Costco: An Adventure in Side Dishes

Koreans adore their side dishes. No Korean meal is complete without at least a couple tiny dishes of pickles, kimchi, and myriad other salty/fishes selections. Anyone who has sat down to a traditional Korean meal (usually sitting on the floor), is well versed in the art of side dishes. It is not uncommon to have a tiny table completely packed with an army of little white, plastic dishes filled with at least 3 kinds of kimchi, hot peppers, some sort of fermented fish, some sort of dried fish, bean sprouts, pickled radishes, pickled cucumbers, japchae, onions, and on and on and on. So it makes perfect sense that when Koreans are faced with a dining experience sans side dishes, they will improvise and find some way to make those side dishes happen.

Enter the Costco cafeteria.

Anyone who has paid a visit to a Costco or Sam's Club in the US knows that the price clubs also feature small cafeterias selling cheap, but delicious, American favorites like pizza and hot dogs. Costco in Korea is no exception. No trip to the Daegu Costco would be complete without a visit to the cafeteria for a slice or two of large, hot, American pizza.

You enter the dining area and are greeted by hordes of Koreans chomping down on reasonably priced pizza, hot dogs, chicken/beef bakes (giant breadsticks stuffed with cheese and beef or chicken), and clam chowder (I still don't know about this one). But something seems strange. At first I couldn't put my finger on it. However, after I ordered my slice of combo pizza and filled up my 500 won Coke Zero, I realized what was off kilter.

As I passed the condiments station (you know, the place where you gets onions, ketchup, and mustard for your hot dogs), I noticed a queue for the onion dispenser and a young high school girl grappling with the metal container. She was struggling to make the dispenser give her more onions to augment her already veritable mountain of diced condiments. After she was satisfied with the amount of onions, she moved on to the ketchup and mustard containers and proceeded to douse her onion Everest in sodium-packed condiments. This was strange to me. Did she and her friends order a bunch of hot dogs and want to bypass individually dressing them? Surely this was the reason.

The pile of onions, ketchup, and mustard. Um, where are the hot dogs?

I was wrong. Oh but was I wrong!

Fighting my way into the only empty seat left in the dining area, I noticed the diners to either side of me also sported their very own dunes of reddish-yellowish onions. And they were tucking right into these. I had to stop myself from visibly gagging but I forced myself to finish off my pizza with blinders on to avoid the salty gaze of those horrible hillocks. After an intensely uncomfortable meal, I headed toward the trash bins to dispose of my plate and on the way saw that every single person in the establishment laid claim to their very own plate piled high with hot dog dressings. And they were devouring every morsel.

The side dish from hell!

And thus ends the story of Korean ingenuity in the face of a complete dearth of side dishes. Although I personally cannot even fathom how disgusting shoveling spoonfuls upon spoonfuls of the stuff into my mouth would taste (let alone the aftertaste - onions stick with you!), the Korean patrons of the Daegu Costco see it as a treat of sorts. Perhaps they didn't notice the way the onion dispenser disallowed them from building their pile of onions with ease (it's a crank shaft dispenser that allows only a small amount of diced toppings out at a time - perfect for hot dogs!). And maybe this is what they think is commonplace for price club dining across America (Western cuisine is extremely fashionable). I just hope this trend never catches on in the US. Ever.

A Washing Machine Story: Part Deux

I am having a very hard time coming to terms with the wealth of talking washing machine stories in my 6th grade English book. Ok, so the first installation of "A Washing Machine Story" was fine. Although intensely bizarre and entirely unrelated to the curriculum in any way, I could tolerate it. But then flipping to today's lesson and discovering this was yet another story about a talking washing machine giving positive reinforcement to the family's laboring was just too much for this waygook to take!

Here is our riveting sequel:

"My dad's socks are in the washing machine.
My dad's socks smell really bad. I know why.
He works hard every day for our family.
He puts his socks in the washing machine.
It smiles and says, 'Thank you for working hard.'"

Is this washing machine a cheeky bastard or what? Also, how does this kid just know
why his dad's socks are in the washer. Maybe he stepped in mud? Maybe he went on a run? There are myriad options that could explain the reason behind his sullied socks. But beyond the kid's implied psychic abilities and the washer's insolent attitude, why are we concentrating so very much on smelly socks in a chapter entitled, "Where is York Street?" This chapter focuses on giving and understanding directions (i.e.- The bank is behind the school. Turn left at the corner and go straight. The hospital is next to the Korean restaurant.)

Once again, I am entirely baffled by the obsession with a singular talking appliance. Now, if they were to switch it up a bit and concentrate on perhaps a talking oven or talking rice cooker or talking toaster (a la The Brave Little Toaster, a fantastic movie) these authors are so lazy that they can't even come up with another common household appliance! Needless to say, I am dreading Chapter 3's Story Time. I just looked. There are 4 washing machine stories. FOUR.

West Meets East: Surprising Finds in Chosen

I know I've commented on this matter before but I wanted to thoroughly examine the issue. Before hopping that plane to Korea, many a waygook is faced with the issue of what they cannot get in Korea. Will I be able to be deodorant? Will they have the snacks I like? Will they have peanut butter? These are normal concerns as everyone is used to their comforts (foods and otherwise). Koreans worry if other countries sell kimchi and chili paste.

I was told I wouldn't be able to find bread (so wrong) or coffee (even more wrong) in the Land of the Morning Calm. These are two basics that most Americans can't live without. However, I didn't really consider the availability of other Western options like cheese and dill pickles.This is my short list of things I was surprised to find in Korea, organized by store. (This is another generally informative post for those wanting to come to Korea or curious about what there is on offer in Chosen.)

Homeplus

·  Goldfish: This is by far my favorite chip/crack snack. I love the fishes cause they're so delicious! You can also find these at the store Olive Young which, on another note, is a fantastic store with tons of cosmetics AND scented candles. If you're into that kind of thing. (I've recently become a fan of the scented candle as my apartment tends to cling to that Eau du Daegu: a lovely mix of the rotting trash outside of my apartment and sewage gases.)

·  Peanut Butter: Skippy and the Lido brand. I'd never heard of Lido but it's American made, much cheaper than Skippy, comes in crunchy and smooth, and is delicious. You can also find PB at larger grocery stores. If you're really gung-ho on it, go to Costco and pick up a ginormous jar.

·  As mentioned in my Packing Guide, Tampax Pearl! I actually yelled to my friend down the aisle to show this find off.

·  Good wine: Homeplus has an excellent selection of wine from across the world and also offers a nice selection of decently priced wines ($7-9/bottle).

Costco!

·  Costco is every foreigner's dream in Korea. It is truly a godsend for all of those Western cravings (although you can buy cases of kimchi, mandu, and soju but I'm not sure why you would want to). I'm going to just list these here, as they are all self-explanatory. Note: this is not exhaustive.

·  Cereal: Special K Red Berries, Honey Nut Cheerios, Kashi Go Lean Crunch, Quaker Instant Oatmeal

·  Snacks: Fruit Roll Ups, Nutri-Grain Bars, yogurt covered cherries, chocolate covered raisins/almonds, Veggie chips, tortilla chips, Snicker's ice cream bars, Western candy (alas, no Reese's)

·  Coffee: Starbucks Breakfast Blend, Starbucks Double Shot Espresso Drinks

·  Liquor: For some reason liquor is rather elusive in Korea. If you aren't in the market for rice wine/soju/beer then you should head to a department store or Costco. I bought a bottle of normally priced Tanqueray in Costco. They also sell Amarula, Baileys, Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, Absolut, brandy, cognac, and lots and lots of wines and champagnes! And if you're lucky, maybe you will find a liquor tasting (I only encountered a beer tasting, MGD.)

·  Misc: sour cream, Eggos, tortillas, Costco cakes/muffins/croissants/soft cookies(!), spices (these are cheap, too), capers, canned veggies, nifty salad dressing

·  Toiletries: lots of vitamins, shaving cream, Neutrogena lotion, Aveeno lotion, tampons, various brands of facial cleanser (Clean & Clear, Neutrogena, etc)

·   Cleaning supplies: Tide sticks!, Clorox wipes (well they are Kirkland brand but still do the trick), Swiffer

The damage that 3 foreigners can do at Costco.

The moral of this post is that you can easily find many of your Western comforts right here in Korea. Korea is not some exotic nor under-developed land that produces only kimchi and soju; it is a very well-developed nation that embraces both the traditional Korean and the international. Stores like Homeplus, Costco, and Emart are there to ease the homesickness of many a foreigner in Korea. If you want it badly enough, I am sure you can find it somewhere in Korea. And if not in the Korean stores, if you can find a friend in the military, you may be able to get it on base, otherwise search in Itaewon on website such as GMarket. The only thing I've encountered serious issues in obtaining are limes. Perhaps this will change come summertime.

A Washing Machine Story

"Our washing machine is part of our family.

My dirty clothes are in the washing machine.

I played soccer with friends from different countries.

'Hurray!' My team won. But my clothes were dirty.

I put the clothes in the washing machine.

It said, 'Good job!.'"

This touching story is brought to you by my 6th grade Elementary School English textbook. For a bit of perspective, the chapter is entitled, "Where are you from?" with the key phrases "I'm from ____." and "It's on the ____ floor."

We are all still grappling with many important questions, such as: What does a washing machine have to do with ordinal numbers? Why is the washing machine talking? Can I claim my washing machine as a dependent on my taxes? Do I have to report my washing machine on my census form? Is my dryer also a part of my family? What about my George Foreman grill?

Suhvisuh Superlatives

I am a big fan of this Korean thing called Suhvisuh 서비스 (Service, for all of those not in Korea). This phenomenon involves copious amounts of free stuff with any size purchase. In the past, I've received service that ranges from the ok to the spectacular. Usually a service gift includes a free sample or two (you will quickly become accustomed to these in the myriad beauty shops across Korea), an extra apple tossed in, tissues, and maybe a small dish of pretzels (which, on another note, are called 쿠키 or cookies here). But then there are days when the little extra bit of service changes the mood of your entire day.

Best Service Ever
The service waffle. My friends and I decided we wanted wine one weekend evening and set out downtown to find this rarity hidden amongst the cheap beers and mixed drinks. Down the road from the foreign favorite watering hold Thursday party, we found Vin. Vin (meaning wine in French) is a cute spot that offers wine by the bottle (though the selection is very limited), sangria (yes!), and snacks. We ordered a pitched of red sangria. It was good, a bit too sweet but still enjoyable. We were having a lovely time just chatting and sipping our drinks. Then the unthinkable happened, one of the servers plopped down a giant waffle smothered in whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and nuts smack in the middle of our table.

"Suhvicuh," he said casually.

We were blown away. As three girls on a Friday night we immediately plowed into this free gargantuan treat. It tasted like cake. A waffle cake! A FREE waffle cake! We polished it off with no problem and vowed to return in hopes that more of these lay in our future. Thus ends the tale of the best service ever.
  
Most Useful Service
As hinted by the previous category, I really like wine. No. I LOVE wine. And it can be difficult to find good bottles at decent prices in Korea. Enter the saviour of all Westerns: Homeplus. On a routine trip to pick-up a jar of peanut butter and whatever else caught my eye, I stumbled into the wine section (this stumbling happens each time I go to Homeplus). There was a tasting. So I tasted. It was a Spanish red that was actually pretty good and on sale (!) so I tossed three bottles into my cart.

The young sales clerk then hands me two small boxes: a bottle stopper and a wine key. She read my mind! I currently lacked these necessary tools in my barren apartment (to be honest, I planned to use my Leatherman to open up the bottle). So I walked away not only with three bottles of good, well-priced wine but all the tools required to enjoy them.

Most Unexpected Service (a tie)
This story is a short one. I needed a garish color of nail polish to wear for my birthday party (it was Kpop themed). So I popped into a Beautiplex near my home to satisfy my cosmetic needs. After much consultation with the very sweet sales lady, I bought one bottle of nail polish and one color of eye shadow. I maybe spent 6,000\. At the checkout, the lady carefully placed my purchases into a bag. Then she proceeded to show me the other goodies I would walk away with: 2 boxes of cotton pads and a pair of ankle socks covered in pink hearts! It felt like an episode of Oprah's Favorite Things. Granted these gifts weren't of much consequence but I spent 5 bucks and left with socks. Cute socks!

The second unexpected service was yet another waffle. I decided to head downtown one afternoon to finish reading the horrible book Ender's Game at a local cafe. I'd read about one in particular called The Mount Coffee. I ordered a cappuccino and settled in to read the rest of this awful book. Just as I realized I was beginning to feel the initial pangs of hunger, BOOM! On my table, a quarter of a service waffle! With maple syrup even!

Cutest Service
I love coffee. So I was pretty excited to discover there is a small yet adorable coffee shop very close to my house. It is called Marshmallow. Now, the first time I visited the cafe I only ordered a take-out cappuccino (I just had x-rays from the hospital next door due to a sprained ankle - I wanted to get home ASAP). The woman who owns the shop is so sweet, she tried to give me cookies (read: pretzels) to go as a bit of service. I politely declined and took my cappuccino on the road.

Seeking caffeination one day afterschool, I decided to pay my nearby cafe a visit. I ordered another cappuccino and took a seat near the window. In a few moments, the woman brought me a tray laden with a bright red cup full of delicious cappuccino and small dish of miniature marshmallows. Ah, the name made sense now! I thought they were a very sweet gesture of service and a nice change from the usual pretzels. But this was no ordinary dish of marshmallows.

The owner then leaned over my table to light a small tea candle on my table. Then she handed me a small pick with a plastic cake topper and instructed me to roast the marshmallows on the tea candle. I was taken aback in a very good way. This was by far the most adorable thing I'd seen in Korea (and mind you, this is the land where even the cows you're about to eat are smiling down at you from a signboard and even the socks depiciting poop (똥) sport a sh*t-eating grin - see what I did there?).

Honorable Mentions
When my Mom visited Korea, I told her about service. At first she was confused but soon embraced it as many a waygookin has. She experienced some serious service when picking up a treat at Paris Baguette. Upon checkout, the clerk handed her an entire loaf of bread! A whole loaf!

This one doesn't really count as service, which is why it is an honorable mention. Shannon and I popped into the newly opened Olive Young store after our Pancake Adventure to pick up a few cosmetic necessities. I didn't need anything so I purused while she did some actual shopping. After paying, however, she discovered a big green box in her bag along with purchases. The box contained a purse size tube of delicious smelling peach lotion, a face mask, a sample of something, and an entire pack of wet wipes. It was a pretty well-sized gift box of things I could actually use. So of course I had to shop some more to get my very own green box of goodies and 30,000\ later, I had one in tow (along with Aveeno lotion, eyelash curler pads, eyemakeup remover, and Werther's originals). Not really service because it was expected but nice and still free!

Fear the Bathroom!

As a kid, I was a cookie-peddling, patch-earning, sash-sporting Girl Scout. Made it through a few years as a Brownie and a year (I think) as a Junior Girl Scout. The other girls always outsold me, mainly because I didn't care if I got that crappy stuffed lion in the Girl Scout uniform for selling 500 boxes of Thin Mints. However, I did attend the occasional troop "camping trip" at Camp Shawano. I call it "camping" because we always stayed in cabins. Not all cabins were alike, though. Bird's Nest was very nice with indoor bathrooms and a cute web layout. The big cabin was fully equipped with all modern amenities including bunk beds and giant kitchens. However, my first camping excursion as a young Brownie was to the Jack Frost cabin - the most bare-bones facility available. I remember 3 distinct things from that trip: 1) We stayed in the heatless cabin on the coldest night of the year. The building is appropriately dubbed. 2) My troop leader thought it was super clever to have us use our outdoor girl scout "skills" to find breakfast. This entailed a bunch of short 3rd graders jumping to snatch mini cereal boxes off of tree branches. Yeah, she tied them up there and made us hunt for Fruit Loops. 3) Latrines. I hate latrines. They smell like Porta-Potties except worse because they never move. They smell of stale urine and feces-ridden dirt. It was awful. That smell is so distinct and so horrid I've done my best to avoid it. I've been successful in this attempt, until Korea.

Fresh, hand-picked Corn Pops

Koreans don't drink water in the quantity that Westerners do. At home, I drink a lot of water and I'm used to having my super-sized water glass refilled about 7 times when I eat out. In Korea, however, we are given cups that belong in a Play-Skool kitchen that are hardly ever refilled and requests for such refills are looked at as somewhat strange. Anyhow, I keep a 2 liter water bottle on my desk at school. I also enjoy a few cups of coffee in the morning to get me started. Both of these habits force me to do the one thing I dread most in the day: use the school bathroom.

The first time I stepped into the bathroom nearest my classroom my nose twitched and my brain sent messages to me saying "ABORT! ABORT! ABORT!" Why was the message so urgent? So dire? Then I remembered. I harkoned back to that day at Camp Shawano. That cold, cold day on the outskirts of Lexington after I had hunted down my tiny box of sugary cereal. And then breakfast ended and I had to do the unthinkable: go to the latrine.

I returned to the present gagging, and reluctantly opened the stall door, praying that I could just hold it until I got home. But home was six hours away. Too long. Far too long. So I sucked it up and choked through the ordeal, hoping I could make the one last fresh breath I took outside last longer. It couldn't and was forced to breathe in the stale, putrid air emanating from the pink-tiled room. It seemed like an eternity but once it was over, I bolted out the door and washed my hands in the sink outside of my classroom. Thank the gods for that extra sink.

The smell is the worst part. I thought. The school bathroom and I became acquainted back in August, when the air was still humid and suffocatingly hot. The situation got even worse as winter descended upon Chosen. Then the time came when I was forced to used the bathroom in winter. And then, the days of Jack Frost revisited me, not just that wretched smell but the cold. Oh the cold! Once again, I shot back in time to that long-haired girl nestled in a thin Ariel sleeping bag on the cold, hard floor of that damned cabin. One juice box too many forced her from the little warmth she gleaned from her Disney burrow, out into the freezing cold air to the wooden outhouse, that stupid latrine.

And I was back in the Daesung restroom, trying in vain to not breath in the toxic-smelling air. I could see my breath as I exhaled. How could a room inside be so cold? Now this dreaded experience not only required jumping into the dreaded odor but entering into a meat locker. These tribulations now make me watch my water with Arrakeen precision, as every sip pushes me closer and closer to that dreaded, freezing cold latrine. Unfortunately today was a day when I didn't watch the water closely enough (I'd be a terrible Fremen) and had to venture into the arctic realm that is the Korean school bathroom.

Lunchtime is Saved!

As indicated by a few previous posts, I really loathe lunchtime at Daesung Elementary. Not that I oppose lunch or Korean food but that the food was just usually really bad. The boiled octopus and more-bones-than-meat dishes outnumbered the curry and mandu days by way too many.

Yesterday we had the much-adored salad and bulgogi. Which was fine - it was good. Today, however, we had japchae noodles with a 찜닭 type chicken dish, finished off with mandarin oranges. It was fantastic! My coteacher then told me we would be paying more for our lunches this year, as the quality of food is going up. This was the second best news I've had all day!!! (The first best was that we now have an espresso machine in the English classroom. WIN!)

So I am happy to report that I will no longer have to dread slogging down the stairs to the cafeteria to consistently meet disappointment upon disappointment served up as my lunch. Though the prison trays are the same, the food no longer tastes like it's from a penitentiary (or at least what I imagine jail food to taste like). The small victories are the best, sometimes.