The presidential election is over and the New Year is on. Kim Jong-un in the North chose less provocative words than usual for his New Year address. The National Assembly here cut hundreds of billions of won from the defense budget in the 2013 spending bill, and groups of our representatives left for junkets in Latin America, Africa and elsewhere on taxpayers’ money. We citizens too deserve a little relaxation, having been exposed to so much of politics. In this, the coldest winter in living memory, stay indoors and try naengmyeon, cold noodles which are best if taken on a hot ondol floor, or a bowl of daegu-tang.
The election has exposed the nation as being divided 51.6 percent to 48 percent, and between the “2030” and “5060” generations. But prior to the ideological and generational divisions, the nation had already been sharply split ― by differences in palate. Our culinary incongruity is as irreconcilable as people’s political inclinations, perhaps because they are both regionally rooted.
During the rule of President Kim Young-sam in the 1990s, gourmets from across the country came to Jangmok on Geojedo Island, the native home of “YS,” which is famous for daegu fishing. They traveled all the way via Jinju, Tongyeong and through the world’s largest shipyards on Goeje to enjoy the thick, flaky white flesh of the cold-water fish similar to Atlantic cod. Satisfied with the refreshing daegu soup, they brought back home dried daegu and small jeotkal pots of salted daegu eggs and gills.
Move on to Kim Dae-jung’s “People’s Government” and we saw the sudden rise of demand for “hong-eo,” or skate, especially those caught off the remote Heuksando Island in the West Sea. Samhap, the three-in-one combination consisting of the slices of raw hong-eo, boiled pork and long-preserved (up to three years) kimchi, which is most popular in DJ’s home turf of Mokpo, became a specialty on banquet tables. Hong-eo restaurants serve the fish in A, B and C grades by the degree of fermentation, the last one saved for extreme aficionados who like its pungent ammoniacal smell.
The people of Jangheung on the south coast, ever proud of their foods like their neighbors of Gangjin, Haenam and Mokpo, developed their own version of samhap for people who are not so keen about hong-eo. It is the combination of gaejogae, the large triangular shellfish, their high-quality hanwoo beef and pyogo mushroom grilled in a “ssukdol” stone pot. This relatively new entry is competing well with the hong-eo samhap, the kkomak clam of Beolgyo and other specialties of the southwest.
President Lee Myung-bak brought gwamegi to the tables of Seoul taverns. The slices of half-dried mackerel popular in Lee’s hometown of Pohang, North Gyeongsang Province, had a new appeal to drinkers as an appetizer. Originally, gwamegi was made from herring, but when this fish became rare in the southeastern seas, people cut fillets from the abundant kkongchi and dried them before eating with seaweed and raw vegetables. Gwamegi goes well with soju and makgeolli and its popularity is sure to last even after Lee retires.
Park Geun-hye’s constituency Daegu has no well-known culinary specialty other than spicy beef soup and rice called ddaro gukbap, which is understandable for its inland location. Blogs introducing good eateries in Daegu only have lists of beef or pork barbecue houses and some eel restaurants, the kinds that can be found in any part of the country. This is rather appropriate as the president-elect has the grand design of national reconciliation, erasing geographical and ideological boundaries.
So, one may prepare daegu soup and dishes of Mokpo or Jangheung samhap, and Pohang gwamegi on the table for a politically correct party. A dexterous wife who faithfully learned the traditional culinary art from her mother-in-law must have made daegu egg and gill jeotkal to draw guests’ chopsticks to all parts of the table. There should be at least five or six different kinds of kimchi ― nabak kimchi, kkakddugi, oisobaegi, gat kimchi, pa (scallion) kimchi and kkodeulbaegi ― in addition to gimjang pogi kimchi, the main winterization item.
First lady Kim Yoon-ok has enthusiastically promoted the globalization of Korean food over the years. Globalization of our ethnic food will help overseas Koreans enjoy the flavors of their homeland and offer the international community an opportunity to become familiarized with the Korean culture at a time when Korean merchandise takes an increasing share of world markets. The campaign may take many years to bear fruit ― and more than a century for hong-eo to be accepted. But, now that we have seen what happened to the K-pop shows and the “Gangnam Style” music video, who knows?
Italy has 500 different kinds (excluding subcategories) of cheese, the Indian subcontinent has as many different curries made of nearly 100 ingredients, Vietnam has numerous nuoc mam dipping fish sauces, and Korea has at least 100 varieties of kimchi and nearly as many kinds of jeotkal to use in making kimchi or to eat separately. Our buckwheat noodles, divided chiefly into Pyongyang and Hamheung naengmyeon strains, are being challenged by the Bonpyeong and Chuncheon varieties, each developing “original” flavors with the addition of potato starch and other flours in varying proportions.
KBS-TV’s “Koreans’ Dinner Table,” takes us to all corners of the country in deep mountains and outlying islands guided by actor Choe Bur-am to explore the culinary secrets from ancient times. It is just fascinating to learn how Koreans have lived with such a great variety of regional foods in such a small land. But their inevitable dependence on kimchi and the fermented condiments of ganjang, doenjang and gochujang also prove the oneness of the nation.
Whether in cities or in the countryside, people are happy when they can have whatever they want on their dinner table and most of us can do so nowadays. If many of us are resigned that our presidents, National Assemblies or political parties cannot make us any happier, we are sufficiently happy with rice, well-ripened kimchi and sweet meat soup on the table amid amicable chats with our loving family. We would just trust that the incoming government will take good care of the less fortunate who cannot make it on their own for reasons beyond their control.
By Kim Myong-sik
Kim Myong-sik is a former editorial writer of The Korea Herald. ― Ed.
