather your favorite humans, and toast to the “three-layered meat” that’s wrapped this country’s heart in smoky, savory goodness for decades. Marketing ploy or not, it’s time to feast. Enjoy!
Korea’s Christmas traditions may not have the same historical weight as in the West, but they’ve come a long way since the late 19th century, when missionaries introduced the holiday, even installing a Christmas tree in the palace by request of the queen. I’m not sure if any Christmas drinks were included in these early celebrations. We cover the history of modern Christmas in Korea on The Dark Side of Seoul Podcast.
While the holiday has taken on unique twists here, one thing remains true: food and drink are at the heart of any celebration. And while Korea doesn’t really have traditional Christmas beverages, I’ve discovered some drinks that feel like they belong at the holiday table.
Let’s explore these Korean Christmas drink ideas that add a little holiday magic to your winter.
Think of Moju as Korea’s answer to mulled wine, but with a cozy twist. This Jeonju specialty is what happens when makgeolli (Korean rice ale) meets a steaming pot of cinnamon, ginger, jujubes, and ginseng—all boiled together for a full day. The result? A warm, comforting elixir that’s low on alcohol (around 1–2%) but high on cozy vibes. This is Korea’s answer to mulled wine, but it’s sweeter, earthier, and way more chill—literally.
The Origins of Moju: A Mother’s Touch
The story goes that Moju (literally “mother’s wine”) was created in the 1600s by a queen consort’s mother. Exiled to Jeju Island (life wasn’t easy for moms back then), she found herself with leftover grains from makgeolli production and a need to survive. What does a resourceful queen mum do? She boils the grains with herbs and spices to create a drink that’s hearty, restorative, and—most importantly—sellable.
The original name was “Daebi Moju” (“Great Consort Mother’s Wine”), but over time it was shortened to just “Moju.” I guess when you invent the coziest drink ever, you don’t need a fancy title.
How It’s Made
The beauty of Moju is in its simplicity. Traditionally, it’s made using:
Makgeolli or leftover grains (술지게미)
Cinnamon and ginger (the heavy hitters)
Jujubes (Korean dates) for sweetness
Ginseng, kudzu root, and sometimes other medicinal herbs
The mixture is simmered for a full 24 hours. That long, slow boil removes most of the alcohol, leaving you with something that’s warm, smooth, and just a little sweet—like a hug in a cup. Think of it as the PG-rated cousin of makgeolli that you can sip on without worrying about getting too giggly.
Moju in Modern Korea
You’ll find Moju most famously in Jeonju, where it’s often served alongside steaming bowls of Kongnamul Gukbap 콩나물국밥 (bean sprout soup). This pairing is legendary—it’s Korea’s ultimate hangover cure. Imagine waking up after a long night of soju, stumbling into a Jeonju soup shop, and being handed a steaming cup of Moju to soothe your aching body and restless soul.
Fun Fact: In Jeonju, Moju is considered a Haejang-sul 해장술 (hangover liquor), but don’t let the name fool you. With its low alcohol content and medicinal vibe, it’s as close as you can get to drinking a health potion.
Even if you’re not nursing a hangover, Moju is just plain comforting. It tastes like a warm cinnamon hug mixed with the creamy goodness of makgeolli. Some places even serve it cold in the summer with a little ice—surprisingly refreshing!
Make It at Home (or Cheat the Process)
While traditional Moju takes hours to make, modern Koreans have hacked the recipe:
Grab a bottle of makgeolli.
Add cinnamon sticks, fresh ginger, jujubes, and a bit of sugar.
Simmer for about 40 minutes and voilà! Homemade Moju without the 24-hour wait.
For the full Jeonju experience, sip it hot with some bean sprout soup, a side of kimchi, and a hearty appetite.
Moju may not have the international fame of mulled wine or eggnog, but it should. It’s soothing, nostalgic, and tastes like winter should feel—warm, earthy, and just a little indulgent. If you find yourself in Jeonju, don’t leave without trying a cup. Your taste buds—and your hangover—will thank you.
Ginger Ssanghwa-cha (쌍화차): Korea’s Ancient “Power Tea”
I absolutely can’t think of an English equivalent for Ssanghwa-cha. It’s not just tea—it’s a full-on experience. Picture a boiling pot of over twenty medicinal herbs served in a heavy stone cup, bubbling like something straight out of a mad apothecary’s dream. Lurking underneath the surface you’ll often find pine nuts, walnuts, gingko nuts, sesame seeds, and sometimes even a poached egg. Yes, an egg. Before you recoil, let me assure you: it works.
What’s in This Magical Brew?
At its core, Ssanghwa-cha blends:
Baekjakyak 백작약 (white peony root)
Sukjohwang 숙지황 (steamed rehmannia root)
Danggui 당귀 (angelica root)
Cheongung 천궁 (cnidium)
Gaepi 계피 (cinnamon)
Gamcho 감초 (licorice branch)
This isn’t your cozy bedtime chamomile—it’s a bold, complex, herbaceous powerhouse. Sweetened with honey or sugar, it balances bitter roots with a gentle, earthy sweetness that feels like it could resurrect you from a long night of bad decisions.
The Story Behind Ssanghwa-cha
Ssanghwa-cha goes back to the Joseon era, where it was used as a restorative tonic for scholars, workers, and even royals. The name itself means “twin harmony tea”—a nod to its balance of flavors and health benefits. It was designed to restore energy, boost the immune system, and fight fatigue—basically, an ancient Korean Gatorade, but much classier.
My girlfriend and I stumbled upon the perfect Ssanghwa-cha experience during a trip to Jeongeup, North Jeolla Province. The town’s famed Ssanghwa-cha Street felt like a scene from an old Korean drama—tiny teahouses serving this ancient elixir in stone bowls, steam curling gently into the winter air. It was so cozy and atmospheric that I half-expected someone to hand me a quill and tell me to write poetry.
Fun Fact: Ssanghwa-cha was often consumed as a morning tonic to cure exhaustion. Modern-day Koreans still swear by it for fighting colds and recharging the body in winter.
The Ultimate Winter Tea
If you’re tired of peppermint mochas and cinnamon lattes, Ssanghwa-cha is the Korean winter drink you never knew you needed. It’s bold, restorative, and steeped in tradition—literally. It doesn’t just taste like Christmas; it tastes likehundreds of years of history wrapped in a warm, steaming cup.
Pine Needle Tea (Sulip-cha 술잎차): The Drink That Tastes Like a Christmas Tree
There’s something uniquely Christmas-y about Sulip-cha, Korea’s pine needle tea. If I find it on a teahouse menu, I order it immediately. Why? Because it tastes like I’m drinking a Christmas tree. Earthy, woodsy, with a faint whisper of citrus, this humble tea is both invigorating and comforting—like sitting beside a crackling fire after a walk in a pine forest.
Sulip-cha is made by steeping young pine needles, often from Korean red or black pines, in hot water to extract their subtle flavor and nutrients. The result is a brew that carries the sharp, resinous aroma of pine and a mellow, slightly bitter flavor. While it may sound niche or even a bit “too outdoorsy,” pine needle tea has a long history in Korea, rooted in both traditional medicine and rural life.
The History and Health Benefits
Historically, pine needles were praised for their health properties and used in traditional remedies for centuries. Korean ancestors valued pine needles for their ability to:
Boost the immune system
Improve blood circulation
Prevent hypertension and diabetes
Detoxify the body
Enhance vision
Rich in Vitamin C, antioxidants, and natural compounds like flavonoids, sulip-cha was particularly popular in winter to ward off colds and provide a refreshing boost. It was often consumed by rural communities who relied on the surrounding pine forests for survival.
But there’s a catch: Pine needles aren’t something you can just forage and throw into your tea kettle. Modern environmental practices mean that many pine trees are sprayed with pesticides or treated with chemicals to protect them from pests and diseases. Harvesting the wrong needles can be dangerous, so if you’re craving a cup, it’s best to purchase commercially sourced, food-safe pine needle tea.
How to Prepare Sulip-cha
Preparing Sulip-cha is wonderfully simple:
Ingredients: Fresh pine needles or dried pine needles (ensure they are food-safe).
Method: Rinse the pine needles thoroughly. Boil water, then steep the needles for 5–10 minutes until the water turns a gentle golden green.
Optional: Add a drizzle of honey if you like a hint of sweetness to balance the bitterness.
The flavor can be adjusted depending on your preference—steep it longer for a stronger, more resinous tea, or enjoy it lighter for a subtle, almost herbal infusion.
Sujeonggwa (수정과): Korea’s Cinnamon Punch
If Christmas had a flavor, Korea bottled it up centuries ago with this spiced, sweet concoction. It’s what you drink when you’ve indulged in a garlic-heavy Korean feast, cleansing both your breath and your spirit, but let’s be honest—sujeonggwa tastes like pure holiday magic.
Sujeonggwa, often referred to as “cinnamon punch,” is one of Korea’s most iconic traditional beverages. A heady mixture of cinnamon, ginger, and sugar, it’s simmered for hours to infuse warmth and sweetness. The drink is served chilled, with a garnish of dried persimmons (gotgam) and floating pine nuts for that unmistakable finish. One sip, and you’re transported to a festive Korean table filled with steaming jeon (savory pancakes) and laughter.
A Brief History
The earliest record of sujeonggwa comes from the 18th century during King Yeongjo’s reign (1765), when it appeared in the royal Sujag Uigwe, an official record of banquets and ceremonial feasts. The name itself roughly translates to “water-based refined dessert,” but there’s nothing subtle about its flavors. Historically, sujeonggwa was considered a luxury drink for the wealthy. Ingredients like cinnamon and ginger were expensive, as Korea had to import them, while sugar was practically a delicacy in its own right. A bowl of sujeonggwa on a nobleman’s table was as indulgent as serving truffles and caviar today.
By the late Joseon period, sujeonggwa became an integral part of New Year’s feasts and important celebrations. Dried persimmons were added to balance the spiced notes with natural fruity sweetness, creating the perfect harmony.
Making Sujeonggwa
This isn’t your average holiday punch. It requires time and a little bit of love, but the payoff is worth every minute. Here’s how it comes together:
Ingredients:
Cinnamon sticks (around 10 pieces)
Fresh ginger (sliced, about 1 cup)
Sugar (or honey) to taste
Dried persimmons (gotgam), 2-3 for garnish
Pine nuts, a handful for the finishing touch
Method:
Boil cinnamon sticks and ginger in water for about 1–2 hours.
Strain the liquid, discarding the solids.
Add sugar or honey to the warm liquid and stir until dissolved. Chill the drink in the refrigerator.
Before serving, drop in a dried persimmon and sprinkle a few pine nuts on top.
Optional: Serve it in a rustic ceramic cup for that cozy Korean teahouse vibe.
The result is a dark, amber-hued punch that looks like liquid gold. The bold, spiced notes of cinnamon hit first, followed by the earthy warmth of ginger, and the sweetness of persimmon lingers at the end. The floating pine nuts? A final nod to tradition, offering a crunchy contrast and a touch of visual elegance.
The Cultural Experience
In Korean tradition, sujeonggwa often appears after feasts, especially during Seollal (Lunar New Year) and other festive celebrations. Its sweet-spicy profile aids digestion and cleanses the palate after rich, heavy meals—making it both practical and delicious. Koreans have long believed that sujeonggwa also warms the body and wards off colds, which explains its popularity in the winter months.
But it’s not just about function. Sujeonggwa is nostalgia in a cup. It evokes memories of gatherings with family, grandparents spooning the punch into tiny cups, and the taste of dried persimmons softened in cinnamon syrup.
Modern Takes
While traditional sujeonggwa still reigns supreme, it’s seen some modern twists. Cafés now offer it as a spiced holiday drink, served both hot and cold. Some adventurous cooks even add it to desserts, infusing cakes, panna cotta, or shaved ice (bingsu) with sujeonggwa’s unmistakable flavor.
If you’ve never tried sujeonggwa, think of it as Korea’s answer to spiced tea, with its own distinct personality. It’s festive, aromatic, and quintessentially Korean. Pour yourself a glass this winter, sit by the window, and savor the way it warms your soul with its cinnamon-kissed charm.
One thing’s for sure: Sujeonggwa belongs on your Christmas table. It’s Korea’s little gift to the season, and honestly, it’s a crime not to share.e.
Citron Tea (Yuja-cha 유자차): Vitamin C in a Cup
If you’re feeling a little under the weather during the cold winter months, yuja-cha is like a warm hug in a cup. It’s Korea’s answer to orange marmalade stirred into tea—a citrusy, soothing elixir packed with flavor and a punch of Vitamin C. Whether it’s served hot on a frosty day or chilled for a refreshing pick-me-up, yuja-cha is a Korean winter staple that feels both comforting and luxurious.
A Sweet and Tangy Tradition
Yuja-cha has been enjoyed in Korea for centuries. The tea is made by mixing yuja-cheong (a thick, honey-sweetened citron syrup) with warm water. Yuja, the Korean name for citron, is a bumpy, lemon-like fruit that grows throughout the southern regions of Korea, most notably in Goheung and Geoje. Citron itself has an intense, sweet-tart flavor, like a mix of lemon, grapefruit, and sunshine, making it the perfect fruit to transform into a warming tea.
Yuja-cha has been loved for generations not just for its taste but for its practical health benefits. Rich in Vitamin C, it’s a common remedy for sore throats, colds, and winter fatigue. In fact, giving someone a jar of yuja-cheong is one of Korea’s classic expressions of care, a subtle way of saying, “Take care of yourself.”
Making Yuja-cha: Sweet Simplicity
The beauty of yuja-cha is its simplicity. You only need two ingredients: yuja and sweetener (sugar or honey). The preparation involves slicing the yuja into thin strips—rind, pulp, and all—and preserving it in sugar or honey until it becomes a thick, syrupy marmalade. But really, you can just buy the jammy stuff at the Korean or Asian market.
To make the tea, simply:
Scoop a spoonful (or two) of yuja-cheong into a cup.
Add warm water (not boiling hot—you don’t want to destroy that precious Vitamin C).
Stir, sip, and let the soothing citrus magic do its thing.
You can also enjoy it cold by mixing the syrup with sparkling water for a refreshing yuja-ade—perfect for when you want something bubbly and bright.
A Winter Staple With a Bit of Luxury
Yuja-cha’s story is rooted in practicality, but its flavor feels like a bit of winter luxury. Traditionally, the process of making yuja-cheong was a labor of love, as yuja is an incredibly fragrant but stubborn fruit to work with. The rind is thick, the flesh has a bittersweet edge, and the seeds are numerous. However, when transformed into a sweet, sticky syrup, it becomes a versatile treat that lasts all season.
In Korea, a jar of high-quality yuja-cheong is treasured in winter pantries. It’s not just for tea—you can slather it on toast like marmalade, drizzle it over yogurt, or even bake it into cakes and cookies for a citrusy twist.
The Gift of Yuja
In Korean culture, gifting a jar of yuja-cheong is a loving gesture. It’s what your mom gives you when she notices you coughing, or what friends send to one another during the cold months. Historically, yuja was even reserved for the elite due to its rarity, and the syrup was cherished as both a delicacy and a form of medicine.
Yuja-cha’s reputation for curing colds has been handed down through generations. However, while it won’t replace your doctor’s advice, it’s still the perfect thing to sip when you’re feeling run-down. And hey, it’s a far more pleasant remedy than a spoonful of cough syrup.
Modern Twists and Global Fame
Thanks to Korea’s culinary influence, yuja-cha has gained popularity beyond its borders. Cafés around the world now serve it as “citron tea” or “Korean honey citrus tea,” often paired with trendy Korean snacks. If you’ve wandered into a Korean grocery store or Asian market, chances are you’ve seen jars of yuja-cheong stacked like golden treasure.
In Japan and China, yuja is called yuzu and often takes on similar uses. However, Korea’s yuja-cha stands apart with its unapologetically chunky texture, sweet-tart flavor, and deep ties to winter tradition.
So here’s my take: if you’re cold, tired, or just need a little citrusy sunshine in your life, make yourself a cup of yuja-cha. It’s cozy, nostalgic, and just the right mix of sweet and tangy to brighten up even the gloomiest winter day.
And if you’re feeling fancy, try a yuja spritzer with sparkling water or even a yuja cocktail with a splash of soju. You didn’t hear it from me, but yuja and booze are fantastic friends.
Conclusion: Bring Korean Drinks to Your Holiday Table
From the spiced warmth of Moju to the festive tang of Yuja-cha, these Korean Christmas drinks are perfect for cozying up during the holidays. They may not have Santa’s seal of approval, but they’ll definitely bring some holiday magic to your table.
Whether you’re looking for Christmas drink ideas to pair with a holiday meal or simply want to add a new twist to your traditions, these drinks will make your holidays unforgettable. So, pour yourself a warm cup and toast to a season filled with good cheer—and great flavor.
Looking for the perfect holiday gift for the Korean food lover or culture enthusiast in your life? Whether they’re obsessed with kimchi jjigae, exploring Korean traditions, or crafting their own bibimbap, this guide has you covered. Here’s the ultimate 2024 holiday gift guide for Korean-inspired gifts, all conveniently available on Amazon. Bonus: by shopping through our affiliate links, you’re helping support our blog while ticking off your holiday list!
For the Korean Food Enthusiast
1. Voohek Korean BBQ Raclette Grill: Your All-in-One Indoor Grilling Solution
Looking for the ultimate Korean BBQ experience at home? The Voohek Korean BBQ Raclette Grill combines a non-stick grill plate and a natural cooking stone for perfectly seared meats, veggies, and more. With 1300W of power, it heats quickly to 500℉, making it easy to whip up a feast in minutes. The 8 raclette pans and wooden spatulas make it perfect for hosting, letting everyone cook their favorites—from steak and seafood to melted cheese and butter. Versatile enough for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, this smokeless indoor grill is easy to clean and store, making it a must-have for foodies and families alike. Check it out on Amazon →
2. K-Food: Korean Home Cooking and Street Food by Da-Hae and Gareth West
Discover Korean cuisine through this vibrant and approachable cookbook. This cookbook features a blend of traditional Korean recipes and fun modern twists. Plus, it includes one of my own recipes! A perfect gift for home cooks and foodies alike. Grab the book here →
Elevate your dining experience with Hagary Dragon Chopsticks, designed in Korea and crafted from 316 surgical-grade stainless steel for unparalleled durability and hygiene. These reusable chopsticks are non-slip, thanks to their textured tips, making it easy to grip everything from sushi rolls to Korean BBQ. The laser-etched dragon design adds a touch of royalty to your table, and their dishwasher-safe, rust-resistant construction ensures they’ll last for years. Perfectly weighted and beautifully packaged, these chopsticks make an excellent gift for foodies, newlyweds, or anyone who loves Asian cuisine. Shop the set →
4. DAGAON Finest Korean Snack Box
Discover the ultimate assortment of Korean snacks with the DAGAON Korean Snack Box, featuring 42 individually wrapped treats from top brands like Lotte, Orion, and Crown. This curated collection includes a mix of chips, cookies, pies, candies, noodles, coffee, tea, and more—perfect for sampling the best of Korea’s snacking culture. Whether it’s for gifting, parties, care packages, or just treating yourself, this snack box is ideal for any occasion. Packed with variety and flavor, it’s a surefire hit for friends, family, coworkers, or anyone craving a taste of Korea. Get a snack box here →
5. Ramen Pot with Chopsticks, Spoon & Bowl Set: The Ultimate Ramen Lover’s Companion
Make instant noodles an art form. Perfect for quick, delicious meals, this Ramen Pot Set comes with everything you need: a 1Qt Korean-style ramen pot, chopsticks, a spoon, and a bowl. Inspired by authentic Korean cuisine, this portable ramen cooker is ideal for dorms, small kitchens, or on-the-go dining. The pot’s compact size is perfect for single servings or meals for two, whether you’re making noodles, soups, or steamed eggs. The unbreakable bowl doubles as a serving dish for snacks, oatmeal, or salads, but remember: it’s not microwave-safe. Easy to clean and versatile, this set is a must-have for students, busy professionals, and anyone who loves quick, satisfying meals. See it here →
For the Korean Culture Lover
6. Hanbok-Inspired Accessories
Celebrate Korean heritage with modern elegance. From hanbok-patterned scarves to traditional-style jewelry, these gifts add a touch of Korea to anyone’s wardrobe. Find hanbok accessories →
7. The Dark Side of Seoul: Weird Tales from Korean Lore Comics
Immerse yourself in Korean horror. These comics are fun doorways into Korean folklore. You can order the digital or physical copies. Note that the physical copy takes around three weeks or so to ship from Korea. Get the comic →
8. Calligraphy Set
Explore the artistry of Korean Hangeul writing. A brush and ink set makes a unique gift for creative types interested in Korean culture. Pair it with a beginner’s guide for an even more thoughtful present. NOTE: Chinese calligraphy sets work as well. Shop calligraphy kits →
9. K-Drama and K-Pop Merch
Perfect for the ultimate Hallyu fan. Whether it’s BTS-inspired hoodies or Goblin-themed mugs, there’s no shortage of K-drama and K-pop gifts to choose from. Browse fan merch →
10. Korean Language Learning Tools
The gift of speaking Korean. Books like “Talk to Me in Korean” or language flashcards are ideal for anyone dreaming of learning Korean. Combine this with a subscription to online classes for the ultimate gift. Explore language tools →
Perfect for sizzling bibimbap. A Korean stone bowl turns rice and veggies into a restaurant-quality dish. Bonus: it’s great for stews too. Find stone bowls →
14. Jang: The Soul of Korean Cooking
Master the art of Korean sauces and pastes For the ultimate DIY cook, how about making authentic Korean jang (pastes and sauces) at home? Named a Best New Cookbook of Spring 2024 by Eater and Epicurious Grab the book →
15. Korean Drinking Set
Drink like a Korean. For the makgeolli and soju parties! If you’re going to indulge in some Korean rice beer and soju, you gotta pour it and drink it out of the right vessels. Check it out →
For the Tea and Wellness Lover
16. Korean Tea Sampler
Experience the subtle beauty of Korean teas. OSOLLUC from Jeju Island makes some of the best premium teas in Korea. This is a must-have for any tea enthusiast. Check it out →
17. Ginseng Supplements
Boost their health with a Korean superfood. Korean red ginseng, known for its immunity-boosting and energy-enhancing properties, is a thoughtful and practical gift. Shop ginseng gifts →
Wrap It All Up
This holiday season, celebrate the joy of Korean food and culture with these thoughtful gifts. From cookbooks like K-Food (featuring one of my recipes!) to the sweet, savory treats of a snack box, there’s something for everyone on this list. And remember, shopping through our links helps support the blog—so thank you for sharing the love!
Even though American football hasn’t caught on in Korea the way baseball has, it does have its share of manly man foods that would be at home at a Superbowl party. Fiery BulDalk, Soondae Bokkeum, JokBal–those would work well. I don’t have recipes for those yet, and I won’t rehash my infamous Deep Fried Beer (oh, I guess I just did). But we do have an ample set of game day recipes with a Korean touch for some extra spice and flavor at your Superbowl festivities.
And you know a simple way to add a touch of Korea to any game party or any type of party? Lay out your veggie platter and add ssamjang (the stuff in the green tub) and doenjang (the brown tub stuff) as dips. You can even make a faux gochujang aioli by mixing a creamy mayo (Korean Ottogi brand works best) with garlic, lemon, and gochujang (the red tub stuff). Zesty!
This is one of my favorite things to eat when my wife isn’t home. The gochujang gives them a deeper taste than traditional hot sauce, along with a lingering heat to help stave off that snowpocalypse.
Before the Ko-Mex craze hit America, I posted this little recipe, and people thought I was crazy. Well, maybe they’re right, but I was also right about how good this was.
This is one of the first recipes we posted on the ZKFJ. Shrimp is cooked on a bed of hot salt, making the shells so crispy you don’t need to peel them.
For years, the Grand Hilton Seoul has been hosting a full-on Oktoberfest. Each year I had been meaning to go. Usually I’ve missed it because I didn’t find out about it in time and had other plans. The steep price tag (W140,000) also kept me away. This year, I was determined to go. I signed up early, earning me a small discount. I then went about my business. Then I saw a post on Facebook from Hilton GM (the legendary) Ashley Cheeseman saying that he was picking the Oktoberfest band up at the airport.
It’s this weekend?
On Saturday, I made my way up to the Grand Hilton. It was my first time there. It’s in northwest Seoul and a bit out of the way. Not Walkerhill out of the way. The trick is to make your way to Seoul Station and grab the 7021 bus. It’s the fastest public transportation route.
With my ticket, I got a large gingerbread heart that you can wear around your neck like the Tin Man. I also got a pair of Oktoberfest beer stein sunglasses. I was assigned table 10, where a couple of my friends were sitting. They have been doing this for a while. I sat down. Said HI. Oooh! Pretzels!
STARVING! Got up to get my food and beer. The strap on my camera broke for the first time ever, so I was flustered. A lot of my pics of the buffet didn’t turn out. But as I’ve said before, buffet pics never turn out well.
The buffet was way, way, way better than the pictures show. I lived in Germany in the early ’90s, and I dare say that I miss the food. Korean food has some similarities in the fermentation department. But it isn’t a match for German food’s heft. This is food designed for beer. Huge tracts of roast beef (not common in Korea), pork, Sauerkraut, my beloved Spätzle, Wurst, a large variety of what we would call cold cuts, tangy beet salad, creamy mushroom gravy, pigs’ feet braised in beer, buttery bread dumplings, and the desserts–STRUDEL!!
I knew I could just pace myself and come back for more at any time. Aberich habe Hunger! The plate was heavy. Besides, German food lends itself to the Thanksgiving treatment of throwing everything together on a plate and smothering it in gravy. G-r-r-r-a-a-a-a-vy!
I ate two full plates like that plus a plate of desserts. There wasn’t much room left for the beer.
There were a few choices for beverages. Paulaner had a Heffeweizen and an Oktoberfest on tap. Beck’s had some bottles. Jäger made an appearance. There was also an Apple Schnapps I’d never tried called Berentzen. One of the guys from the company gave us a complimentary chilled bottle. This was the smoothest Schnapps I’ve ever had. Hardly any detection of alcohol. As my German friend Dirk said, “It’s apple juice.”
Click for larger version
Things started picking up. The band paraded in. Speeches were given. A keg was tapped. And Oktoberfest was officially on.
https://vine.co/v/hJPEbxJmWW5
I should note that despite what many of you would say in the comments is a steep price, I didn’t see any empty seats in the great hall.
The old guy was a horny old hoot!
The singer energizing the crowd
https://vine.co/v/hJxrlagtxvD
As with my memories of Bier and Wein Fests in Germany, the band kept the spirits going. Beer makes polka sound metal.
Games ensued, including “feats of strength.” It started with an arm wrestling competition. Then a hammer and nail competition. Then a beer drinking competition. There were men’s and women’s contests for each. There was also a raffle that offered some stellar prizes (tickets on Lufthansa to Germany). At one point, the German ambassador joined the band on stage and played some tunes on his accordion.
Then the dance floor got crowded and jumpin’.
I think this song involved shoes
German ambassador breaking a sweat
I don’t know about you, but I had a great time. All that starchy, protein-laden food with beer was making me sleepy. I overdid the food. Kept it down this time, which is better than I could say for when I did this at 18 years old.
The Game of Thrones Pop-up Restaurant happened last night at Magpie Brewing Company, and it was a success. Thanks all of you who turned out for the event. As you saw, I was extremely busy the entire time either cooking or cleaning. Wish I had more time. But it seems like the food was enjoyed, considering how little we had to take home 😉
Now for nerding out. Here’s how this whole thing went down. A few months ago, before the beginning of the new Game of Thrones season, I joked on Facebook how fun it would be to do a Game of Thrones pop-up. A few minutes later, I got a message from Jason Lindley at Magpie saying that he’d set it up–calling my bluff.
We originally had planned it to go with the beginning of the season, but I had just returned from the Philippines and had not time to plan and shop. So we scheduled it to coincide with the final episode. Even then, it was hard for me to plan much. But when crunch time came, I broke down the menu, set up shopping lists, contacted folks to help, and laid out a schedule. We placed orders with Authentic Meats (the High Street Market folks) and The Baker’s Table. June Chang helped me shop and transport groceries from Costco. I did more shopping at the bakery market by Euljiro 4-ga, Foreign Food Market, Home Plus, and Costco. I also carried the major meats on my back, including two legs of lamb and two pork shoulders, from High Street Market to Magpie. In the meantime, I was transporting equipment and serving ware from my home in Anyang to Seoul via subway. The morning of the feast, I lugged a heavy suitcase filled with equipment, platters, and ducks.
With each dish (except one I forgot) I made name placards that included what house/location they were associated with and a passage/anecdote from the book where it comes from. Most of the food was meant to compliment the beer.
This was the easiest one to set up. When signing in, guests partake in eating bread and salt to secure guest rights. Television viewers may recall that Robb Stark did this at the beginning of the fateful ninth episode of season three. The original plan was to bake all the bread, but we had so many dishes, along with a really great bakery next door (Baker’s Table), that I included a few loaves of German bread in our order.
The Baker’s Table supplied us with the shells. I used some frozen berry mixes with sugar, star anise, and fresh lemon juice for the filling. We had a tough time getting the filling to set, which delayed us a bit.
If you’re going to have a Game of Thrones event, you gotta have the famous Lemon Cakes that Sansa adored so much. This recipe I got from Inn at the Crossroads, and it’s a great one.
I was warned. Expats love hummus. I made the hummus at home the night before. Actually, I started soaking the chickpeas two nights before. We added the lemon juice the day of the event. One of the themes I had for this event was to have food that was somewhat familiar with flavors that jarred your preconceptions. In the hummus, I used Spanish smoked paprika to set it off a bit. The giant capers I stumbled upon at the Foreign Food Market. The bread was from Baker’s Table. The olives are some of the things I’ve been loving. E-Mart has these olives stuffed with bacon, feta cheese, and almonds (separately). So that also surprised diners.
This was the big one. You won’t believe how hard it is to find arrows. I was freaking out about it for weeks, asking around. Then it occurred to me–In Insa-dong they sell lots of children’s toy arrows with suction cups on them. I bought a couple of them on the way to the office, snipped off the suction cups, and stylized the rubber feathers to make them look more feathery. The first lamb was encrusted with juniper berries, star anise, coriander, and I don’t remember. The second lamb had more traditional herbs, like rosemary, with lemons stuffed in the cracks. The lone casualty of the dinner was my hand blender. It burned out from blending so many spices, which it’s not designed to do.
We needed vegetables! It’s hard to find veggie dishes in The Song of Ice and Fire. The Spiced Squash was easy to prepare. The dominant spices were cardamom and coriander. The squashes themselves were hard to cut, so I figured I’d roast them and then deal with them. Unfortunately, their shells got rock hard in the oven. So I had to cut each piece away and chop it up.
I don’t have pictures of everything. If anyone else has pics, I’d love to see them. We couldn’t get any actual boar for this one. But as Linus Kim told me, there ain’t much different between boar and pork. We made a small bending of imagination for this one. I got some pork shoulder and slapped that mother down with yuja cha and fresh basil. Roasted it along with the duck.
Was kinda proud of this one. It’s a simple roasted duck with honey. But the throw-off was that I used this special Thyme Honey from New Zealand. It’s a honey that makes you do a double take.
Onion Broth with Goat and Carrot
This was a very popular soup. (PHEW!) I’d never cooked with goat before. It was a basic stew with roasted bone beef broth (we roasted the bones first thing that morning) and Magpie’s Porter. It just cooked and reduced all day. The goat I got from the Foreign Food Market.
This also was an easy one. With that roasted beef bone stock, I added beef stew meat, onions, carrots. At the end, we added barley and leeks. The flavorings were from Scarborough Fair lyrics.
Chanju prepping the salad
Originally called “Sansa Salad,” we were planning to have edible flowers and pomegranates. But while shopping, I changed my mind a lot based on what was available. I stewed some prunes in red wine and bokbunja (Korean raspberry wine) the night before, a take on ancient Roman cuisine. The salad was basic greens with fresh herbs thrown in, including mint, cilantro, and dill. The dressing was a yuja cha vinaigrette. This dish was slaughtered. I should have made more.
The idea I got from Inn at the Crossroads. For the filling, I was hoping to get some blood that’s used in Haejangguk. My local Home Plus had been selling it–until I NEEDED IT!! So I made do with spicy flavored soondae mixed with ground beef. For the flavorings, I leaned on curry and Jamaican ideas with lots and lots of black pepper. June turned out to be much more adept at folding the pies than me. So she and Chanju took this one over. Served it with mango chutney from the Foreign Food Market.
Again, I plan for something, and then the stores that carry this ingredient no longer carry it. For years, E-Mart has been carrying goat milk. I’ve been making goat cheese with it. I was planning to stuff the peppers with goat cheese. No luck finding the milk anywhere. But I had an idea while shopping. Mix some feta cheese with sour cream and butter-sauteed onions and chill it. Oh my! This was my favorite dish of the entire evening. I could eat those all freakin’ day!
How to make butter-sauteed mushrooms more decadent? Add more butter! You know those blocks of butter that are the equivalent of four sticks? I used one and a half of them with oyster, shiitake, and portabello mushrooms. Threw in some tarragon. That was my final dish of the night, and I was exhausted. Nothing but cleaning left.
I’m still wrapping my brain around everything. Magpie was super cool with it all. I also got to try mead for the first time. Strong stuff, but I liked it.
Many thanks go to Simon for helping me cook all day and all night. June and Chanju for swooping in at the right moment to do the rest. Jason and Lydia at Magpie for hosting such a great evening. Linus and Kip for hooking me up with some ingredients. And thank you to all that arrived. Wow!
Christina called me over to her half-basement apartment for Thanksgiving. This was my first year in Korea, 2004. She and Glen held this each year for expats and any Koreans who wanted to attend this exotic holiday with the mythical turkey beast—a foreign flightless bird not seen in a Korean refrigerator case. For a time, more turkeys existed in the Seoul Zoo than in supermarkets.
The quest for Thanksgiving is a rabid one in these parts. Expats are so culturally alienated that they cling to anything that reeks of home. Holidays are celebrated with more gusto than they were at home. Americans experience the Korean version of Thanksgiving, Chuseok.
No, they don’t because they don’t get invited to Koreans’ houses for it, and many take this time off to visit Southeast Asia.
Then Canada Day comes around—Oooh, Canadian Thanksgiving! Three Thanksgivings in one season. Yet Canadians are too nice and wait for the American one.
Soon after trying in vain to bring Halloween to Korea each year, the American and Canadian expat turns into a zombie-vampire on the hunt for turkey. They can’t explain why they want this particular poultry so badly. They just need it.
Networks were tapped. Information was passed along. Where could one get a turkey? Did anyone have a U.S. Army base connection? Did any of the foreign markets have any? Would anyone dare to get one from the black market in Namdaemun?
Am I the only one who thinks it’s strange that South Korea has a black market for foreign food? #protectionism
If one was able to get a turkey the next challenge was finding a person with an oven. Korean cuisine doesn’t use ovens. Since most non-military American expats are English teachers living in tiny dingy apartments supplied by their employers, they don’t have ovens either. The person with the oven becomes the most popular member of the community. One enterprising friend cooked an entire turkey using a toaster oven.
Hostess Christina
Christina & Glen’s Thanksgivings
Christina and Glen were longtime expats by the time I arrived. They had a robust network of friends willing to show for Thanksgiving. They had two turkeys, some basic sides, and an open bar. They only requested people bring supplemental alcohol and maybe some desserts. The second most popular people in Korea are the ones with the Costco memberships. They’re the ones who supply the pies and cookies.
The refrigerator and coolers are stocked with pitcher-sized Korean beer bottles, green bottles of soju, vodka, some gin, some whiskey. Maybe some connoisseurs brought some wine or imported beers. They were generous or foolish because those would be the first liquids to disappear.
I think Christina and Glen knew from experience to discourage the bringing of side dishes. I’ve done the expat potluck before. And without a lot of coordination, you end up with five giant bowls of mashed potatoes of varying lumpiness.
As long as there’s a bucket of butter
Turkey & Kimchi
The sociological interest comes when the Koreans show up. Either they’re attached romantically to an expat guest, a co-worker of the host, or a friend of the host. Sometimes a whole family will show up, likely because the progressively thinking father thought it would be a good cultural experience for the children, and the mother thought it would help the children’s English. The expats want the Koreans to understand why they so passionately love this holiday. They want the Koreans to wax poetic over the turkey and the glories of Western culture that would mandate such a feast.
Then we get a little self conscious. All this food is variations on beige. It’s heavy. It’s soft and lacks textural variety. It’s crowded sloppily on plates and looks like something the dog threw up—if we didn’t crave it so much. Turkey tastes like chicken the same way many exotic meats taste like chicken.
Glen finally sitting down to enjoy his meal
Even with the newfound epiphanies of how our traditions look to others, we get sorely offended when Koreans start piling kimchi on their plates. It’s like being invited to a Korean family’s celebration of Chuseok and ordering a pizza.
Can’t we just go one meal without the kimchi?
Diplomacy wins over, and some of us start agreeing that kimchi goes well with turkey. We overlook this routine cultural faux pas.
We chat with old and new friends, our slapped-together families in Korea. And then we drunkenly thank the hosts and leave—in one sudden wave.
Post-turkey conversation and lazing
The Rough Old Days
This was how I celebrated Thanksgiving my first few years. Others were willing to pay for expensive hotel buffets. To me, that’s like paying for sex. You get the biological need taken care of but not the emotional one. Since Korea didn’t recognize American Thanksgiving—why should it—we all had to work.
Thanksgiving kept fading away for me. Thanksgiving dinners devolved into going out for some smoked turkey BBQ and beers at a local Korean joint. Even that stopped. Christina and Glen broke up and moved away years ago. Most of my friends in Anyang are gone. I’m not in the mood to make more friends who will just leave in a year. I have my own Korean family now—and my wife hates turkey.
Thanksgiving Isn’t Given. You Make It.
I find it odd and amusing to see Americans back home treating Thanksgiving as if the whole world celebrates it. It’s such a big freakin’ deal. All the food blogs and magazines promote their Thanskgiving recipes—as if there are that many more variations left. Hipsters and cynics complain about being around their families, especially the brother-in-law who feels like it’s a good time to test the loud theories he has on what’s wrong with the world—theories he got verbatim from political talk radio.
The expat has no opportunity to be with family. It’s when this family is not available, when these traditions require a lot—a shitload lot—more work and creativity that the expat learns to truly be grateful. Things the expat never paid much mind to, even scoffed at, become suddenly precious.
As Thanksgivings pass, the bullshit fades. The turkey, the cranberry sauce, the football. The expat has been away from these things for so long that these are just layers of chocolate coating. The center is that feeling of family and belonging. The expat gets it.
I have no plans this year (2012) for Thanksgiving, even though turkeys and turkey dinners are more plentiful. Christmas has become my big holiday, and I started getting into that the day after Halloween. I don’t care. The expat has to create his own culture around him from scratch, so I choose to start Christmas early so I can savor its short life in the year. This year, though, we’ll be traveling to America for the big holiday. I haven’t been in America for Christmas in almost a decade, and my little family has never been to America. This will be a big deal.
So this Thanksgiving, I likely will catch a bit of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade streaming live—in the evening–or watch a bit torrent I downloaded in 2010. Likely I’ll be busy packing Korean ramen and getting my family to score some kimchi in America so my wife can have some with her turkey.
UPDATE NOVEMBER 2017
It’s been a few years since I’ve posted this. The kernel came from a friend who was, at the time, an editor at BonAppetit.com. When I pitched this idea to him, he felt it was too bleak for Bon Appetit, but he encouraged me to post it anyway.
Things have gotten better.
It’s easy to get a turkey these days at Costco, as long as you do it in October. Most every western-styled restaurant has a Thanksgiving event. I am still of the solvency that a restaurant Thanksgiving is like paying for sex. The trick is, how good is the sex you’re paying for.
I still miss Christina and Glen. They were the rocks I clung to in my early years. They have each gone to better futures.
The past couple of years, I have celebrated Thanksgiving with Korean/American neighbors. As I mentioned in my post, we’re a little more hardcore about it. We all have children with mixed backgrounds. We want them to immerse themselves in Korean culture while dipping their toes into our endemic cultures.
The past two years, the turkey has been good. But really the food hasn’t been the priority. It’s been the family. We truly create family wherever we go. It’s so cliche, but I’m thankful for them. I play the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade on YouTube. No one pays attention but the Americans, but it’s fun in its monotony. “SpongeBob’s balloon is coming!”
I’ll admit that I feel an advantage over my biological family. The group I celebrate with comes from various backgrounds. We had a Louisiana gumbo and a Canadian maple glazed turkey. How FREAKING awesome is that?
The discussion wasn’t over Trump but over apartment prices, which is the top concern in Korea. (not North Korea, asswipes)
It’s been good. I love this family we’ve created. We had an American-Canadian-Korean Thanksgiving this year. No kimchi, but there were Chuseok style skewers. Quite welcome, because THEY’RE AWESOME. The biggest controversy in our Thanksgiving was whether you’d eat your skewer like corn on the cob or deep throat it.
And as a joke, I gave the kids popcorn as hors d’oeuvres as a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.
THE POINT IS
Korea has gotten a shit ton better in the few years since I wrote this. I sorta miss the scrappy days, but no–not so much. Christina had an actual mountain spring water source coming from a rubber tube. That was cool. I miss her. I miss that time. I miss the scrappiness of the people. These days expats in Korea are WAY too entitled. They don’t appreciate what their forebears bore to establish this firmament of Thanksgiving. They whine. They rant.
But they were never here back then.
Please folks. This was the point of this whole post. It’s about BEING THANKFUL.
I love what this amazing country has given me. I love how much it has changed. I love the revolving door of friends that have entered and exited my life. You have all have made me who I am. It’s an epic tale.
The success of the Korea Cafe Fair, held in the tail end of winter the past two years, seems to have motivated the COEX convention center to start organizing their own effort, the Seoul Coffee Expo. I, on behalf of ZenKimchi, was on hand for the first annual expo.
The booth teaching people to make their own coffee bean blends was a pretty brilliant concept.
“Why fix what isn’t broken” seemed to be the mantra for the expo organizers, as it was remarkably similar in format and even layout to the Cafe Fairs of the past. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing though, as the Cafe Fair is generally a Mecca-like experience for Korea’s coffee lovers.
Make no mistake, the point of the Coffee Expo (and the Cafe Fair as well) is making business deals. As such, the expo is closed to the public the first two days of the event. Then on Saturday and Sunday the floodgates are opened to the general public.
Inside is a veritable who’s who of Korea’s coffee industry. Various coffee supply resellers are there and, although ‘officially’ there is not supposed to be any sales going on on the floor of the convention, there are plenty of places to find a great deal on whatever you’re in the market for. Personally, I picked up a lovely IMEX home coffee roaster that I’ve been getting a lot of use out of ever sense at a substantially discounted price from anywhere I’d seen online.
For those not ready to delve into the world of home roasting, you’ll find your standard pour over (hand drip) supplies, beans, thermometers, coffee mugs, etc, etc. This year I saw the Aeropress (what I use for my daily morning coffee) being sold at a few different booths and I even saw a Clever coffee brewer (a tweak on traditional pour over coffee that is, by most accounts, far easier to get right). I never saw a Chemex, however, which is something I was on the lookout for.
One of the more interesting booths was a collection of antique coffee supplies
Yes, there are good deals to be found, but the main reason for going isn’t to save a few bucks. No, the main reason to go is to save A LOT of bucks by indulging on all the free coffee and espresso samples that you can handle.
I highly advise anyone attending one of these future expos to stick to the espresso samples for two reasons:
You’ll get a full serving, usually served in a demitasse, allowing for the full aesthetic experience of the espresso, rather than sipping from a paper cup.
Espresso has less caffeine.
If you have tried espresso in the past and didn’t like it, so you haven’t felt like spending money on it to try it since, now’s your chance to try some high quality espresso made by people that really know what they’re doing.
Indeed, my pick for the top espresso of the expo came from the same place as my pick for the Cafe Fair, made from 49th Parallel beans by Cafe Sedona (Just happens to be permanently located in the COEX complex):
Notice the near-perfect extraction, characterized by the depth of color and presence of 'tiger stripes'. Sorry for slightly out-of-focus pic.
While the Cafe Fair in the winter was bigger and had more places giving samples (including teas and juices, by the way), the crowd for the the Coffee Fair was much smaller and easier to navigate (although I attended on a business day, so I can’t speak to the days it was open to the public).
Although the Coffee Expo isn’t exactly breaking new ground, it’s a winning formula and gives Korea’s coffee lovers two chances a year to enjoy the festivities. With deep discounts on accessories available and the ability to drink coffee until it’s coming out of your ears, it’s a can’t-miss event for any coffee drinker in Korea.
Time to start. The onions need to be pickled enough ahead of time. This pork belly dish I make has always gone perfectly with EJ’s soy pickled onions. So I got to work in prepping them. EJ just stepped in and took over the whole thing in two large batches.
WEDNESDAY
Garak Market map
We’ve been getting all set up for the pop-up restaurant–Seoul’s first one of its kind. It’s funny that no matter how much planning you do you still feel unprepared. We went to Garak Market to pick up most of our main ingredients. This place is super huge! I bet it’s bigger than Disneyland but less organized and navigation friendly. It took me an hour and a half just to orient myself. We spent a total of four hours at the market and came out with bags of groceries, including 4 kg of onions and 9 kg of pork belly.
THURSDAY
There were still quite a few items we needed, so I went to the Yongsan E-Mart to get those. I bought every single sprig of cilantro they had in stock. We were originally planning to make candied ginseng to garnish the makkolli cheese tarts, but it was either too hard to find or too expensive. I stumbled upon some deodeok root on sale and suggested it to Sarah. We decided to try making candied ginger and deodeok to see which one worked. I carried five full bags of groceries out the door, across the plaza, and into a taxi.
We started cooking. Kyotofu was kind enough to lend us their kitchen after 4 p.m. We started off with the pork belly and quail eggs. Peeled a ton of ginger. The challenge with the pork belly was to butcher it so that it was manageable but also even so that we could easily portion it later. I had never worked with this much meat at one time.
I browned the meat in a big stock pot and got my first grease burn on my arm. We then sweated the aromatics (onion, ginger, garlic) and added brown sugar to caramelize. I then returned the meat to the mixture and rolled it around.
Did I mention that it was a lot of meat?
I then added the liquids, leeks, and radish. Covered with foil, and we braised it for three hours.
We then got to work on the quail eggs. We were doing a variation of jang jorim, soy briased quail eggs, but in the fashion of Chinese tea eggs, which have this beautiful marbled texture. I’d experiment with this, and it worked on chicken eggs. I was nervous that quail eggs would have some property that would make it not work.
So we first boiled the eggs then make lots of tiny cracks with spoons. We returned the eggs to the pot with the braising liquid, which included soy sauce, brown sugar, star anise, cinnamon, and tea bags. Let that simmer for a few hours.
In the meantime, we had some potatoes baking. We peeled them, and I usually rice them by passing them through a metal mesh colander. But these were just not cooperating. Sarah proposed doing them in the blender. I was worried about messing with the texture, so we experimented.
The goal was to make a hybrid of potato gnocchi and sujebi (Korean dumplings). I had tested this at home, and it worked. But when we made our first experiment, the texture was too mushy. We then changed the concept of the dish to make it more like sujebi than gnocchi, which meant using more flour and kneading the dough much more to bring out the glutens and increase its chewiness. We boiled a few, and we liked the results.
The pork belly had about finished, and we tried it. It was okay but could be better. In the past, I have oversalted this dish. This time it wasn’t salty enough. So we decided to work on it some more the next day. In the meantime, we had to transfer it to another container that would fit in the refrigerator. This was a challenge because the pork belly was so soft it would easily fall apart from its own weight. We needed it intact for serving.
FRIDAY
The past few days have also seen some jockeying around with the reservation list. We’ve had a big waiting list, and we ended up with a few cancellations, so everything worked out. But it still involved some logistics to make sure everyone had the info she needed.
I arrived at the kitchen, and Sarah had already done much of the hard work–peeling the eggs and potatoes. She got started on peeling the deodeok. Next time I’ll suggest dishes that require a little less tedious prep.
We went through a few iterations to get the candied deodeok the way we wanted it. I put the pork back on the stove and reworked the flavorings. Got it perfect! I then started the soju sauce. That was pretty easy. I had done this one a lot of times. When that finished, I put on the shrimp with two bags of Zatarain’s Crab Boil–my last in stock. Doing so was like chemical warfare, and the kitchen was difficult to breathe in for a good bit. I quickly worked to get six kilos of shrimp boiled and iced.
We went down the prep list we meticulously planned. Towards the end of the evening, one thing was blaring at us–Cilantro Kimchi. This was the one dish that I had not experimented with ahead of time. So we worked together to come up with the right flavors. Sarah really did it. The secret, we found, was using a lot of maesil ek (plum extract). And we figured we’d have to make it right before serving or the cilantro would wilt.
In the meantime, I was dealing with this mountain of dough that had to be made into sujebi. I tried different methods to make the work faster. Yet I just had to put on my ajumma hat and think how the women who do this every day would make it. When we had enough room on the stove, I had two large pots boiling with salt, two metal bowls with ice baths, and two bowls for draining. Sarah had already portioned the dough into flat triangles. I floured up my hands, and using my thumb and middle finger, flung little dumplings off the triangle one by one into the water. I got up some speed after a while. It was a good few hours of doing this. But we did it! The clean up was pretty heavy after that. Looked like a bag of flour had exploded.
SATURDAY
It rained all day Saturday. That got me filled with dread. There were a couple of last minute cancellations and additions. I arrived at the kitchen at two o’clock. We had to put together the blueberries on the tarts and carefully wrap them.
Sarah’s boyfriend Paul showed up with his car. We had everything out and accounted for. I double checked with the lists we made. We also made sure we had all the equipment we needed to use at the restaurant. My big fear was that the big pot of pork would get knocked over in transit. But it fit securely. Sarah and I each held a tray of tarts during the ride.
We arrived at the cafe early, but it helped us get our thoughts together. The time went by quickly. The volunteers started showing up. This was when Sarah was in her zone. She immediately and efficiently trained them, and they all set to work. My job was to get the kitchen prepped, which really didn’t require too much. I had to figure out how much time it took to heat up the pork in the convection oven we brought over. I also set up areas for plating. My cooking buddy June came to help us in the kitchen. With the three of us, the night went smoothly.
So, we actually did it. The pork and the cilantro were the only things we almost ran out of. We had just enough.
10 Magazine helped us by donating mugs and a gift certificate to High Street Market, which we gave out in a raffle for people who donated more than the suggested donation.
It looks like everyone enjoyed themselves. The guests had fun. The volunteers had fun. We had fun. The cafe owners and staff had fun. When it was all over, the volunteers finally had a chance to sit down and enjoy the food. I myself was looking forward to peeling some shrimp and sipping on a beer, which I did. It was my first beer after a service in over fifteen years.
Filmmaker Fridolin Schoepper created a video about Roy Choi, the much celebrated chef who started the whole Korean taco and food truck craze. Chef Choi will be part of The Avant/Garde Diaries, a show curated by Mike D of the Beastie Boys.
