Posted 2006-09-07
There are two types of structures inside a Korean restaurant: the use of chairs and taking off one's shoes and going on a kang.
When eating on the kang, men sit cross-legged and women stand on their right knee - this sitting style is only used when wearing hanbok. Nowadays, Korean women don't usually wear hanbok, so they just sit with their legs tucked together. After sitting down and ordering your food, it won't be long before an older woman from the restaurant comes to you with a tray, from which she removes first the cutlery and then the meal.
Koreans usually use stainless steel chopsticks with flat tips. Chinese and Japanese people have the habit of lifting their rice bowls to eat, but Koreans regard this behavior as unruly. Also, you cannot touch the bowl with your mouth. The bowl sits on the table with a round bottom and a lid, and there is no handle for you to hold it in your hand. The heat that the rice transfers to the bowl makes it reasonable not to touch it. As for the lid, you can take it off and leave it on the table.
Since you don't serve the bowl, your left hand must be obedient and honestly hide under the table, not to "show your hand" on the table. The right hand must first pick up the spoon, from the water kimchi in a mouthful of soup, and then use the spoon to eat a mouthful of rice, and then a mouthful of soup, and then eat a mouthful of rice, then you can eat anything. This is the order in which Koreans eat. Spoon is more important than chopsticks in Korean eating life, it is responsible for serving soup, fishing for vegetables in the soup, loading rice, and when not in use, it has to be set on the rice bowl or other eating utensils. And chopsticks? It's only responsible for picking up vegetables. No matter how much the bean sprouts in your soup bowl can't be fished out with a spoon, you can't use chopsticks. This is first of all a matter of etiquette, and secondly, there is a risk of the soup running down the chopsticks and onto the table. The traditional Korean practice is to put the chopsticks on the right-hand side of the table when they are not being used, and the two chopsticks should be together, with two-thirds on the table and one-third outside the table, in order to make it easier to pick them up and use them again.
Koreans are a good emotional people, for them to this kind of feelings through the meal performance, should give full understanding, but at the same time must be rationally recognized that it is a kind of unhygienic "food rituals".
Characteristics of the Korean diet
Korea's climate and terroir are suitable for agriculture, and as early as after the Neolithic era, the cultivation of mixed grains began, and then popularized the cultivation of rice. Since then, grains have been the center of Korean food culture, and in the late Three Kingdoms period, Korea's inherent homemade meals were formed with rice and vegetables as the main and side dishes. Later on, grain diets such as rice, congee, cakes, noodles, dumplings, katsu-iru, and wine were developed, and fermented diets such as soy sauce made from soybeans and then soy sauce were also developed. Not only cultivated vegetables, but also a wide variety of wild vegetables grown in the mountains and fields, which can be used to make coleslaw, rice balls, vegetables, kimchi, etc. to decorate the table with seasonal changes.
Historically, under the food concept of "medicine and food together", medicinal herbs such as ginger, cinnamon, wormwood, schizandra, goji berries, salvia, tangerine root, papaya, pomegranate, pomelo, and ginseng have been widely used in the cooking of food. There are various kinds of food such as ginseng chicken soup, moxa cake, salvia, gazpacho, and many kinds of beverages such as ginger tea, ginseng tea, papaya tea, pomelo tea, goji berry tea cassia seed tea, and tea. Seasonings and spices are also known as Yak Nim in Korea. It has been believed that onion, garlic, ginger, chili, sesame oil, sesame seeds have medicinal properties. The daily diet of Koreans is based on rice with a few dishes. The staple food is mainly rice and mixed grains made by mixing millet, barley, soybeans, pinto beans and other mixed grains.
Side dishes are mainly soups, miso soups, kimchi, sauces, and foods made with meat, flatfish, vegetables, and seaweed. This way of eating not only provides an even intake of various foods, but also achieves balanced nutrition.
Staple foods include rice, congee, noodles, dumplings, rice cake soup, and slice soup; side dishes include soup, miso soup, grilled, fried, miso meat, stir-fry, sliced meat, wild vegetables, vegetables, miso fish, dried fish, miso, stews, hot pots, kimchi, and many other kinds of food. In addition to this daily diet, there were also a wide variety of cakes, malts, tea, wine, and other diets. The development of miso, miso fish, and kimchi, which are fermented foods, has been promoted.
The Korean diet consists of daily meals that are repeated every day, foods that are served at ceremonies that are necessary throughout the life, foods that are served at festivals for a good year and a good catch, foods that are served at tribal festivals for the peace of the tribe, and foods that are served at festivals for the memory of those who have passed away. Seasonal foods are also prepared according to the seasons, utilizing the foods of the season. Korean seasonal food customs are formed by harmonizing the wisdom of man and nature, and they are also very scientific in terms of nutrition. For example, eating walnuts on the 15th day of the first month of the lunar calendar prevents sores for the whole year, which is based on the scientific theory that it replenishes the missing fatty acids and effectively prevents skin eruption, ringworm, and eczema. And spring eat spring wild vegetables, both the feeling of welcoming spring, but also to supplement the lack of vitamins due to winter.
It can be said that the local diet is based on local geographic and climatic characteristics of the production of regional specialties, is made by the ancestral cooking method of the authentic folk diet. In this way, the customs of the time of the year, the rituals, and the living practices that are carried out in each region are not only characterized by the local culture, but also have a great significance from the nutritional point of view.
In a class at Seoul National University's Korean Language Institute, a pretty female teacher taught about "meat," using pork, chicken and beef as examples. Jeff, a nice Australian student, interjected the word "dog meat". The teacher tries to make light of it, but the other students ask what it means.
Jeff proudly explained in English that it was dog meat. Immediately there were gasps of surprise, and the mouths of the American and Finnish students were half closed. The teacher then asked: Which country's people eat dog meat? Another Chinese student and I hesitantly raised our hands. The teacher asked the Mongolian student: Don't Mongolians eat dog meat? She probably thought that since Mongolia is neighboring China, their habits should be close to each other. The Mongolian girl, Ah Hao, said no loudly, and then added, "If you eat dog meat, don't you eat the meat of your friends? She used the word "friend" in the classroom, and she used it quite well, and her pronunciation was unprecedentedly accurate.
For a moment, the woman's expression was unnatural, as if all the embarrassment a nation has experienced over dog meat was written on her face. She mumbled and declared that in Korea, those who eat dog meat are all "a bad thing". The word is the Chinese equivalent of "old men," meaning married men in their late 40s with stubble on their faces. Vulgar, boozy, pot-bellied, big-headed.
This attitude of hers is the true mentality of a significant portion of the Korean population nowadays. Eating dog meat, drinking soju and singing with drums and basins is, in our minds, the traditional way of life for Koreans. Therefore, Seoul is supposed to be the home of dog meat restaurants. When you enter a restaurant, a bowl of dog meat soup comes to the table, the flavor is strong, the oil is thick, and the red chili peppers are hiding a dark heat, and you swallow a big mouthful of it, and the sweat comes out of your forehead, so it's really enjoyable.
But today you can't find a single dog meat restaurant on the main streets of Seoul, and that's because of the Olympics and the World Cup. When bidding for the Olympics and the World Cup, the competent South Koreans have done a great job with hardware and software, but they did not realize that a small appetite has become an obstacle in the race to host the event. Westerners are happy to treat dogs as their brothers, so they cannot tolerate people in the East who serve dogs as delicacies. The Koreans have argued that the dogs they eat are meat dogs, not pet dogs, but Westerners won't listen. This is where the so-called strong culture is unreasonable. Writer Lian Yue once for the South Koreans, said: dog meat restaurant is only temporarily closed, but the end of the World Cup, not all reopened, the business may be better, can not change the eating habits of the South Koreans, but also can not save the life of the dog, why bother?
The second half of Lien Yue's statement is speculative. After the World Cup, most of the dog meat restaurants in Seoul closed their doors, and those that reopened, went into the alleyways, just as the newspaper kiosks in some Chinese cities were driven into the alleys. After a few tosses and turns, not eating dog meat has really evolved into a fashion in Seoul. It's a fad that has to be contagious. It is important to realize that nearly half of the country's population lives in this city. The majority of people in Seoul don't eat it anymore, so you'd have to be very careful about saying that Korean eating habits can't be changed.
But as far as I know, there are some professors at Seoul University who occasionally go out to eat dog meat in groups. Most of them are Western-educated and understand the Western sentiment against Seoul's Olympic and Cup bids based on dog meat, but that doesn't stop them from secretly going to Seoul's hutongs to eat dog meat. They were dressed in suits, chewing on the table, but they had full happiness in their immobility. This kind of happiness, to exaggerate a little bit, is like the ancient times, a group of life and death partners, wearing animal skins, hiding in the depths of the dense forest, lit a bonfire, roasted captives.
Of course, there are also openly unconvincing. According to South Korean media reports, a professor at Chungcheong University, surnamed Ahn, presided over the development of dog sausage, canned dog meat, dog burgers. There's even a snow cream derived from dog oil, scientifically called a face cream, or serum, of course. In a word, he wants to vigorously advocate the dog culture, with high-tech development to call the shots with the West.
As Prof. Ahn held his press conference, members of the Seoul Citizens' Group Against Dog Meat held a rally outside the restaurant with slogans such as "Love Animals" and "Dog Meat is Not a Traditional Korean Diet. Dog meat is not a traditional food in Korea" and other slogans against Prof. Ahn. The news didn't say whether Prof. Ahn saw that second sign, but if he did, he might have thought, "You can say the sun is black because you've blindfolded yourself? You don't want to eat, you want to be in tune with the world, you can start with yourself, start now by not eating. But that's a bit of a dishonest attitude to have when you say you've never eaten at all.
In a class at Seoul University's Korean Language Institute, a pretty female teacher taught about "meat," using pork, chicken and beef as examples. Jeff, a nice Australian student, interjected the word "dog meat". The teacher tries to make light of it, but the other students ask what it means.
Jeff proudly explained in English that it was dog meat. Immediately there were gasps of surprise, and the mouths of the American and Finnish students were half closed. The teacher then asked: Which country's people eat dog meat? Another Chinese student and I hesitantly raised our hands. The teacher asked the Mongolian student: Don't Mongolians eat dog meat? She probably thought that since Mongolia is neighboring China, their habits should be close to each other. The Mongolian girl, Ah Hao, said no loudly, and then added, "If you eat dog meat, doesn't that mean you eat your friend's meat? She used the word "friend" in the classroom, and she used it quite well, and her pronunciation was unprecedentedly accurate.
For a moment, the woman's expression was unnatural, as if all the embarrassment a nation has experienced over dog meat was written on her face. She mumbled and declared that in Korea, those who eat dog meat are all "a bad thing". The word is the Chinese equivalent of "old men," meaning married men in their forties with stubble on their faces. Vulgar, boozy, pot-bellied, big-headed.
This attitude of hers is true to the current mentality of a significant portion of the Korean population. Eating dog meat, drinking soju and singing with drums and basins is, in our minds, the traditional way of life for Koreans. Therefore, Seoul is supposed to be the home of dog meat restaurants. When you enter a restaurant, a bowl of dog meat soup comes to the table, the flavor is strong, the oil is thick, and the red chili peppers are hiding a dark heat, and you swallow a big mouthful of it, and the sweat comes out of your forehead, so it's really enjoyable.
But today you can't find a single dog meat restaurant on the main streets of Seoul, and that's because of the Olympics and the World Cup. When bidding for the Olympics and the World Cup, the competent South Koreans made the hardware and software great, but did not expect that a small appetite has become an obstacle to the competition for the event. Westerners are happy to treat dogs as their brothers, so they cannot tolerate people in the East who serve dogs as delicacies. The Koreans have argued that the dogs they eat are meat dogs, not pet dogs, but Westerners won't listen. This is where the so-called strong culture is unreasonable. Writer Lian Yue once for the South Koreans, said: dog meat restaurant is only temporarily closed, but the end of the World Cup, not all reopened, the business may be better, can not change the eating habits of the South Koreans, but also can not save the life of the dog, why bother?
The second half of Lien Yue's statement is speculative. After the World Cup, most of the dog meat restaurants in Seoul closed their doors, and those that reopened have gone into the alleyways, just as the newspaper kiosks in some Chinese cities have been driven into the alleys and lanes. After a few tosses and turns, not eating dog meat has really evolved into a fashion in Seoul. It's a fad that has to be contagious. It is important to realize that nearly half of the country's population lives in this city. The majority of people in Seoul don't eat it anymore, so you'd have to be very careful if you say that Korean eating habits can't be changed.
But as far as I know, there are some professors at Seoul University who occasionally go out to eat dog meat in groups. Most of them are Western-educated and understand the Western sentiment against Seoul's Olympic and Cup bids based on dog meat, but that doesn't stop them from secretly going to Seoul's hutongs to eat dog meat. They were dressed in suits, chewing on the table, but they had full happiness in their immobility. This kind of happiness, to exaggerate a little bit, is like the ancient times, a group of life and death partners, wearing animal skins, hiding in the depths of the dense forest, lit a bonfire, roasted captives.
Of course, there are also openly unconvincing. According to South Korean media reports, a professor at Chungcheong University, surnamed Ahn, presided over the development of dog sausage, canned dog meat, dog burgers. There's even a snow cream derived from dog oil, scientifically called a face cream, or serum, of course. In a word, he wants to vigorously advocate the dog culture, with high-tech development to call the shots with the West.
As Prof. Ahn held his press conference, members of the Seoul Citizens' Group Against Dog Meat held a rally outside the restaurant with slogans such as "Love Animals" and "Dog Meat is Not a Traditional Korean Diet. Dog meat is not a traditional food in Korea" and other slogans against Prof. Ahn. The news didn't say whether Prof. Ahn saw that second sign, but if he did, he might have thought, "You can say the sun is black because you've blindfolded yourself? You don't want to eat, you want to be in tune with the world, you can start with yourself, start now by not eating. But that's a bit of a dishonest attitude to have when you say you don't eat at all.
In a class at Seoul University's Korean Language Institute, a pretty female teacher taught about "meat," using pork, chicken and beef as examples. Jeff, a nice Australian student, interjected the word "dog meat". The teacher tries to make light of it, but the other students ask what it means.
Jeff proudly explained in English that it was dog meat. Immediately there were gasps of surprise, and the mouths of the American and Finnish students were half closed. The teacher then asked: Which country's people eat dog meat? Another Chinese student and I hesitantly raised our hands. The teacher asked the Mongolian student: Don't Mongolians eat dog meat? She probably thought that since Mongolia is neighboring China, their habits should be close to each other. The Mongolian girl, Ah Hao, said no loudly, and then added, "If you eat dog meat, doesn't that mean you eat your friend's meat? She used the word "friend" in the classroom, and she used it quite well, and her pronunciation was unprecedentedly accurate.
For a moment, the woman's expression was unnatural, as if all the embarrassment a nation has experienced over dog meat was written on her face. She mumbled and declared that in Korea, those who eat dog meat are all "a bad thing". The word is the Chinese equivalent of "old men," meaning married men in their late 40s with stubble on their faces. Vulgar, boozy, pot-bellied, big-headed.
This attitude of hers is the true mentality of a significant portion of the Korean population nowadays. Eating dog meat, drinking soju and singing with drums and basins is, in our minds, the traditional way of life for Koreans. Therefore, Seoul is supposed to be the home of dog meat restaurants. When you enter a restaurant, a bowl of dog meat soup comes to the table, the flavor is strong, the oil is thick, and the red chili peppers are hiding a dark heat, and you swallow a big mouthful of it, and the sweat comes out of your forehead, so it's really enjoyable.
But today you can't find a single dog meat restaurant on the main streets of Seoul, and that's because of the Olympics and the World Cup. When bidding for the Olympics and the World Cup, the competent South Koreans have done a great job with the hardware and software, but they didn't realize that a small appetite had become an obstacle in the race to host the event. Westerners are happy to treat dogs as their brothers, so they cannot tolerate people in the East who serve dogs as delicacies. The Koreans have argued that the dogs they eat are meat dogs, not pet dogs, but Westerners won't listen. This is where the so-called strong culture is unreasonable. Writer Lian Yue once for the South Koreans, said: dog meat restaurant is only temporarily closed, but the end of the World Cup, not all reopened, the business may be better, can not change the eating habits of the South Koreans, but also can not save the life of the dog, why bother?
The second half of Lien Yue's statement is speculative. After the World Cup, most of the dog meat restaurants in Seoul closed their doors, and those that reopened have gone into the alleyways, just as the newspaper kiosks in some Chinese cities have been driven into the alleys. After a few tosses and turns, not eating dog meat has really evolved into a fashion in Seoul. It's a fad that has to be contagious. It is important to realize that nearly half of the country's population lives in this city. The majority of people in Seoul don't eat it anymore, so you'd have to be very careful if you say that Korean eating habits can't be changed.
But as far as I know, there are some professors at Seoul University who occasionally go out to eat dog meat in groups. Most of them are Western-educated and understand the Western sentiment against Seoul's Olympic and Cup bids based on dog meat, but that doesn't stop them from secretly going to Seoul's hutongs to eat dog meat. They were dressed in suits, chewing on the table, but they had full happiness in their immobility. This kind of happiness, to exaggerate a little bit, is like the ancient times, a group of life and death partners, wearing animal skins, hiding in the depths of the dense forest, lit a bonfire, roasted captives.
Of course, there are also openly unconvincing. According to South Korean media reports, a professor at Chungcheong University, surnamed Ahn, presided over the development of dog sausage, canned dog meat, dog burgers. There's even a snow cream derived from dog oil, scientifically called a face cream, or serum, of course. In a word, he wants to vigorously advocate the dog culture, with high-tech development to call the shots with the West.
As Prof. Ahn held his press conference, members of the Seoul Citizens' Group Against Dog Meat held a rally outside the restaurant with slogans such as "Love Animals" and "Dog Meat is Not a Traditional Korean Diet. Dog meat is not a traditional food in Korea" and other slogans against Prof. Ahn. The news didn't say whether Prof. Ahn saw that second sign, but if he did, he might have thought, "You can say the sun is black because you've blindfolded yourself? You don't want to eat, you want to be in tune with the world, you can start with yourself, start now by not eating. But that's a bit of a dishonest attitude to have when you say you don't eat at all.
In a class at Seoul University's Korean Language Institute, the pretty female teacher taught about "meat," using pork, chicken and beef as examples. Jeff, a nice Australian student, interjected the word "dog meat". The teacher tries to make light of it, but the other students ask what it means.
Jeff proudly explained in English that it was dog meat. Immediately, there were gasps of surprise, and the mouths of the American and Finnish students were half closed. The teacher then asked: Which country's people eat dog meat? Another Chinese student and I hesitantly raised our hands. The teacher asked the Mongolian student: Don't Mongolians eat dog meat? She probably thought that since Mongolia is neighboring China, their habits should be close to each other. The Mongolian girl, Ah Hao, said no loudly, and then added, "If you eat dog meat, doesn't that mean you eat your friend's meat? She used the word "friend" in the classroom, and she used it quite well, and her pronunciation was unprecedentedly accurate.
For a moment, the woman's expression was unnatural, as if all the embarrassment a nation has experienced over dog meat was written on her face. She mumbled and declared that in Korea, those who eat dog meat are all "a bad thing". The word is the Chinese equivalent of "old men," meaning married men in their forties with stubble on their faces. Vulgar, boozy, pot-bellied, big-headed.
This attitude of hers is the true mentality of a significant portion of the Korean population nowadays. Eating dog meat, drinking soju and singing with drums and basins is, in our minds, the traditional way of life for Koreans. Therefore, Seoul is supposed to be the home of dog meat restaurants. When you enter a restaurant, a bowl of dog meat soup comes to the table, the flavor is strong, the oil is thick, and the red chili peppers are hiding a dark heat, and you swallow a big mouthful of it, and the sweat comes out of your forehead, so it's really enjoyable.
But today you can't find a single dog meat restaurant on the main streets of Seoul, and that's because of the Olympics and the World Cup. When bidding for the Olympics and the World Cup, the competent South Koreans have done a great job with the hardware and software, but they didn't realize that a small appetite had become an obstacle in the race to host the event. Westerners are happy to treat dogs as their brothers, so they cannot tolerate people in the East who serve dogs as delicacies. The Koreans have argued that the dogs they eat are meat dogs, not pet dogs, but Westerners won't listen. This is where the so-called strong culture is unreasonable. Writer Lian Yue once for the South Koreans, said: dog meat restaurant is only temporarily closed, but the end of the World Cup, not all reopened, the business may be better, can not change the eating habits of the South Koreans, but also can not save the life of the dog, why bother?
The second half of Lien Yue's statement is speculative. After the World Cup, most of the dog meat restaurants in Seoul closed their doors, and those that reopened have gone into the alleyways, just as the newspaper kiosks in some Chinese cities have been driven into the alleys. After a few tosses and turns, not eating dog meat has really evolved into a fashion in Seoul. It's a fad that has to be contagious. It is important to realize that nearly half of the country's population lives in this city. The majority of people in Seoul don't eat it anymore, so you'd have to be very careful if you say that Korean eating habits can't be changed.
But as far as I know, there are some professors at Seoul University who occasionally go out to eat dog meat in groups. Most of them are Western-educated and understand the Western sentiment against Seoul's Olympic and Cup bids based on dog meat, but that doesn't stop them from secretly going to Seoul's hutongs to eat dog meat. They were dressed in suits, chewing on the table, but they had full happiness in their immobility. This kind of happiness, to exaggerate a little bit, is like the ancient times, a group of life and death partners, wearing animal skins, hiding in the depths of the dense forest, lit a bonfire, roasted captives.
Of course, there are also openly unconvincing. According to South Korean media reports, a professor at Chungcheong University, surnamed Ahn, presided over the development of dog sausage, canned dog meat, dog burgers. There's even a snow cream derived from dog oil, scientifically called a face cream, or serum, of course. In a word, he wants to vigorously advocate the dog culture, with high-tech development to call the shots with the West.
As Prof. Ahn held his press conference, members of the Seoul Citizens' Group Against Dog Meat held a rally outside the restaurant with slogans such as "Love Animals" and "Dog Meat is Not a Traditional Korean Diet. Dog meat is not a traditional food in Korea" and other slogans against Prof. Ahn. The news didn't say whether Prof. Ahn saw that second sign, but if he did, he might have thought, "You can say the sun is black because you've blindfolded yourself? You don't want to eat, you want to be in tune with the world, you can start with yourself, start now by not eating. But that's a bit of a dishonest attitude to have when you say you've never eaten at all.
In a class at Seoul University's Korean Language Institute, the pretty female teacher taught about "meat," using pork, chicken and beef as examples. Jeff, a nice Australian student, interjected the word "dog meat". The teacher tries to make light of it, but the other students ask what it means.
Jeff proudly explained in English that it was dog meat. Immediately, there were gasps of surprise, and the mouths of the American and Finnish students were half closed. The teacher then asked: Which country's people eat dog meat? Another Chinese student and I hesitantly raised our hands. The teacher asked the Mongolian student: Don't Mongolians eat dog meat? She probably thought that since Mongolia is neighboring China, their habits should be close to each other. The Mongolian girl, Ah Hao, said no loudly, and then added, "If you eat dog meat, doesn't that mean you eat your friend's meat? She used the word "friend" in the classroom, and she used it quite well, and her pronunciation was unprecedentedly accurate.
For a moment, the woman's expression was unnatural, as if all the embarrassment a nation has experienced over dog meat was written on her face. She mumbled and declared that in Korea, those who eat dog meat are all "a bad thing". The word is the Chinese equivalent of "old men," meaning married men in their late 40s with stubble on their faces. Vulgar, boozy, pot-bellied, big-headed.
This attitude of hers is true to the current mentality of a significant portion of the Korean population. Eating dog meat, drinking soju and singing with drums and basins is, in our minds, the traditional way of life for Koreans. Therefore, Seoul is supposed to be the home of dog meat restaurants. When you enter a restaurant, a bowl of dog meat soup comes to the table, the flavor is strong, the oil is thick, the red chili peppers are hidden under the dark hot, quickly swallow a big mouthful of sweat immediately out of the forehead, that's what is so refreshing.
But today you can't find a single dog meat restaurant on the main streets of Seoul, and that's because of the Olympics and the World Cup. When bidding for the Olympics and the World Cup, the competent South Koreans have done a great job with the hardware and software, but they didn't realize that a small appetite had become an obstacle in the race to host the event. Westerners are happy to treat dogs as their brothers, so they cannot tolerate people in the East who serve dogs as delicacies. The Koreans have argued that the dogs they eat are meat dogs, not pet dogs, but Westerners won't listen. This is where the so-called strong culture is unreasonable. Writer Lian Yue once for the South Koreans, said: dog meat restaurant is only temporarily closed, but the end of the World Cup, not all reopened, the business may be better, can not change the eating habits of the South Koreans, but also can not save the life of the dog, why bother?
The second half of Lien Yue's statement is speculative. After the World Cup, most of the dog meat restaurants in Seoul closed their doors, and those that reopened, went into the alleyways, just as the newspaper kiosks in some Chinese cities were driven into the alleys. After a few tosses and turns, not eating dog meat has really evolved into a fashion in Seoul. It's a fad that has to be contagious. It is important to realize that nearly half of the country's population lives in this city. The majority of people in Seoul don't eat it anymore, so you'd have to be very careful about saying that Korean eating habits can't be changed.
But as far as I know, there are some professors at Seoul University who occasionally go out to eat dog meat in groups. Most of them are Western-educated and understand the Western sentiment against Seoul's Olympic and Cup bids based on dog meat, but that doesn't stop them from secretly going to Seoul's hutongs to eat dog meat. They were dressed in suits, chewing on the table, but they had full happiness in their immobility. This kind of happiness, to exaggerate a little bit, is like the ancient times, a group of life and death partners, wearing animal skins, hiding in the depths of the dense forest, lit a bonfire, roasted captives.
Of course, there are also openly unconvincing. According to South Korean media reports, a professor at Chungcheong University, surnamed Ahn, presided over the development of dog sausage, canned dog meat, dog burgers. There's even a snow cream derived from dog oil, scientifically called a face cream, or serum, of course. In a word, he wants to vigorously advocate the dog culture, with high-tech development to call the shots with the West.
As Prof. Ahn held his press conference, members of the Seoul Citizens' Group Against Dog Meat held a rally outside the restaurant with slogans such as "Love Animals" and "Dog Meat is Not a Traditional Korean Diet. Dog meat is not a traditional food in Korea" and other slogans against Prof. Ahn. The news didn't say whether Prof. Ahn saw that second sign, but if he did, he might have thought, "You can say the sun is black because you've blindfolded yourself? You don't want to eat, you want to be in tune with the world, you can start with yourself, start now by not eating. But that's a bit of a dishonest attitude to have when you say you've never eaten at all.
In a class at Seoul University's Korean Language Institute, the pretty female teacher taught about "meat," using pork, chicken and beef as examples. Jeff, a nice Australian student, interjected the word "dog meat". The teacher tries to make light of it, but the other students ask what it means.
Jeff proudly explained in English that it was dog meat. Immediately, there were gasps of surprise, and the mouths of the American and Finnish students were half closed. The teacher then asked: Which country's people eat dog meat? Another Chinese student and I hesitantly raised our hands. The teacher asked the Mongolian student: Don't Mongolians eat dog meat? She probably thought that since Mongolia is neighboring China, their habits should be close to each other. The Mongolian girl, Ah Hao, said no loudly, and then added, "If you eat dog meat, doesn't that mean you eat your friend's meat? She used the word "friend" in the classroom, and she used it quite well, and her pronunciation was unprecedentedly accurate.
For a moment, the woman's expression was unnatural, as if all the embarrassment a nation has experienced over dog meat was written on her face. She mumbled and declared that in Korea, those who eat dog meat are all "a bad thing". The word is the Chinese equivalent of "old men," meaning married men in their late 40s with stubble on their faces. Vulgar, boozy, pot-bellied, big-headed.
This attitude of hers is true to the present-day mentality of a significant portion of the Korean population. Eating dog meat, drinking soju and singing with drums and basins is, in our minds, the traditional way of life for Koreans. Therefore, Seoul is supposed to be the home of dog meat restaurants. When you enter a restaurant, a bowl of dog meat soup comes to the table, the flavor is strong, the oil is thick, and the red chili peppers are hiding a dark heat, and you swallow a big mouthful of it, and the sweat comes out of your forehead, so it's really enjoyable.
But today you can't find a single dog meat restaurant on the main streets of Seoul, and that's because of the Olympics and the World Cup. When bidding for the Olympics and the World Cup, the competent South Koreans have done a great job with the hardware and software, but they didn't realize that a small appetite had become an obstacle in the race to host the event. Westerners are happy to treat dogs as their brothers, so they cannot tolerate people in the East who serve dogs as delicacies. The Koreans have argued that the dogs they eat are meat dogs, not pet dogs, but Westerners won't listen. This is where the so-called strong culture is unreasonable. Writer Lian Yue once for the South Koreans, said: dog meat restaurant is only temporarily closed, but the end of the World Cup, not all reopened, the business may be better, can not change the eating habits of the South Koreans, but also can not save the life of the dog, why bother?
The second half of Lien Yue's statement is speculative. After the World Cup, most of the dog meat restaurants in Seoul closed their doors, and those that reopened, went into the alleyways, just as the newspaper kiosks in some Chinese cities were driven into the alleys. After a few tosses and turns, not eating dog meat has really evolved into a fashion in Seoul. It's a fad that has to be contagious. It is important to realize that nearly half of the country's population lives in this city. The majority of people in Seoul don't eat it anymore, so you'd have to be very careful about saying that Korean eating habits can't be changed.
But as far as I know, there are some professors at Seoul University who occasionally go out to eat dog meat in groups. Most of them are Western-educated and understand the Western sentiment against Seoul's Olympic and Cup bids based on dog meat, but that doesn't stop them from secretly going to Seoul's hutongs to eat dog meat. They were dressed in suits, chewing on the table, but they had full happiness in their immobility. This kind of happiness, to exaggerate a little bit, is like the ancient times, a group of life and death partners, wearing animal skins, hiding in the depths of the dense forest, lit a bonfire, roasted captives.
Of course, there are also openly unconvincing. According to South Korean media reports, a professor at Chungcheong University, surnamed Ahn, presided over the development of dog sausage, canned dog meat, dog burgers. There's even a snow cream derived from dog oil, scientifically called a face cream, or serum, of course. In a word, he wants to vigorously advocate the dog culture, with high-tech development to call the shots with the West.
Just as Prof. Ahn was holding his press conference, a member of the Seoul Citizens' Group Against Dog Meat