Experimentation, and Failing To Be Successful
Sometimes, in a country where you don't really have a clue what is written on packages and you are forced to rely on pictures or what other people have informed you is good, you impishly decide that yes today is the day when you will indeed try something new, and you most probably won't have a notion about what it is.
That was quite a dramatic opening for the actual subject content - icecream. The Koreans are purveyors of the very sweet to the teeth-crumpling-on-impact hyper-sugar type foods - they even sprinkle sugar on garlic bread. Which is gross to the extreme, might I add, having being fooled by the savoury smell and the innocuously sprinkled herbs. However, this was nothing compared to the concoction which I unfortunately bit into today. I will now list out the three different layers of this icecream and see if anyone else finds it appealing.
1) Mild coffee flavoured ice cream on the outside (ok, so far)
2) The next layer was particularly thick chocolate (fine, I guess, a little hard to bite through)
3) Then - the piece de resistance - below the chocolate was a sizeable solid tube of hard lemon sweet, much like a lemon lollipop, with unidentifiable things suspended inside (presumably more oddly flavoured candy). At this point I abandoned the cursed thing next to a tree, which will probably die when the melted goo is washed into its roots.
I shall start to frequent Baskin and Robbins more, methinks, and choose icecreams that are white, clearly labelled and almost definitely vanilla.
Other Korean oddities that I have been subjected to recently: I was being taught how to swim by agemmas (a respectful term for older women in Korea) this morning, as my technique was too splashy; going shopping in Dongdaemun until two in the morning and laughing at T-shirts with 'English' phrases such as 'Life happy success base rocket noble' ;being taken to a park for tae-kwon do by our eccentric Master, where we did a series of bad sit-ups, played badminton (after he stole the rackets of a pair of kids immersed in their game) and were generally laughed at by nearby Koreans in normal dress; had a barbeque with said Master and his neighbours, a veritable community of blokes in covers bands, and Mike did a 'one-shot' of soju before we even made it to the lesson.
It really is a case of having to laugh at yourself (even if there is a note of shrill hysteria to it) to save yourself from ever questioning things too much.
That was quite a dramatic opening for the actual subject content - icecream. The Koreans are purveyors of the very sweet to the teeth-crumpling-on-impact hyper-sugar type foods - they even sprinkle sugar on garlic bread. Which is gross to the extreme, might I add, having being fooled by the savoury smell and the innocuously sprinkled herbs. However, this was nothing compared to the concoction which I unfortunately bit into today. I will now list out the three different layers of this icecream and see if anyone else finds it appealing.
1) Mild coffee flavoured ice cream on the outside (ok, so far)
2) The next layer was particularly thick chocolate (fine, I guess, a little hard to bite through)
3) Then - the piece de resistance - below the chocolate was a sizeable solid tube of hard lemon sweet, much like a lemon lollipop, with unidentifiable things suspended inside (presumably more oddly flavoured candy). At this point I abandoned the cursed thing next to a tree, which will probably die when the melted goo is washed into its roots.
I shall start to frequent Baskin and Robbins more, methinks, and choose icecreams that are white, clearly labelled and almost definitely vanilla.
Other Korean oddities that I have been subjected to recently: I was being taught how to swim by agemmas (a respectful term for older women in Korea) this morning, as my technique was too splashy; going shopping in Dongdaemun until two in the morning and laughing at T-shirts with 'English' phrases such as 'Life happy success base rocket noble' ;being taken to a park for tae-kwon do by our eccentric Master, where we did a series of bad sit-ups, played badminton (after he stole the rackets of a pair of kids immersed in their game) and were generally laughed at by nearby Koreans in normal dress; had a barbeque with said Master and his neighbours, a veritable community of blokes in covers bands, and Mike did a 'one-shot' of soju before we even made it to the lesson.
It really is a case of having to laugh at yourself (even if there is a note of shrill hysteria to it) to save yourself from ever questioning things too much.
posted by Korrena at 11:54 PM
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