Dinner that bites back...

If you read my last blog post you'll know that I had a potentially interesting dinner planned for last night. Well, it did not disappoint.

You may recall that the phrase "live octopus" had been thrown around in relation to this meal, and I was curious to see what that would really mean. So, when we arrived and walked down the stairs to the restaurant (this place obviously had to be on a lower level--that just makes it more perfect) I guess I shouldn't have been surprised to see several containers of...live octopus. At this point I wasn't too unsettled, as I figured these octopi would be pulled out live, grilled until dead, and then served to us. WRONG. Here is what happened, course by course:

COURSE 1
After polishing off our first of many beverages for the evening (which were made up of a half shot of soju--a Korean drink that's somewhere between sake and vodka in both strength and taste--mixed with about half a beer and then chugged), the first course arrived. And what a course it was. Two large plates full of squirming octopus tentacles. Apparently, preparing them only entailed cutting the legs off and serving them. There was no other cooking done, and these guys were dancing like crazy. Or more precisely, squirming everywhere and using their little suckers to hang on to whatever was nearby. As a result, we had to use wooden chopsticks instead of the normal steel ones they use in Korea (apparently the octopi can't grab on to the wooden ones). Mr. Kim, the host for this meal, told me to grab them and, when upon placing them in my mouth, chew aggressively. I assumed that was because they are chewy and need a strong bite to get through. While true, I later found out the real reason--because if you don't chew aggressively, they will use their suckers to grab on to the inside of your mouth! Having them hang on to the plate or saucers of dipping sauce was bad enough, but grabbing on to the inside of your mouth is, well, beyond. The flavor of these little guys was actually pretty good, but the experience of watching your food wave at you when you are about to take a bit is quite odd. I cannot express enough how freaky this experience was--easily the most unusual thing I've ever eaten. Unusual in experience, not taste. The most unusual taste sensation I have ever had came with course 2.

COURSE 2
For this course, a seemingly innocuous platter of what looked like slices of smoked fish and pork arrived, along with large cloves of garlic and a mound of kimchee. I knew something was awry however, when Mr. Kim smiled and told me to smell the fish. It is hard to describe the power of the ammonia scent that this fish possessed. Overwhelming and heinous are words that come to mind. Apparently, these fish are caught and then immediately thrown into a batch of rice husks, where they are then fermented. I asked how long that process takes and Mr. Kim basically said that nobody knows. The kimchee was also fermented, making the pork and garlic the only normal things on the plate. I quickly found out that all these normal things are just there to keep the ammonia fish from becoming too overpowering. Now, the taste. Hmm, how can I describe this. Maybe it is better to relay some of the bits of "advice" that were offered to me for eating it:
---"Just wait until it heats up in your mouth."
---"After chewing for a minute, you'll taste mint." [which is odd, given that there's nothing remotely similar to mint anywhere near this platter]
---"The experience feels kind of like horseradish in your nose."
---"If you just force yourself not to focus on the individual tastes then you should be able to keep it down."
---"The good thing is that, if you try hard, you can regulate the strength of the ammonia in your nose."

After eating it, I can now say that all of these statements were essentially true. The only thing I'll add is that the strength of the ammonia sensation in my nostrils was enough to wake up a dead horse. I had to do some kind of breathing out through the nose move while eating to keep it from overpowering me and getting my gag reflex involved. Fortunately, I made it through just fine. And by fine, I mean that I didn't spew ammonia fish and octopus tentacles all over the restaurant.

COURSE 3
Now things got slightly more normal--sort of. Course three was actually a delicious cold soup that appeared to have watermelon as a key ingredient. Oysters were the other main ingredient, and there were many of them in my soup. They were tasty, however, and this soup felt completely pedestrian--in a good way--after the previous two courses.

COURSE 4
The final course was another soup. The main ingredients here were chicken and abalone, although there was also a large thorned stem in each of the cauldrons (yes, cauldrons) that the server brought to our table. Aside from that, the soup was delicious. It was some kind of a chicken broth with a variety of ingredients blended in to make it taste like more than just chicken broth. I think this was my first time to try abalone and I'd say I'm OK with it. To me, they were the size of large scallops and tasted like mussels (but much more dense). Apparently abalone are incredibly expensive, as I think it takes a long time for them to reach eating age.

The dinner concluded with several more soju-beer bombs and some great conversation (such as Mr. Kim's story about how a long time ago some Korean ox was very weak and about to die, but ate some octopus legs and came back to life. As a result, eating live octopus legs is incredibly good for your health and vitality. So I guess I've got that going for me). After that, we decided to head home (a couple of the guys got hit harder than expected by either the soju or the octopi and were in no shape to go out any more) and I made it back to my apartment by 9pm, in time for a nightcap and a movie. All in all, I'd say this was my best night out in Korea so far (needless to say, it was my most memorable). With only a few days before I'm off to Vietnam and Thailand, a meal like this one makes me think I will both miss Korea and look forward to the mundane experience of eating pad thai.