Sweet Sushi Story

I've been here in Korea for three weeks now and already I’ve gotten into a weekly schedule. Normally, I get out of work at 7:30pm and start looking for something to eat. Bella and I go out a couple nights a week to a new restaurant, which is always fun; however, I’ve already found a place that I can call mine. Within a 10 minute walk from my apartment, I can eat almost any type of food. There’s pasta, pizza, hamburgers, Korean style restaurants, street vendors and, yes, sushi.

I’ve been frequenting a sushi restaurant that serves tuna exclusively. I know it doesn’t sound terribly appealing because there isn’t much variety, but I am a man who enjoys a static staple when it comes to comfort food. In America, I believe my friends and I would use a Chinese Buffet as our comfort spot. And here, I’ve found this sushi joint.

Inside, it isn’t very large. There is one long ‘L’ shaped bar that extends the entire length of the restaurant. There are a total of five employees: one manager/sushi chef, one waiter, one busboy, one cashier and one soup/salad server. In the corner behind the bar is a small television and the background music consists of temporary/oldie American pop music. The lights are normally turned down low. Low enough that the first few times I walked up to the glass entrance door, I thought it was closed.

The first time I sat down, I ordered ‘cham-chi bab’ (tuna rice). I couldn’t pronounce the full name of the item I wanted to order, but through creative charades I was able to achieve the order I was looking for. During a standard meal I would be given a shredded salad followed by miso soup and a cup of water. This would be followed by my sushi order of 12 pieces of tuna. I would get all of this for the price of 10,000 won (about 8.50). If I felt like ordering a bottle of soda, an additional 1,000 won would be added.

The meal I had yesterday was slightly different. If I had to put a number on it, I would say it was my eighth visit in 3 weeks. It’s a lot, but it’s really good. I swear. At this point (and for the previous 2 or 3 visits), I haven’t needed to order anything. They know what I want without me saying anything. After finishing my soup and salad, I was promptly given a refill on them. While still eating my second helping of them, the waitress brought me a new dish that I hadn’t ordered. “For me?” I said. The lady nodded ‘yes’. She said the Korean word for ‘spoon’ and pointed at it.

The dish was centered on a wooden block in a skillet, much like a fajita would be served. The food appeared to have been a traditional soufflé of corn, peas and what tasted like marshmallows. The waitress, who had apparently also made the meal, stood over me as a chef would stand over a critic. It was delicious. In the middle of the soufflé, the sushi chef brought over my tuna dish. Additionally, the busboy/waiter asked if I wanted a vegetable hand-roll to go with my food. “Nay, nay, nay,” (Korean for ‘yes, yes, yes’) I said. I was given king status and everything tasted equally amazing.

After eating everything in front of me, I leaned back, closed my eyes and couldn’t help feeling completely satisfied. The entire five person staff was standing in front of me trying to communicate with me in Konglish. That’s the Korean equivalent of Spanglish. I didn’t make that up, it’s apparently a real thing. They wanted to know everything about me: where I was from, my name, age, occupation, location of my apartment and school. It was a little difficult to communicate with them, but I managed quite well. I mean, at this point I am kind of used to it.

Upon leaving the restaurant, I was charged 11,000 won for my meal and soda. I would have given a tip, however, you must remember that here a tip is considered disrespectful. They were happy to have given me the food and were thanking me for my consistent business. Plus, I became friends with them, as well as a regular customer. Before stepping out of the door, I told them that I was going to Seoul this weekend and that I would see them again on Monday.