Food Musings

A topic of conversation that seems to come up a lot lately is whether or not one could kill an animal in order to eat it. Last summer, I lived with these guys. The turkeys wandered around camp, eating little bugs and pecking at anything shiny. When they were still babies, they would hop in my lap and I thoroughly enjoyed petting their feathers. This spunky guy tried to get into my tent.

But I had no amount of disconnect about the reality of the situation. Turkeys are food. When they wandered close to the fire pit, I would joke, "Yes, make yourself ready!" Why can't you play with your food and eat it too? Let the turkey live a nice happy spring and summer and come late autumn, he becomes dinner. But the question always is: could I kill the animal? Could I make dinner out of a living creature instead of a sterilized package?

Two years ago, I would have said certainly not. I also had trouble, for a while, cooking with raw eggs because they gave me the willies. But the more I learn about food, the more comfortable I am with the process by which it has come to me. I remember when I cooked a roaster one night in college and I spent so much time trying not to think about the weight of the animal in my hands or the feeling of its skin. But now, I can look at meat and imagine where on the animal it came from, what the animal must have looked like. I try to thank it for playing a role in the continuation of my life. So, I believe, with gratitude in my heart, I could turn one of my pets into my dinner. I've never had this opportunity, though I haven't sought it out either. Maybe that's a goal for next fall.

But this feeling of connectedness with my food is what makes me a comfortable omnivore. I am content to eat meat with the knowledge that it was at one point an animal. But what about the rest of my food? What WAS all of this at one point? I find myself, after having read so much about the American food industry, sticking to the outside of supermarkets--even here in the Czech Republic where the food industry is starting to follow the American standard. I get fresh fruits and vegetables, fresh bread, meat, and dive into the aisles only for grains and spices. Yesterday, however, I needed to make a banoffee pie. It was an urge I could not control. I had to find condensed milk and digestives. I knew that the can in my had contained milk that had been cooked down, I think, to be thicker. Okay, I can handle that. The digestives were the next step. More appropriately than in American supermarkets, the cookie aisle was one with the candy aisle. I scoured the shelves for something not made by Opavia, a Czech company owned by the one and only Kraft Foods. I pretty much came up empty on that front. So, I headed over to the natural foods section of DM where I was able to find cookies not made by Opavia and with a fairly short list of ingredients.

When I got home, I put away my groceries. I wondered why every week I suddenly felt by Friday like I had no food left. I made two piles of food as I unpacked my groceries: fridge and counter. That's why. Almost none of my food goes into a cabinet to store for later. I buy very few things with any sort of shelf life or which I don't intend to use within a few days. And while it's frustrating because it's not how I've been taught by society to shop, it's actually the most natural way to do it.

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Octopus

Warning: This post is pretty much entirely about eating a live octopus. If the idea of this offends you in any way, you might want to stop reading now. It gets graphic. Apologies to my vegan readers!
Scroll down to the bottom if you just want to skip ahead to the wriggling video action.
This is usually what it looks like when we go out to eat. I have no idea how we have so many plates and bowls, but we always do. Last night, the restaurant lady even started serving our food on top of stacks of other dishes.



When Dini, Nicole, and Arthur decided to get an octopus (which I cannot eat, having tested as allergic to seafood and not wanting to test this allergy in Korea), I was worried that I would seem culturally insensitive if I took pictures. We were the only people in the restaurant and though Dini gave me crap, he was okay with it. Here, he took my camera and took pictures of her cutting up the live octopus.

He also took this picture of the tank in which the little guys live. Seriously, for people like their sushi or seafood fresh, can you beat this?

You cannot really tell in this picture, but the octopus' suction cups are stuck to Dini's lip. He is struggling to pull it off. You can see his lip being pulled too.

"Gotcha!"

The octopus on the plate.

Nicole washing it down with a little soju.

The grizzly remains. You can see the head on the right. The next few pictures are of what happened to said head. It bothered Nicole and I a little bit because it had these big blue eyes that were watching us. They decided, in true Korean fashion, that the best way to pick who would eat the head was Rock, Paper, Scissors. At first, it was going to just be Arthur and Dini. But Nicole and I had to but in and ask, "Wait, wait, do you eat it if you win or if you lose?" It was apparently obvious to both of them that you eat it if you lose. Unfortunately, bringing up this discussion made them realize that Nicole wasn't planning on partaking. They would only play if she would. Nicole was terrified that she would have to eat it. I have never seen such relief as when she got out in the first round.

Dini lost, but he took it in stride. He dipped it in some sauce.

And then, of course, to freak us out had to play with it a little bit.

"Mmm, juicy."

"I can feel the eyes pop."

But Nicole, how do you really feel?

What you've all been waiting for, video:

Chapter Thirty: East Meets West Thanksgiving

So, yesterday was Thanksgiving. I had been talking to friends about it for a while--I decided there was no way that I wouldn't have Thanksgiving just because I was in Korea. Arthur had the same thought. His parents sent him tons of things that he needed to make Thanksgiving and my mother sent me a bunch of stuff too. Our powers combined, we showed five other people their first Thanksgiving.

Yesterday morning, it was strange to get up and go to work, knowing it was Thanksgiving. Kelly asked me about it before my first class, "It is a big holiday for you, right?" It kind of struck me at that moment that it is a big holiday for us, as Americans. It's not religious, it's not patriotic, it's not overly-commercial. It does have a checkered past, but for what it is now, it means a lot to me. Growing up white in America, you don't have many chances to feel like you have your own culture. When all you ever do is the same thing that everyone else is doing, you don't think about it. It was interesting to explain Thanksgiving not just to the Korean teachers, but also to the other Westerners. It reminded me that I am part of a culture-- the American melting pot (or is it a tossed salad now?).
Above you can see the glorious set-up, complete with very little matching tableware, kimchi, and the turkey center piece.


Arthur, carving the bird. Yep, that is a rotisserie chicken from Costco. Turkeys were like 60,000 won and we had nowhere to cook it. I was pretty excited to have another dinner party in my apartment. I'm amazed that we squeezed seven people at the table, but we did have to borrow three chairs from school to do so.


In Arthur's bowl, you can see my homemade squash soup. Like I made two years ago, except this time without a recipe! I blended up the squash with some chicken broth and tomato paste. Then I added onions and cherry tomatoes. It was a hit!

Arthur gives dinner one big thumbs-up. In the background, you can see that we didn't have enough table or counter space, so my bed held the dessert. Ah, studio apartment living.

The American hosts.

And Korean style!

Dini tells me that sticking leaf confetti to your face is a Thanksgiving tradition. Little known fact.

I really enjoy the juxtaposition of the Corelle Wear bowl of cranberry sauce next to the earthen bowl of Kimchi. East meets West.

"Yes, Mom, I did make the green bean casserole! Lookit that! And no, I am not going to keep it as leftover so that I don't get botulism."

Time for dessert. Arthur got us a pumpkin pie and I made the pumpkin monkey bread that my mom sent me (thanks mom!). Everyone was so full, we took one bite, stared at our food for a while, then took another. Arthur and I assured everyone that it was the proper way to enjoy Thanksgiving.

Monkey bread in the foreground and a very approving Nicole in the background.

What would Thanksgiving in Korea be without the soju...

And the candy corn?

Arthur created a confetti Korea, which is pretty amazing. Complete with some of the islands!

I made my own island. I think that Greenport is the gold turkey between two red turkeys on the North Fork.

Nicole's Australia.

Arthur's Georgia.

I felt like it would be unfair of me not to make Massachusetts after how well she treated me for four years. Long Island, Massachusetts, you will always be competing for the title of "home."

'Merica! ala Arthur.

Last, but not least, Great Britain by Chris.

In the end, I'd say it was a really great Thanksgiving. Definitely better than last year, but merely consuming more than a piece of toast would make it better than last year. I spent a lot of dinner thinking about the folklore about Thanksgiving: the white people present the natives with a feast to thank them for helping them survive. It kind of felt that way having Koreans and non-Americans over for Thanksgiving. Without them, I certainly wouldn't have made it this far.

As the days fly by, I am getting closer to the day in late December when I will leave Korea. I know it is for the best for innumerable reasons, but I will also miss it here. I love this city, I love my students, and I love the whole adventure. Nevertheless, I am happy to be leaving when I know I will still be able to look back on this as an overwhelmingly positive experience.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Daegu Food Expo

So, this weekend, I ended up at the less-than-thrilling Daegu Food Tour Expo. There were some nice carved gourds, but that was probably the highlight of the day. It was more exciting to me that I was on any adventure at all... and here's how it started:

On Friday night, Chris talked me into going to Commune, where, as it turned out, there was no pub-quiz going on. While I normally have a one-drink-max policy, I was talked into staying out for a few.

I enjoyed a nice pint of OB, which is roughly on par with Rolling Rock.

And then I apparently made friends with this guy here, Zhian. I have not really done much to make friends with other Westerners, so this was a big event. I talked to strangers and exchanged e-mail addresses with Zhian. He reminds me of my friends from Long Island or Smith. He wears huge glasses and cuffs his jeans. Clearly, we were meant to be friends. On Saturday, he e-mailed me to invite me to an International Food Festival he was going to with some friends. We met up outside of Commune yesterday in the daylight and took a cab with two of his Korean friends to this food expo. On the way inside, Zhian joked, "Wouldn't it be funny if this were one of those things where you only get to look at the food and not eat it?"
Ha ha... oh wait.

There was very little in the way of food to be consumed, most was to be looked at. But, at least some was exceedingly pretty! There were a bunch of carved gourds. Anyone else completely in awe of the idea of carving watermelons as anything other than bowls for fruit salad? We believe that the two side peacocks were carved out of radishes.

More radish/watermelon mixed media. Yes, they did glue a face to that mermaid.

Beautifully Asian.

In addition to pretty gourds, there were pretty cocktails--which also could not be consumed.

Wintery themed gourds.

This was my favorite! It's a wat-o-lantern! I cannot explain the beauty of the glow coming from inside this watermelon rose. It makes me really tempted to make a watermelon jack-o-lantern for Halloween next year.

Simple but beautiful.

Korean pride! The ingenuity astounds me.

Beautiful flower and it looks like the pumpkin in the background carefully had those words removed and then pushed back in, amazing!

Oh right, the food. It was frustrating and difficult to get to. Not much in the way of international and... not all that much food to begin with. But this was an interesting kebab place. We had expected there to be a lot of free food at little stands. Instead, you had to pay for it, there wasn't that much of it, and most of it you could just get on any street downtown.

When I first came upon this, I thought. "Ah yes, this is where we stick children behind tables with cakes and tell them not to eat them? It's just like Birthday Party day at school!" After much pondering aloud and noting differences in the cakes, we determined it must have been a children's cake decorating contest. Why they had to sit behind the cakes, I still don't understand.

A sea of small children in chefs hats listening to somebody speak. Also, none of them are messy at all, which I don't understand. Did they decorate the cakes somewhere else? Were they wearing different clothes?

The judges? I assume.

We left the expo, feeling defeated and still looking for good cheap food.
Well, at least we got balloons out of it.

Balloon jousting.

Little balloon Zhian.
We took a cab back into downtown and got the spiciest chicken I've ever had. I was laughed at by Zhian's Korean friends because I would take a bite, then sit with my mouth open contemplating how to put out the fire that was burning from my lips to my stomach.
Nevertheless, an excellent Sunday afternoon was had by all. Also, I think this means that I found hipsters in Daegu, Korea. Who needs Williamsburg?