How to Speak Korean: Part One in a Series

맛있다 Masheeta - "it's delicious"

You may be wondering what, exactly, could be delicious about anything involving kimchi.

Listen Jake, I've heard of this kimchi stuff, you'd say.  Cabbage, covered in hot pepper, garlic, fish paste, soaked in vinegar, and left to rot in the ground over the winter.  I may eat that plastic cheese from Velveeta, and that mystery meat that passes for "meatloaf" at school, but I'll die before I eat anything that undergoes the same process as a corpse.

And yes, dear reader!  You may be right!  Kimchi is indeed an acquired taste.  When you grow up eating it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner as my students do (no joke), you'd better like it.  When you move to a strange land after 23 years eating delicious, not rotten, food, it's - how to put this delicately - a different flavor.  Fiery, sour, bitter, and a little sweet, kimchi is not for the faint of heart, or those who place a premium of minty-fresh breath.  But follow me, and imagine the following scenario.

You're walking down the street on a frigid Korean winter night. Tiny snowflakes dance in the wind as a flurry passes over the streetlights.

You spot a sign in front of a restaurant on the side of the road.  "Kimchi zziggee" a strange little mushroom-man pronounces.  You're cold and you're hungry, so you walk in the front door.  Your glasses fog up immediately as you take your shoes off and enter the restaurant floor.

A middle-aged Korean woman points you to a table - on the floor of course.  You pull out the floor pads and sit down, the floor is heated, but you're still chilled from the cold outside.

Not two minutes later, the woman brings a large, hot bowl to your table. Inside is a red liquid, bubbling furiously.  Through the steam you catch glimpses of green onions, huge cabbage leaves, and massive slices of pork, with the fat still attached.

Dive into the pot with the provided scissors and chop away, breaking the cabbage and pork into manageable chunks.  Spoon the soup into your bowl, making sure to get plenty of cabbage, pork, and onions.

Dunk a bit of rice into your bowl, and dig in.  The pork is phenomenal, tender and flavorful.  The kimchi is soft and mild, all sourness and bitterness lost to the bubbles and the heat.  The broth is delicious, rich and flavorful.  Feel the hot pepper warm you from the inside - or maybe it's just the broth bubbling and steaming inside.  Either way, it's the perfect antidote for a cold Korean winter's night.

I'll have pictures next time, I promise!