A European Fatass in Korea

‘No! Not enough people,’ the waitress informed me with a strong Korean accent and a big smile. Her perfect complexion hardly gave away her age.

It’s my first day in South Korea and I’m trying to get a table at a modern neighborhood restaurant near my hotel in Incheon. Barbecue restaurants in Korea normally serve only groups of two or more people. The amount of meat a person eating alone typically consumes is not enough to justify the effort that goes into serving it, so there’s a two-people-minimum requirement to even get a table at such restaurants.

‘No, it’s fine. I can handle it,’ I assure her.

‘Two people or more,’ she insists with an apologetic smile, waving her hands. ‘Much food.’

‘I know. I can handle it’ I repeat, amused with her implied judgement. ‘Trust me. I eat a lot!’

‘Oh! Ok!’ she laughs, leading me to a table by the window. ‘Usually for two people.’

You ain’t seen nothin’, baby.

At this point I’d been backpacking in Asia for nearly four months, and I’d grown accustomed to the amused looks my meal portions drew from the locals wherever I went. On any given day I’d walk a minimum of 10 miles, so I was eating enough food to feed a small army. Naturally, each place came with its own set of challenges.

Thailand and Taiwan were a constant temptation: night markets abound and the local fare is divine.

From the scrumptious khao soi in Chiang Mai to the mouthwatering pork belly baos sold all over Taiwan, orgasmic specialties marked at one US dollar tempted me to go for seconds and thirds at every meal.

Hong Kong was a fish lover’s paradise: their sashimi is much cheaper and better than back stateside.

After two months of eating minimal amounts of seafood, I arrived in Hong Kong starved for raw fish. I spent my ten days there stuffing my face with raw salmon, skipjack tuna, scallops, and yellowtail while Hong Kongese families watched me in awe.

Vietnam was a challenge: the food was delicious but the portions were rather small and contained a lot more salad than protein.

As someone who was used to eating one pound of meat/fish on his most active days, I found Vietnam the most challenging of my stops. Half the time I was either hangry or eating three main courses and worrying about spending more than my backpacker budget allowed at the time (which, ironically, could mean I’d be starving later on).

The waitress starts by bringing me a host of side dishes (banchan), as is customary in Korea, and I quickly dig in. The fish cakes (eomuk mokkeum) are my favorite, and I end up ordering more when she comes back with a tray with enough meat to feed two people. Normal people, that is.

My table has a built-in Korean barbecue grill in the middle, and modern copper exhaust hood hangs above it.

Resisting the temptation to eat all the beef raw, I slab it on the grill along with several thick slices of pork belly. The assortment of banchan keeps me busy while I impatiently wait for the meat to cook through.

I’m ravenous. I flew into Korea at 5pm, from Taipei, and I haven’t eaten all day. ATMs kept rejecting my debit card and most places I tried my luck at didn’t accept credit cards.

Screw it. A little E. coli has never killed anyone.

It doesn’t take me too long to polish off all the fragrant meat, along with what was left of the third round of banchan.

‘You look happy! You full?’ My waitress asks when she returns with the check, and chuckles at all the empty plates before me.

I ate close to two pounds of barbecued meat, thirteen little plates of banchan, and a bowl of rice.

‘Almost. What’s for dessert?’

Are you a bottomless pit, too? Share your amusing food experiences on the road!

ACCOMMODATION
I stayed at Toyoko Inn Incheon Bupyeong when I was in Incheon and didn’t regret it. It’s right next to a metro station and smack dab in the middle of everything. Plus, the room was small but super cozy! I paid only $33 per night for a queen room with private bath.