I woke up from a nap to find that thirty five emails had been exchanged in a conversation to figure out where to eat dinner. Originally Michelle wanted to try this Korean place that is known for its braised short ribs. Then came all the replies. “I just had Korean two days ago.” Other suggestions were tossed into the mix. In the end I told Michelle, “Let’s just go to the place you originally picked. If people don’t want to join us, they don’t have to join us.” It was settled. We went to Seongbukdong.
I could eat this stuff every day.
This is what they are known for, their signature dish. The texture is incredible. You can cut it with a spoon, but it’s firm. The flavor is sweet and savory. It makes me sad that I am looking at a picture of this and not eating it. I think I finally know how Michelle feels about all food.
Here is the same dish, cut up. The meat still holds together, and I am still sad I am not eating this.
So after all the email madness, all turned out well. Maybe not exactly. One of our friends got mixed up in all the emails before his phone died. He thought he was getting Japanese food. He came all the way from Irivine, and needless to say he was disappointed. After all that drive he didn’t want to go J-Town so we walked down the block to Shoubu.
Tea time? Nope. Sake time!
Everything fish cake.
I didn’t eat here since I was still happily stuffed with braised short ribs. A beer was all I could handle. The food here looks to be okay, nothing phenomenal. I wouldn’t come back here because like a lot of places in Korea Town, a cloud of cigarette smokes hangs overhead. I prefer my meat to have a smokey flavor, not my clothes.