Seoulful Nights: A Stumble Through South Korea, Part 2

If you missed part one, check it out here…

 

The bullet train whisked us from Seoul to Gyeongju, where 1,400 year old temples stand defiant against time. As we zipped through the countryside, endless green rice paddies stretched out before us. My dad always says, "When you want a handful of something, order rice." In South Korea, you get an eyeful of it too.

 

These verdant fields reminded me of our vineyards back home. Different crop, same devotion. Just like grapes, different rice varieties have unique characteristics — here, it's all about the starchiness.

 

Why Gyeongju, you ask? Despite its smaller profile these days, between the 7th and 9th centuries, at the height of the Silla Dynasty, this place was Korea’s capital — and one of the most populous and culturally significant cities in the world. We're talking over a million people at its peak. Today, it's a treasure trove of historical sites and relics, a living, breathing testament to Korea's rich history.

Now, let's talk booze. In Gyeongju, I stumbled upon the Gyochon Farmhouse Brewing Co. These folks are keeping alive a secret royal liquor called Beopju. The star of the show is Daemongjae 1779, a home-brewed liquor with a secret recipe that would make James Bond jealous.

 

The Choi family, the masterminds behind this operation, use only the purest water and grains. It's a labor of love — glutinous rice, yeast, multiple soakings, and low-temperature fermentation. They monitor temperature changes to the decimal point. The result is a limited edition of 300 bottles each month. It makes you feel like Korean royalty with every sip.

 

But the real adventure began in Busan. This port city, South Korea's answer to Miami, is a phoenix risen from the ashes of war. On a clear day, you can see Japan from the coast — it's that close.

Let me tell you about the Busan fish market. I'm pretty sure Jacques Cousteau never saw this many fish in one place at the same time. The variety of sea creatures on display is mind-boggling. From some type of whale (don't ask, don't tell) to deep-sea shrimp that live 656 feet below the surface, there's a clientele for everything.

 

I made it my mission to try as many free samples as the market stalls offered. Many times, I found myself tasting things I couldn't even identify. It was a culinary adventure where my taste buds led the way, often leaving my brain scrambling to catch up. I'm always eager to try new things; my girlfriend Irene, not so much. With every new dish I sampled, I made sure to have some soju to wash it down. You know, for cultural immersion purposes.

But it's not just about the fish market. The street food scene in Busan is a gastronomic spectacle. I eventually found myself standing at a pojangmacha (street food stall) at midnight, surrounded by the neon glow of the city. I watched as locals devoured tteokbokki (spicy rice cakes) that looked hot enough to set your mouth on fire.

Then there's the odeng (fish cakes) — skewered and steaming, perfect for a quick bite between bar hops. And let's not forget the bungeoppang — fish-shaped pastries filled with sweet red bean paste. It's like a culinary theater, each corner revealing a new act.

While I didn't try everything (Irene's cautionary looks saw to that), I did venture into a few cold soups. She eyed me with suspicion as I slurped them down. "The risk-reward of getting sick and ruining the trip isn't worth it," she'd remind me. But for me, it's all about the exercise of discovery.