Sam Woo, that's who!

Saturday morning, Dave and I went to watch Kim Ki-duk's 3-iron, a film about Koreans and golfing (not really). In the film, the Tae-Suk, the itenirant motorcyclist who breaks into houses with tenants on vacation. During his stay, he proceeds to clean clothes (apparently, Koreans still prefer the antiquated technique of rubbing clothes on a washing board), repair broken items, and take pictures with his digital camera. Tae-suk also cooks himself meals at the houses.

I had suggested to Dave that we go to a Korean restaurant, to complete our experience, but he wasn't in the mood, figuring it was too elaborate. In fact, we had almost not made it. I had watched The Incredibles until 4 am Saturday morning, and somehow managed to rise by 9 am to go to the gym. Finishing at just before 10:30, I called Dave, who had already tried to reach me half an hour ealier (I don't carry my mobile with me while working out).

The film, so we thought, started at 11 am, and so we were prepared to live half an hour early to make the Beltway trip to Betheda. As it turns out, the film started at quarter of noon, and so we spent time at the Apple Store.

Once the film completed, I suggested eating Korean. Even though Dave nixed the idea, I made a trip out today to Sam Woo.

For those of who think all Asian cuisine is the same, it's high time you tried out cuisine from South Asia. You'll see that Chinese, Vietnamese, Thai, Japanese, Korean, Burmese, and Indian food each has its distinctive touches.

Koreans, unlike Chinese who prefer pork, place beef as king of meats. A typical Korean meal starts with something resembling appetizers, which need not be ordered separately, as it usually comes with the meal. Today, I had 6 dishes, consisting, to the best of my knowledge kim-chi (fermented spiced cabbage---a national dish), fermented radishes, two kinds of fish (mini sardines, and something fried), bok choy.

In particular, you can find kim-chi in nearly every Korean's household. Usually stored in a large clear jar in the refrigerator, kim-chi is fermented spiced cabbage. To a Westerner, the stuff smells to high-heaven, and it tastes a lot less fiery than expected, given the amount of red chilli flakes that live on its surface.

The appetizers are almost a meal unto themselves. However, I followed that up with a dish Tuk Man-Doo Guk, which is a large bowl of soup, consisting of dumplings, rice cakes, veggies, some egg, in a broth. Large noodle soups are very common in Southeast Asia. Vietnamese pho, for example, is a national dish, and any metropolitan area has its share of pho houses (pho is actually pronouced closer to "fa", though most pronounce it as "foe"_). Chinese and Japanese cuisines also have large noodle soups.

To the untrained eye, these soups look like they serve 3 or 4, and they would, if Asians perceived soup as an appetizer. However, it's often seen as comfort food and a meal unto itself. As I mentioned earlier, Koreans add their own spin by having appetizers, which seem to precede every authentic Korean meal.

Ironically enough, many Korean restaurants also serve Japanese food, particularly sushi. This, despite the general animosity Koreans have to Japanese (mostly due to the Japanese treatment of Korean during the second world war). I suppose money is money.

While watching this film, I wonder how much I'm missing out because I don't live in Korea, so I don't fully understand the culture. As an Asian, I have some idea of Asian culture in general, but certainly a lot less than other Asian Americans since I grew up entirely in the US, and have never been to an Asian country. I suspect there's a strong Buddhist element to Kim Ki-duk's films---interesting, given that the Asian country where Christians have had the most success is Korea. I suspect, being the auteur that he is, even native Koreans may find elements that are strange.

This is probably the sixth Korean film I've watched. Korean cinema has not gained the kind of worldwide acknowledgement as Chinese, Taiwanese, or Japanese cinema. Filmmakers from Korea seem to share the desire for coolness that hip Hong Kong directors like John Woo imbue to his characters. Yet, their films seem more violent. In particular, police abuse seems right out of Dirty Harry. Whether Korean police is this aggressive, I don't know, but I've seen two films with abusive officers. To be fair, you see it in American and Japanese films too. If anything, Korean cinema seems to resemble Japanese more than Hong Kong, at least, the serious stuff that makes it to the US.

Sapporo beer, in the venti size, accompanied my meal. It's a Japanese beer, which tastes like American beer, with a little more flavor. It tastes a lot like Singha beer. It's not heavy and dark like Guinness or Beck's Dark, nor is it complex like a microbrew, nor is it completely watery like a cheap American beek, though that's the closest kind of beer it tastes.

Apparently, I could have had something analogous to a Japanese sake, but Korean style. Next time.