I prefer food without a face, please.

After our Smithsonian adventures Heidi and I started making plans to do dinner on Friday night. We had originally discussed going to Philly to get a cheese steak, but since Heidi had been ill recently, she wasn't up for the trip. Instead she asked if I had ever been to a Korean barbecue. As you know, the mere mention of barbecue makes my ears perk up. Since I am from southeastern NC I think barbecue is clearly a gift from God. Sadly, my years of barbecue exile in Georgia has left me wary of what most people call "barbecue." I have had Mongolian barbecue. I like it, but it doesn't like me. I've had Chinese and Japanese "barbecue" as well. So I figured what the heck, lets go for it! Prior to leaving to join up with Heidi I asked my sis-in-law if she'd ever been to a Korean barbecue. She's been to culinary school and is my "go to girl" when it comes to food. She replied she'd never been but wanted to go and was a full recap of my adventure. I then turned to my brother who has lived and/or visited countries all over the world. He didn't have a vast amount of details but simply advised me that if I stick with beef, I should be OK. In particular a dish called "bulgogi." Armed with this valuable information, I went to meet Heidi and off we went. She had already picked out the place we were going. Heidi then explained that I was the first white person she'd ever invited to Korean barbecue who actually said yes. Apparently it's a top notch Korean barbecue named Yechon.This place is apparently a 24 hour Korean barbecue. Given the overwhelming Korean population in Annandale, there's Korean food places everywhere. When I remarked that this must be the equivalent of a Korean Waffle House. Heidi then frowned and said that Waffle Houses were nasty and she couldn't believe I ate there. After what I was about to experience in a Korean barbecue, I think Heidi owes me, or Waffle House an apology. The link is worth following for the music, if not for the adventure of reading their menu. After consulting with Heidi on the menu. I told her I basically had 2 rules for what to get: No fish Nothing blazing hot I am not a sissy. I eat the hottest buffalo wings on the menu usually. There is however a difference. Buffalo wing heat is a good honest heat that punches you square in the nose. You see it coming, and eventually you can put the fire out with enough water, celery, and ranch dressing. Asian heat, however, sneaks up behind you and whacks you at the base of the skull with a baseball bat. It hurts enough to make you cry and it doesn't go away. With these two rules, Heidi then started pointing out various things on the menu. It was then that I felt the need to add two "guidelines" to my two previous "rules:" I prefer my food not have a face. My food needs to have been dead before I walked in the door. These guidelines grew out of prior experience with friends who do eat Asian cuisine. As you know from reading this blog over the years I am not squeamish, and will frankly try most things at least once. There's no need to review my food fiascoes at this point. I held on to my brother's suggestion and chose the Bulgogi. (Its in the menu on the left, in the BBQ section. And I'll forgive their improper spelling of barbecue since they're Korean.) I like to believe I am very open minded about food. But then the Banchan arrived. After we placed our order, since we were having the barbecue, a "grill" was then placed on our table. I use the term grill loosely, as it appeared to me to be a car hub cap on a Coleman camping stove. Then minutes later, another waitress came to cover our table front to back and end to end with small white dishes fill with what can be best described as things recovered from last night's trash. This is Bulgogi and Banchan (not my picture) With the 10 dishes of unknown stuff, plus a small covered metal bowl or rice, some miso soup for each of us, the waitress/cook then brought the big plate of Bulgogi and another of Juk Mul Luk Gul for Heidi. She tossed a big pile on the hot hubcap and the feast began. It began with a million questions. Well actually it was one question a million times:What the heck is that?!?The funny part was that I could clearly identify one dish: macaroni salad. I'm no expert but I am quite sure macaroni salad is not traditional Korean food. Heidi then explained that the banchan changes regularly so you can't ever be 100% sure what you would get. Here's a website with a wide assortment of banchan. It was at that point the Russian Roulette began. I would point at something and ask what it was. I was usually greeted with a blank stare, a shrug , or the occasional "I don't know, go for it!" Deep down I knew the red pile of stuff would be hot. Red is the universal color of hot. I decided to start there and hopefully have enough time to recover from the heat. After stuffing down a mouthful of what I now know was kim chi. Heidi informed me what it was and that it was "the hottest thing on the table." Rather than waving me off, she decided to let me dive in. At least now I know it can't get any worse. I also have a great deal of difficulty comprehending "worse." Another dish I had decided was either some kind of mushrooms or fish so I was avoiding it. Heidi also said she didn't know what it was. It was only later, after she'd coaxed me into trying it, that she informed me she didn't know what it was but she didn't like it. Again she suckered me in. It had the texture of thin shoe leather. The best we can figure is that it was skate (the manta-ray looking fish). One dish I swear looked as if someone had made Jello with dirty dishwater. It tasted as if someone had made Jello with dirty dishwater. There was a fluffy egg type dish, served cold. Come to think of it I believe all of the banchan was served cold. In hindsight this meal was about what I might expect out of Heidi: always an adventure. Next time I get up in that direction we've agreed that it's Philly Cheese Steak time and it might also be Philly Cheesecake time, to, if I get up there with enough time to make one. I will resist the urge to put fermented cabbage or fish eyeballs in her slice of cheesecake. Maybe as a garnish or on the side? While dining at a Korean barbecue was an adventure, it was nothing compared to the adventure that awaited me the next morning. My best advice, if you choose to go for Korean barbecue is this: pepto before, pepto after, and stay near a bathroom the next day.