If you get off the subway train at Moran Station on a day that ends in 4 or 9, just follow the stream of humanity up the stairs through exit 5, and you will soon find yourself stepping back into Korea's gritty past. Moran Traditional Market is a vast expanse of vendor's stalls where you can buy almost anything: polarized sunglasses, herbal remedies, dried fish (of every imaginable and unimaginable type), discount clothing, and dogs (both as pets and as dinner).
So let's get the dog thing out of the way. I really do try not to be judgmental. I know that if I grew up eating dog, I wouldn't think there was anything weird or wrong about it. I imagine that people from the Middle East probably probably feel the same revulsion about me eating pork that I feel watching people eating dog meat. Still, it's emotionally challenging walking past cages packed with dogs, and the sight and smell of their butchered bodies is difficult from me to endure. The good news is that most Koreans are bothered by the practice, and in fact, the city of Seongnam is going to be closing down the dog shops in the near future.
So if the dogs-as-food thing is such a bummer, why do I like Moran Market? The answer is that it is such a stark departure from the modern, high-fashion Korea that I see every day. One minute you are walking down a street filled with the usual stores selling designer clothes, cell phones, expensive cosmetics, and single-origin coffee, and the next minute you are face to face with giant dried skates and bottles of fermented wasps. Every few steps you are confronted with yet another new sight that leaves you either baffled, disgusted, or intrigued. When I walk the streets of modern Korea, I have come to feel somewhat at home, but when I walk through Moran Market I feel like a stranger in a strange land - and I like it!
The picture above shows these huge tree roots that apparently have some medicinal quality. The vendor grinds them up, mixes them with water, and bottles the concoction. A steady stream of customers (usually elderly men) purchase fresh paper cups of the frothy liquid and chug it down. Of course I've tried it, and I can tell that it tastes just they way you would imaging a giant ground up liquified tree root would taste. You're not missing much.
Take a good close look at the picture above. Yes, that is a giant vat of centipedes being slowly cooked alive. As the creatures slowly stew, their juices accumulate then center of the vat, where they boil to form an evil looking black goo that is decanted out of the spigot at the bottom of the pot. People line up to pay the man to mix his centipede juice into a shot glass full of soju (rice liquor) so they can down it. This is without a doubt my favorite sight at the market.
If centipede juice reduction isn't your cup of tea, you have lots of other choices at the market. Across the way is a place that sells grilled sparrows (tastes like chicken, but trust me, they are far too boney to be worth the effort). There are, as in any decent Korean market, plenty of people selling wriggling, unidentifiable sea creatures, but of course Moran Market takes the concept to whole new creature-from-the-black-lagoon levels. Again, I try to be open minded, but I find myself thinking "seriously, what would possibly possess you to eat THAT? And by the way, what planet did it come from?"
Of course, if you aren't in the mood for seafood, there are other choices available.
Beondegi is made from boiled silkworm larva. I'm not a fan. Tried it plenty of times, think it tastes like dirt.
I've never seen anyone eat these kind of snails, but I'm pretty sure, given their small size, that you eat them shell-and-all.
There are countless tent-resaraunts that provide their patrons with the opportunity to enjoy this wealth of delicacies, but most people seem to just eat the normal Korean fare like fried fish cakes, or raw sea squirt. One of my favorites is the place where you stand at a counter and eat pajeon (a type of squid and green onion pancake that is actually quite tasty) straight off the griddle. My other must-eat while at the market is sannakji, which consists of wriggling octopus tentacles that are soaked in sesame oil. Yes it's kind of morbid, and yes the little buggars do tend to grab hold of the plate, the chopsticks, and your teeth, but it really is very delicious..
Power lunch at Moran Market: a bottle of makgeoli (fizzy, pulpy, rice wine), and a plate of wriggling tentacles.
So if you are ever in Korea, and you are looking for something to do on a day that ends on a 4 or a 9, consider taking a stroll through Moran Market. Here's a great tip: you can experience all the weirdness without seeing the dog butchers by just staying away from the right side of the market. And if what I'ver read online is true, that whole unpleasant aspect of the market will be gone by summer anyway.
