Koreans to Pinback: WE DON'T SERVE YOUR KIND!
Posted: Mon May 16, 2005 12:42 pm
I found a wonderful, wonderful store in Fairfax, called the Super-H Mart. It is essentially an Asian grocery store, but the size of a gigantic supermarket -- bigger, in fact, than your everyday Safeway or Food Lion or whatever you have out there. It's enormous. The "produce" section is at least half a football field. There are aisles and aisles and aisles of stuff you've never even heard of, much less would consider eating. An entire corner of the store is dedicated to kimchee, with two people doing nothing but making fresh kimchee all day. I found two entire shelves of boiled fern. The "boiled fern" section, I suppose. The seafood section is a dizzying array of fresh, whole fish lying out in rows and rows of bins packed with ice. Live scary-looking things writhe and squirm in their tanks, while fish hawks bellow specials over bullhorns ("Fiii minute! Jumbo shrimp, $5.99 pound, fiii mo minute!") And this is all before you even get to the rice aisle, which, forget it.
I spent nearly a half hour in the place just browsing -- not buying anything, just walking around agog at the scenery. One entire wall of the produce section is taken up by little stalls where you can buy cooked food, and then head to the little counters set up behind them where you can chow down on your fresh goodies.
One of the places offered Korean dishes. I took a look at the menu up above the window, and decided, hey, I could go for a little bite. The first item ("#1") was described as "fish roe & vegetables in a spicy broth". Well, that sounds right up my alley!
I approach the cashier. "I'd like a number one, please."
Now, keep in mind that, I am by far the tallest person in the entire store, if you catch my drift. (Also the best driver, if you continue to catch my drift.) So I order the "number one", and the guy looks me up and down and goes: "Uhh, you know diss, numba one!?" I say, "Nope." He says, "Ahhh, how bout ahhh... numba *two*?"
I say, "Number one no good?"
"Ahh, issa fish roe, ahh." I say, "Yeah, I know."
"Iss veeelly spicy!!"
At this point, I'm like, nigga please. Gimme the "numba one" 'fore I slap you upside yo yellow, slopey head.
He eyes me nervously one more time and then finally acquiesces. "Ohhhkaay!"
Five minutes later, a burbling stone bowl at a full rolling boil, full of every shade of red known to man, is presented to me on a plastic cafeteria tray, along with a steel round of steamed rice and two small bowls of kimchee.
I lugged it over to the counter, and spent the next fifteen minutes sitting among the "natives", happily chopsticking away, round eyes misting over from the steam...
I spent nearly a half hour in the place just browsing -- not buying anything, just walking around agog at the scenery. One entire wall of the produce section is taken up by little stalls where you can buy cooked food, and then head to the little counters set up behind them where you can chow down on your fresh goodies.
One of the places offered Korean dishes. I took a look at the menu up above the window, and decided, hey, I could go for a little bite. The first item ("#1") was described as "fish roe & vegetables in a spicy broth". Well, that sounds right up my alley!
I approach the cashier. "I'd like a number one, please."
Now, keep in mind that, I am by far the tallest person in the entire store, if you catch my drift. (Also the best driver, if you continue to catch my drift.) So I order the "number one", and the guy looks me up and down and goes: "Uhh, you know diss, numba one!?" I say, "Nope." He says, "Ahhh, how bout ahhh... numba *two*?"
I say, "Number one no good?"
"Ahh, issa fish roe, ahh." I say, "Yeah, I know."
"Iss veeelly spicy!!"
At this point, I'm like, nigga please. Gimme the "numba one" 'fore I slap you upside yo yellow, slopey head.
He eyes me nervously one more time and then finally acquiesces. "Ohhhkaay!"
Five minutes later, a burbling stone bowl at a full rolling boil, full of every shade of red known to man, is presented to me on a plastic cafeteria tray, along with a steel round of steamed rice and two small bowls of kimchee.
I lugged it over to the counter, and spent the next fifteen minutes sitting among the "natives", happily chopsticking away, round eyes misting over from the steam...