My senses were overwhelmed. There was a stagnant smell of blood lingering in the air, chilled not from the winter wind but from open cold lockers that lined the pathways. The perpetual drone of electric meat saws muted the sounds of knives being sharpened. Butchers worked on carcasses, separating ribs from short loin, chuck from brisket, and sirloin from round. I walked on soaked pavement, past buckets of tripe soaked in brine and innards emitting a claret-red glow under cold fluorescent lights.
A woman, roughly my aunt’s age I estimated, called me over to her stall to inspect her selection. She looked like an aunt – I even called her aunt.
Like many of the neighboring vendors, the woman showcased only Hanwoo beef in a variety of cuts. Hanwoo is Korean cattle raised in a manner comparable to that of their more famed Wagyu counterparts in Japan. They are fed a strict vegetarian diet, bred to maintain certain traits and pedigree, and subjected to a discriminating grading system.
I meticulously inspected the meats and compared the marbling of fat between the various cuts before coming to a conclusion. But I did not inform the woman right away of my decision. Standard Korean procedure needed to be followed – negotiations on price needed to take place first.
After business was settled, the woman directed my purchase and I to a restaurant located a floor above the retailers. It was like any other Korean barbecue restaurant one would find in Seoul – there was that familiar smell of grilled meat, soju and cigarettes.
Patrons were responsible for bringing their own meat. ‘BYOM,’ would that be the correct phrase? The restaurant however would be there to provide the other essential fixings for a Korean meal: banchan, kimchi, dwaenjang jjigae, naengmyeon and of course, soju.
The meat was ready after a quick sizzle on the skillet, prepared without the aid of marinade or sauce. Doing so would have overwhelmed the delicate savor of the beef. I left the lettuce wraps and spring onions for another day, as it would only have distracted me from the meat’s natural succulence.