Korea: 부대찌개 Budaejigae and snacks in Insadong

In the magical and mysterious, far-flung land of Seoul, South Korea, there are a seemingly insurmountable variety of selections available for your culinary delight. You can grab a steaming hot cup of Americano from your local train station or Starbucks, then mow through some fresh-off-the-griddle gyerrangpang, these addictive little sweet breads with a fresh egg on top, then stop for sushi for lunch and Italian for dinner...or switch out the different variables for whatever combinations of foods you personally enjoy, whether it's thai, slow-cooked American-South style barbeque, tacos... This was not always the case, though- the Korean peninsula has gone through a lot over its many centuries of civilization, and a hearty resiliency and ingenuity have become a point of pride in the people. After the Americans began to occupy the country during the height of the Korean war, then lingered after the tentative ceasefire took hold, their culinary presence spread, from dishes to canned goods ready to use, and were adopted by the locals. The continued presence and popularity of American fast food chains, like McDonald's and Taco Bell, demonstrate this fact to this day, but subtler influences remain, like the almost perverse love of Spam that can be found from Seoul to Okinawa, Manila to Hawaii... all places where a strong American army presence has lead to the introduction, and then infiltration and acceptance of processed tinned meats and other Americanized foodstuffs into the local cuisines. 

Budaejigae, or Army Base Stew, is a self-aware epitome of this phenomena, utilizing ubiquitous Korean foods like kimchi, gochujang, and local vegetables tossed into the pot with hot dogs, baked beans, spam, ramen, and maybe a slice (or three) of good old American processed sliced cheese for good measure. There are a billion different ways to make budaejigae and nearly as many different restaurants to choose from when trying to find a place to try it. You can also buy it in premade instant ramen form, heavily leaning into the popular role instant ramen noodles typically serve in soaking up the flavorful broth left in the pot at the end of the meal. It's a satisfying hodgepodge of sweet, savory, spicy and creamy, and this particular vat of goodness was enjoyed with a coworker during our lunch break, not far from Ssamziegil in Insadong area of Seoul. It was a delicious and filling lunch, and budaejigae combines comfortingly familiar flavors with Korean seasonings in a way that I think most any American could enjoy, were they brave enough to try it. 

Be brave, my friends. Try all the things!

Korea: 추어탕 Chuoetang (aka Pond Loach soup)

Ever so often, I'll find myself in the awkward position of having restaurant staff asking me to reconsider my order, eyeing me warily to gauge if my spoken pronouncement were a bad joke of some kind. Sometimes this scenario plays out with the chef himself blustering out from behind the doors leading to the kitchen, encouraging (neigh, pleading) with me to reconsider the heat level I ordered and opt for something less radioactive. Then there are those times when I specifically seek out a dish that is, perhaps, a little less popular or well-received by those who've never sampled it before...Chuoetang is one of the dishes that falls into the latter category, a soup that's renowned for its beauty and healthy benefits but not much else. I was able to source the dish in Insadong, near Anguk station, which makes sense. Many of the restaurants that proliferate through the winding, cobble-stone streets and alleys of the area cater to traditional Korean cuisine in all its forms, from the elaborate spreads of Royal court cuisine all the way to humble street foods and mudfish (aka pond loach) soup. 

If the name mudfish doesn't immediately dredge up sensory conceptualizations of the taste, rest assured that the fish's flavor doesn't veer far from the name. Not only does the fish have a distinctly earthen flavor, but it's also not exactly the easiest or prettiest thing to eat. Inventive Koreans of yonder year solved this dilemma by opting to grind up the poor little butterfaces, which lends the soup a distinctive texture. This also takes care of most, though not all, of those microscopic little fish bones that can make eating fish meat such a chore. And guess what? Because you're devouring the fishes in all their entirety, you're getting a super-boost of different minerals, vitamins and other beauty-boosting goodness that you might otherwise miss out on. Like I said before, this soup is considered a super-food for your health and well-being, and all the collagen is especially good for your skin. There's something of an obsession abounding around functional foods in Japan and Korea, and if the condition of the typical woman's skin in those countries is any indicator they've figured something out, alright. The soup was alright, too- nothing to get terribly excited about flavorwise, perhaps, but totally edible and absolutely delectable if it means waking up to softer, healthier skin! 

Cooking: 닭갈비 Dak Galbi

Don't let the unflattering photos here fool you- Dak Galbi is a Korean spicy chicken stir-fry that is incredibly delicious! Smokey, spicy and sweet gochujang, crispy cabbage and carrots, chewy rice cakes and juicy, mouth-watering chicken cooked up quick in a searing hot pan is a dish you'll find yourself craving quickly after trying once or twice. I first sampled it at a small restaurant in Dongdaemun area and have needed a fix every few months ever since, it's seriously that good. You can add more honey or sweetener to balance the heat and bring it back from the borderline inedible heat I prefer, but to each their own. There's a ton of different recipes out there, though I tend to read over a bunch and create my own amalgamation or take based on the ingredients I have on hand (and those I forgot to pick up while at the market) and our taste preferences. I can eat a lot of spicy food without much of a complaint, but Antho's level of heat tolerance is a bit different than mine, so I generally tailor things to be more edible on his end. Even so, reigning myself in from full chili assault, it's often sniffling inducingly hot. These things. I can only imagine the damages I've done to his digestion over the years, but I have to give him credit for being open to trying things he might not have otherwise been open to in the past. When we first started dating he would barely touch a skosh higher heat level than mild, and now he's happily trying bites of my burritos when they're drenched in radioactive-orange habanero salsas! I'm proud of the guy and how much he's opened up to new experiences and foods over the years we've been together.  I can't wait to actually drag him out of the country with me and watch him try to eat live shrimp or squirming octopus tentacles fresh from the tank. Yum yum!

Dak galbi is one of those dishes that often comes to the table immaculately presented, only to be mixed together and become a big mass of textured red stuff. It's not the most appealing visual transformation, but it's delectable! When I ate the dish in Korea it was cooked at the table, so plumes of hot spicy chicken steam and hints of sweet onion would drift up and tantalize my senses before the food was properly cooked. The same effect is achieved by cooking on a very hot wok in a small studio apartment, though getting the smell out after may be more of a challenge. The restaurants that serve it typically have those industrial ventilation fans strategically placed above the tables so that most of the smoke is sucked away before it can permeate you and your clothes too heavily. 

Korea: 곰탕 Gomtang in a bag

 That, uh, delectable bowl of goodness pictured above, with its nearly opaque white beef-bone broth and bone-riddled tail meat (which also happens to be exceptionally delicious when cooked for an extensive period of time, as most meats close to the bone tend to be) is called 곰탕 or gomtang. Typically it's the kind of dish you'd find in a home kitchen, laboriously boiled away with a proprietary blend of vegetables unique to the chef making it until the broth takes on its signature milky color.  In this particular iteration, it came from the grocery store prepackaged and ready to heat, just dump the bag (unopened) into a pot of boiling water and away you go. I opted to dump the contents into a pan and add some greens for a little extra texture and attempt at making a cheap, quick meal a little more healthful. A lot of the foods I found myself eating while living in Korea were quite affordable, and packaged foods could provide a very cheap way to fill my stomach for the time being. Add some rice, some kimchi, you've got yourself a well(enough)-rounded meal!

And let's be real here, I'm a girl who likes to eat, and can eat quite a ridiculous quantity of food when I set my mind to it. This isn't exactly a budget-friendly quality to have in a person, however, so I appreciate things like this warm, soupy broth that can provide soothing nourishment and a full belly at a low price... but sometimes you just need a little something extra, am I right? The market where I purchased the soup ready to eat also had packages of little dumplings, ready to cook, that was quite reasonably priced and easy to justify on a whim... so those found their way into more meals than I'd probably care to admit. The kimchi dumplings were my favorite! To be honest, the soup wasn't the best thing I've ever eaten, but that's kind of to be expected when it comes to food that comes in a pouch, right?

Korea: 골뱅이Golbaengi (Sea snail) and 양념 통닭 Yangnyeom tongdak

If this is your first visit to the blog, welcome! I am Nau, an avid eater, and fan of trying new things whenever and wherever feasibly possible, especially when travelling. In the past I've shovelled things like still-living (and squirming) shrimp into my pie-hole, wriggling miniature octopus tentacles liberally lubricated in sesame oil (to keep from choking, of course), squirmy sentient (or at least prehensile) penises of a creature called daebul, and even more controversial things like that time I tried whale bacon in the tiny dining room of a restaurant nestled deep into a narrow back alley of Shinagawa or braved a bowl of boshingtang in a small restaurant buried in a suburb outside of Seoul. There was also that time back in college when my friends and I were camping and one of our cohorts brought along a bag of marinated wild-caught rabbit he'd hunted and butchered not long prior to our trip, lugged to the site along with the grill it would be cooked on via backpack, to be washed down with fancy booze at hot spring hidden in the desert. Suffice to say, bring me your unusual, your wild, your chewy and your squirmy and I'll give it an honest shot. I'm pretty open to most things, from dog meat to century eggs, fish sperm sacs to bull's balls... To be frank, I think the one and possibly only new food I know of but haven't tried that I'd genuinely struggle to eat is balut, the fertilized egg with a mostly-formed bird embryo tucked inside, replete with barely formed feathers and crunchy little barely-done-bones. Well, that is aside from my perverse aversion to yogurt and pudding, which make me gag with their texture. I know, right? This, coming from someone who willing ingests fish sperm sacs. I wasn't especially keen on sea cucumbers when I tried those, either. But this post is not about things that were unpalatable- or things I wouldn't be able to eat- this post is about things I did eat, and also quite thoroughly enjoyed! 

See that cup right there? That cup is full of magic, of glory, and of things chewy, crunchy, sweet, gooey, juicy and delicious. It hits practically every possible flavor and texture profile yet contains little more than chicken, coated in a crispy-crunchy batter, and rice cakes- both of which are then generously drenched in an addictive sauce. All around deliciousness in a small cup, eaten with a toothpick and a delirious grin. I'm still a bit ashamed with myself for not discovering the joys of 양념 통닭, or yangnyeom tongdak, previously, but to be fair it may have taken the cooler outside temperatures to bring the chef out to the streets to share her goods. Needless to say, fantastic!

The other dish on our menu today is grilled sea snails, called 골뱅이 or golbaengi. This was from another small cart not far from the yangnyeom lady, and the freshly cooked snails were liberally seasoned while grilling and then adorned with garnishes upon serving. Those big tan-ish flakes are bonito shavings, a form of dried fish that is a total umami bomb, imparting serious flavor in the thin slices, which happily wiggle in the steam from fresh, hot foods. The snails were a bit chewier, not especially to any surprise of mine, but tasty. Also very affordable, as much of the street food found in South Korea is. Be brave, my little ducklings, there's so many tasty things out there and you never know what new favorite food you might discover if you don't at least give it a try. 

Korea: 부대찌개 Budae Jjigae, aka Army Base Stew

With October now firmly upon us (holy crap), it seems especially fitting to bring bubbling hot cauldrons of brightly colored potions to the blog! For any witchy-woman or magical-maiden in training, few things can bring comfort like the percolations of bubbles through your own personal little pot of goodness, stewed to perfection over the long, steamy hours. Korean stone pot dishes, called 돌솥 or dolsot, make this dream a reality, though not everything served in them need be toiled over for hours. The stoneware bowls allow you to cook your food in the same dish you serve it in, so long as you remember to watch your hands (they get hot) when it's time to move things from stovetop to slurping station. If, like me, you're not about to go out and load up on all the ingredients necessary to make budaejjigae, or Army Base Stew, don't worry! Whether you're in South Korea or somewhere Stateside, chances are you'll be able to find a restaurant offering what has become a prodigious comfort food for Koreans, ex-pats or even visitors. It's an odd dish for this when you break down its constituent parts- typically there's some form of spam or processed tubular meat stuff, and along with the familiar (to Korean palates) kimchi there's often the addition of sweet and savory baked beans to liven things up and add an unexpected texture to the medley. Other ingredients, familiar to Koreans but not so much to outsiders, make their appearance too- sweet and spicy chili paste in the form of gochujang often lends the familiar smokey depth and gentle heat, while tofu and hearty vegetables often join the pot for a hint of texture or color. It has a warming, soothing sweet and savory, sometimes fiery (depends on the cook and the variant you're trying) flavor that's both familiar and homey while being uniquely Korean- and there's a very good reason for this! The dish originated out of necessity when the Korean war had slowed and the slaughter began to recoil from the land, but many Koreans were still left in incredible poverty and unfortunately, starvation was not uncommon. A lot of native Koreans did what they had to in order to survive, whether it was black market trading for American food rations from the soldiers or worse... the presence of many American soldiers lingered on after the war, meaning that their food rations often stuck around, too. Hence, we find the introduction of foreign foods (in the form of hot dogs, spam, baked beans and/or slices of processed cheese) into a traditional Korean means of cooking- 찌개, chigae. It's a bit of a kitchen sink food stuff, with ingredients from both Korea and America,  and it's good, guys. 

It's really good!

It was difficult to dine out and not be subjected to news reports on the drama hitting the nation, what with the president being found to have ties to a cult and all. Crazy stuff. But from here out, it's just good old fashioned food porn, guys. Enjoy!

Korea: 설렁탕 Seolleongtang

I've mentioned on the blog before that soup is, perhaps weirdly, one of my all-time favorite foods to eat. It's an endlessly versatile food delivery mechanism that is often warming, filling and soothing while also providing a nourishing boost of vegetables and protein in an easy to digest format. The endless customization and variety available means that every region, every culture, and every cuisine, have their own variations and takes on the staple food. One of Korea's most simple and straightforward seeming of soups is 설렁탕 or seolleongtang, a clean and milky white beef bone broth base that arrives at your table unseasoned. This trend towards under seasoning early on, familiar for those who have seen my post on or sampled Samgyetang, seems peculiar to Korean cooking (or anyone who's sampled my mother-in-law's cuisine). Given that the broth comes to the table in it's purest, nude form, you're given several different options for adding flavoring at your discretion; pungent, funky kimchi (in this case to be cut with scissors at the table), kkaktugi (pickled radish kimchi), and an assortment of other banchan and sauces. In this restaurant, this particular time, I was given pickled onions and a deeply umami seasoned squid side. Seolleongtang, despite its deceptively simple base, is one of those foods that I find myself craving time and time again after thoroughly underestimating it prior to trying it. After all, I grew up on tinned chicken noodle soup, with the soup absolutely saturated in salt, and the soggy noodles barely able to maintain their shapes after being pasteurized for safety, so I expected to be severely underwhelmed in the flavor department... to the contrary! The milky beef broth is unctuous and coats your mouth in rich beefy goodness, a light sheen of grease adding weight to the liquid. Brought to the table boiling hot and steaming, it's especially good at warming your body (and soul) after navigating the bone-chilling cold of Seoul's fierce winters. I wasn't even there for the worst of their winters, but I found myself going for seolleongtang multiple times a week. The bits of beef floating in the soup are absolutely tender, and the warm, slurpable noodles add a hearty boost of carbohydrate for energy and density. 

Warms you right up, regardless of the chill outside!

Korea: 짬뽕 Jjampong

짬뽕, or Jjampong is one of those delicious soul-warming foods you never knew you were missing until you try it and realize in shocked horror that you've been sorely lacking something in your life all this time. Typically served with a bright, fiery red broth based on pork or seafood and loaded with a variety of delicious goodies foraged from the waves, it'll cure what ails you whether it's a hangover or homesickness. There are endless varieties and iterations on the dish, some with a white or light colored broth, some with more or less seafoods, some with oysters and some without. As with most foods, the variations tend to be regional as tastes change from region to region, and these differences are highly esteemed and valued in their communities. The dish itself isn't even of Korean origin, it's one of their Korean-Chinese fusion dishes, much like jjajangmyun or tangsuyuk. The Japanese version is Nagasaki-champon, for those familiar with the dish. I was definitely introduced to Champon first, in Japan, by my friend Yuka, but I never associated the two dishes as being one in the same due to the strong differences between the first versions I tried and those I had later on in the US or Korea. Given that's it's one of their Chinese fusion dishes, you can find it at restaurants that cater to that genre of foodstuffs, and it's often exceptionally affordable to boot. For example, I had this meal in Dongdaemun, only a short walk from the train station, and paid less than $5 US for the heaping bowl of sea-filled goodness. Not only did it warm my tired, hungry, homesick soul, but it didn't break the bank, either! Koreans seem to have a pretty good handle on how to make really good food at reasonable prices, and jjampong is a shining example of this ethos. Delicious, full of vegetables, noodles and plenty of healthy protein- but don't mistake this as a health dish, there's tons of fat and sodium to give it all that flavor, too!

 

You don't have to book a trip to Seoul to enjoy jjampong, there's plenty of restaurants that serve it stateside too! You can even find instant noodle versions if you're really craving for it. I definitely recommend trying it fresh, at least once in your life!

I may have been doing some research for my impending return to Vegas... lol!

Korea: 홍어회 in화정 or Hongoe in Hwajeong

Throughout my entire stay in South Korea, I lived in the small town of Hwajeong, in Goyang prefecture. It's only a short commute outside of Seoul, about 30 minutes by train in to Anguk area which was without a doubt one of my favorite neighborhoods to spend time in. Hwajeong was a charming little suburb to reside in, though, and I thoroughly enjoyed my time living there! Not only was it easy (enough) to commute to and from work on the daily, but there were multiple options for shopping, recreation, and dining throughout the area. While your typical suburb in Las Vegas has at least one convenience store nestled in its midst, there's no real guarantee that you'll be able to get to a grocery store on foot, not in any timely manner anyway..this issue is referred to as "food deserts", where fresh foods are less readily available and residents need to commute to have access to amenities. In Hwajeong I could walk 5 minutes and have my pick from several small groceries, multiple convenience stores (of different brands/names) and countless fast or slow food restaurants. Who says that Americas the greatest country in the world? For sheer capitalistic indulgences and opportunity, South Korea certainly seems to have learned from us and upped the ante.   

Another thing South Korea does well, that we don't really do much here, is fermented fish. Tangent much, eh? In the United States, you might find some form of pickled fish hiding in a dusty, forlorn corner of the grocery store's "ethnic" section, but in Korea, there's a famous fermented fish whose name strikes fear into the hearts (and nostrils) of those familiar with it: Hongoe. This funky beast is the result of fermenting skate, those cute little mini-mantas who have the peculiar habit of urinating through their skin. This, naturally, gives the fermented variety of their flesh a distinctly ammonia-heavy odor that even I, a girl whose sense of smell is laughably non-existent, found challenging. To be fair, hongoe is a challenge even for native Koreans who grew up around the stuff. Typically eaten with super-ripe kimchi and sweet milky rice alcohol in the form of makkgeoli, you can also find hongoe prepackaged at some grocery stores. It's much more affordable to buy the prepackaged variety, and so I decided to give it a go, but I have to admit I wasn't able to eat the whole package on my own. The texture of the fish is unusual, too, with a cartilaginous crunch that's hard to compare to anything that hasn't been rotting in its own urine for an extended period of time. 

Even just looking at these photos is giving me olfactory flashbacks. Oof. Enjoy the photos of the pretty view from here out, to hopefully get some of the funk out! You might also enjoy noticing the little bird, who perched atop the tower here. 

Until next time, thanks for stopping by!

🐟

XOXO,

NAU

Korea: 순대국 Sundaeguk

순대국, or Sundaeguk, is one of those foods that you won't really find on too many high-end Korean restaurant menus, and there's probably some good reasons behind this... Chief among reasons why sundae doesn't make it's way to the top of many luxury menus is the fact that it's essentially a food born of necessity rather than sheer, simple, deliciousness. This is not to say that it's not delicious- sundae is something you'll find on many "must eat Korean food" lists because it absolutely is a delicious food! That being said, there's just something about a food based around congealed pork's blood and rubbery sweet-potato starch noodles as a filler that can be a hard sell for those who view nose-to-tail cuisine, and unusual cuts, as less-than-desirable or palatable. A shame, for those foolish folks, because sundae, and the other necessity foods that arise from "off" cuts (like gobchang or horumon) are generally pretty fabulous. Sundaeguk, or blood sausage soup, is one of those super-delicious, filling, and affordable home-style meals that you can find in small neighborhood restaurants throughout Korea but are less likely to encounter in the states. It's a perfectly practical food- after enjoying a fresh meal of steaming hot, freshly cooked sundae dipped in the seasoned salt mix, you chuck any left overs into a stew to stretch them further for yet another meal. Sundae is a food born of practical need to use up and stretch rare or otherwise expensive ingredients, as is sundaeguk, and as such it doesn't get the limelight. In this way, it's kind of like the bookish girl who gets ignored for the flashier, more in your face types- there's a real treasure to be found there for those who know where to look. Some of the tastiest foods in life fit this profile, though, don't they? Macaroni and cheese is, for all intents and purposes, a largely shapeless blob of waxy orange and white goo, after all, and refried beans (a staple out here in Las Vegas) are literally shapeless smashed brownish grey paste that taste like heaven and look like something you squeezed out into the porcelain bowl after a particularly negligent dietary weekend. 

Suffice to say, sundaeguk is delicious and you should absolutely try it if you find an opportunity! I'd recommend going for a freshly made batch in a restaurant, but the packaged version (like the one I tried here) wasn't terrible. Don't judge a meal by its looks, man, that's all I'm trying to say.

Korea: 우동불볶이 Udon-bul-bokki

Mm, gods bless the carbohydrate, the staple energy source for most human meals and a highly adaptable, multi-purpose foodstuff. Grains have come a long way since the dawn of the agricultural age, and what better exemplar of this than noodles. Not only does wheat flour allow us to make pancakes, cakes, and bread (both leavened and flat), it can be rolled out and sliced into noodles of any variety of shapes and sizes. Sometimes you want the super-thin and slippery angel hair or somen type of noodles, and some days you want the big, fat, slurpable succulence of udon. Don't worry, love, if noodles are your jam, you'll have more than a reasonable amount of options available to get your fix. Korea is a heaven for noodles and carbohydrates, from the tender yet addictively sweet and spicy tteok-bokki (떡볶이 ), to the endless walls and shelves of ramyun (라면) in all it's assorted spices and seasonings, to this: udonbulbokki- or fire udon noodles in the style of tteok-bokki or ramyun-bokki. This is another of those super simple, super affordable meals that came prepackaged from the supermarket.

 I opted to gussy it up with some cheese, as suggested by the package. You don't have to, in the name of keeping it simple, but the noodles have fire (불 "bul") in the name for a reason: they are HOT! And I'm not just talking about spicy noodle bae on the package here, these noodles were definitely on the fiery end of the flavor spectrum. Did you know that the fats in lactose-heavy foods can actually help cool and soothe the burn? That's why you'll so frequently see people with a bowl of ice cream or big glass of milk nearby when doing spicy food challenges! Hence, throwing a slice of melty processed cheese on top of your spicy a$$ noodles helps calm the burn a bit,which makes it a popular seasoning choice for the nearly incomprehensible selection of noodles ready to bring the fire in Korea. The udon was pretty good, though I think it would have been better as part of an overall meal and not as the singular main course. I'd eat it again if I ran into it, but it's not my favorite thing I ate in Seoul...

Keep chasing the fire!

🔥

XOXO,

NAU

Korea: Galbitang 갈비탕 and Ssamziegil snacks

Undoubtedly, one of the best things about living and working in Seoul is the ready accessibility of delicious, affordable food at any turn. Whether you're in need of a robust, hearty meal with a rainbow of banchan to whet your palate and satisfy your hunger, or simply an easy, light, quick snack to tide you over, you'll never have to go far to find it. The Fun Caricature location I spent a significant portion of my work days at in Seoul's historic arts and crafts district of Insadong, near Anguk station, was especially well-endowed in terms of delicious options- from food carts to sit down breweries, high or low end, it was all there. We could even get food delivered to us right at the location, fresh and steaming hot, should the need or desire arise (it did). Korean food delivery systems are among some of the best in the world, though America is desperately trying to catch up these days with Ubereats and Doordash and whatever other silly-named services have since come out offering to ferry your food directly to you to save you the hassle of going to get it. 

While I frequently opted for the cheap, quick snack from a vendor or the convenience stores, there was no denying the bounty of restaurants available to choose from near the caricature location. At first I was too anxious to go and try to fend for myself in a restaurant where the language is something I sorely struggle to comprehend, but once I started to pick up on reading Hangul (it's really a lot easier than you think it is) and could deduce the items on the menu it was a lot less intimidating. The meal pictured above, a delicious and warming bowl of beef rib soup (aka Galbitang) and ample banchan was reasonably priced, even for being in a nicer restaurant in a tourist-heavy area, and I thoroughly enjoyed it as a change of pace from the usual hard boiled eggs and mysterious sausage-shaped-fish-based-food. My coworkers would sometimes join me on these lunch outings, but this was a solo mission. It was peaceful. If there's a lesson here, my friends, it's to be brave and get out there and try. Believe it or not, most people are actually quite kind at heart, at least in my experience out in the world. 

And who knows, maybe you'll make friends with the sweet lady at the dongppang (poop bread) shop!