Food. Glorious Food.

We're going to take a short break from scheduled programming so that I can't present to you three of my favorite Korean foods. I would showcase them in order of awesomeness, but to be honest, they're all awesome in completely different ways.

First up, we've got samgak kimbap (삼각김밥), sometimes referred to as triangle kimbap. The setup: tuna and mayo (my favorite filling/flavor/thing!) surrounded by rice, and wrapped in a sheet of dried seaweed, all in a triangle shape. They're kind of a pain to unwrap sometimes, often resulting in ripped seaweed, and you invariably wind up with greasy hands, dropping chunks of rice everywhere, but oh my are they worth it. 

In the middle, we've got tuna mayonnaise, and it's flanked by two tuna kimchi rice variations.

I learned to appreciate this "snack" on a week-long trip to Jeju Island last winter. My girlfriend and I were staying the night near Sunrise Peak (blog post coming eventually!) and needed some dinner. The small town we were in wasn't exactly overflowing with restaurants, so we just went to a convenience store (I'm kind of cheap). I had had triangle kimbap before, but it wasn't until that across-the-street journey that I began to love it more than standard kimbap. After buying a couple (one usually costs about 90 cents),  I heated them in the microwave for 30 seconds apiece. We settled down to eat and I fell in love utterly and traingle-y. I went on to purchase at least 10 more throughout that trip and now it's my go-to snack.

Heated and unwrapped: a triangle kimbap tale.

Next up, we've got sundae (순대). Before you go rolling your eyes, you should know that I'm not talking about the ice cream you can get on the cheap at your local McDonalds. I'm talking about pig intestines. Delicious pig intestines. The name is pronounced "soon-day." The setup: pig intestines, and more pig intestines. Usually stuffed with cellophane noodles and often coming with a few different parts, including liver and lungs.

Here is the standard sundae found on streetsides throughout Korea: pig intestine stuffed with cellophane noodles and blood.

I'm not always the most adventurous when it comes to food, but when my good friend Luke had a hankering for some street food in Seoul and told me what he wanted, I figured, why not? The nice lady served it up with a decent helping of salt, and it didn't take more than my first bite for love to settle right on in. It's partially the salt-lover in me, but that mix of chewy, greasy goodness just does it for me. The liver is drier and not chewy, and the lungs are greasier and almost mushy, but it's like the three together were just meant to be together. See what I did there?

This is Byeongcheon sundae, which owes its name to a small city next to mine. They do something different with the noodles, but other than that I think it involves veggies somehow, I don't have the slightest idea what exactly is different. I just know it's delicious and very, very filling. You can see some liver and lung bits on the left.

I'll finish this off as each meal should be finished, with dessert. Toss out your waffles, your ice cream, and your delicate little chocolates, and check out some patbingsu (팥빙수). It's usually translated on menus as "ice flakes," but that's just nonsense. 

Strawberry patbingsu from Seolbing, a chain that easily bests the patbingsus offered by most of the chain cafes I've been to around Korea. So. So. Good. Do you see those ricecakes?! Mmmmmmmmmmmm.

There are ice flakes, yes, but it's not like there's a guy in the back chipping off tiny slivers from an ice block, unless you're at a Caffe Bene or a Paris Baguette. If you go to one of those standard cafe setups, what you'll probably get is a liberal helping of chunks - not flakes - of ice and a sugary dose of whatever topping you choose, typically berries, oreo, or green tea ice cream. Basically, if the bottom of the bowl looks like it's been filled with tiny ice cubes, I'd rather pass. That's the grape juice of patbingsu. 

Oreo patbingsu from a place in Cheonan called Dalbingko. Not the best I've had, but not bad.

The proper setup: a bowl full of pure white flakes - actual flakes - that don't distract from the delicious toppings with jarring crunchiness. If the flakes are right, some strawberries or oreos are definitely more than allowed, but when I want a real patbingsu experience, I just find a place that puts some pat (red bean) and rice cakes on there. The red bean might look like oversauced baked beans, but trust me, it's delicious. It doesn't look fancy, but it's a truly splendid experience. I start out with the flake test, then mix things up a bit. Once the mixture is about right, I go in for the ricecake pieces. Oh, how truly blessed we are.

This is the traditional version of patbingsu. Milk ice flakes topped with red bean and a ricecake. While I drink green tea relatively often, I am not a fan of green tea patbingsu (on the right, if you couldn't guess), although if the milk bingsu was any indication, I'm sure it was top-notch.

I'll be heading back home in a couple of months, and as excited as I am to get some chili or a Five Guy's burger, I am really going to miss Korean food, be it a convenience store snack or a tried and true patbingsu experience.