Eating Out: Round 2

Once I moved into my apartment, for my first night in my new home, I figured I’d check out what the local restaurants had to offer, so I walked down to one of the restaurants across the street from my place.

When I got there and I asked for a table for one, the woman looked at me like I was a weirdo. I think it was because I was there on my own. The thing is, eating out is a very social experience in Korean culture. There are certain etiquette rules that one must follow. For example, you’re not allowed to pour your own drink while eating; you must hold out your cup in two hands while somebody else pours it for you. Eating on your own would make such an act rather difficult.

 

The only other reason she may have been looking at me would be that, like the kids, she just got caught off guard by the fact that I clearly was not Korean.

Nonetheless, I ordered what looked like a delicious beef-filled meal, and waited for my delicious dinner. Then things got weird. First, the server brought out 6 or 7 side dishes, including a macaroni salad, a delicious green salad, two flat things that I think had some egg in them, and a few others that didn’t quite do it for me. (I’ve eaten a lot of dishes I can only describe as things. I have no idea what’s in them, but they go down just fine anyway. Including squid, which I unknowingly had at the school cafeteria. It was delicious!)

But the main course was exactly what I needed. There was enough meat on the plate to feed three mouths (as I would learn a few days later when I brought two friends to the same restaurant and we ordered the same meal). Clearly, Uri was hungry.

For those not familiar with Korean BBQ, the process is quite interesting. There’s a hole in the middle of the table, and servers bring out a coal-filled pot. The pot goes in the hole, the flame goes on, and they cover the top of the pot with a grate, thus creating your grill.

 

Yet again, though, the server stepped in to show me the ropes. (I’ve learned since, however, that servers don’t just cook the food for foreigners; I’ve also seen locals sitting with servers hovering over their table and preparing their meal for them.) The guy pretty much cooked my entire meal for me while I just sat there uncomfortably and watched. I felt bad because I couldn’t do anything to help him, and I’m not even allowed to tip him, because Koreans take it as an insult. And the entire time, he was also serving other customers at the same time. He was literally running from table to table at times.

He cooked up the meat and cut it into smaller pieces using scissors. The whole process took 15 minutes or so. The entire time I was just drooling over the food. I wasn't sure if it was okay for me to start eating any of the side dishes while he was still there, so that made me feel even more awkward. 

Once he was gone, though, I chowed down. I cleared the grill of meat and stuffed my face with as much of the sides as possible. (I’m slowly but surely learning how to use those darn chopsticks.)

 

I sat back and let out a huge breath. I was stuffed.

Then came an unexpected second dish: A gigantic pot of soup filled with vegetables and things. The soup also had to be prepared on the burner. I gobbled as much as I could before I started feeling drunk from being so full, and I headed home, ready for my sweet, sweet bed.