Neon Streets and Japanese Eats: Dining in Seomyeon

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Late one evening a couple weeks ago I caught the subway to Seomyeon with Jason, Bryan and Dianna–three of the five teachers who make up my awesome American teaching posse.  Jason’s lived here six months; it was Bryan and Dianna’s second night in town. 

In the maze of people-packed, neon-lit streets, we couldn’t find the Turkish restaurant Jason hoped to lead us to, so we slipped into a smoky Japanese joint, befriended four bar stools, and feasted on plates of steaming skewers. 

Other than the beef surprise I picked out of my udon noodles, and an unfortunate head attached to my mackeral pike, the experience left me intrigued: Korea’s culinary offerings provide mystery for both the palette and the eye.

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Late one evening a couple weeks ago I caught the subway to Seomyeon with Jason, Bryan and Dianna–three of the five teachers who make up my awesome American teaching posse.  Jason’s lived here six months; it was Bryan and Dianna’s second night in town. 

In the maze of people-packed, neon-lit streets, we couldn’t find the Turkish restaurant Jason hoped to lead us to, so we slipped into a smoky Japanese joint, befriended four bar stools, and feasted on plates of steaming skewers. 

Other than the beef surprise I picked out of my udon noodles, and an unfortunate head attached to my mackeral pike, the experience left me intrigued: Korea’s culinary offerings provide mystery for both the palette and the eye.

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Scroll down for two new pics from Cornell class:  Daniel and Jason, 6-year-old boys who remind me daily that patience is a teacher’s greatest tool.  (Sometimes it can be found in a Friday-night sip of soju!)



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