Korea Slow Trip - Crab Shopping at Korea's Largest Wet Market

Shopping at a Korean live seafood stall is one of those Old World experiences that many curious foodies would love, but don't know where to start. This post is a documentation of our morning at Korea's largest wet market, starting with its endless rows of live crustacean tanks and ending at the upstairs sikdang with our five pound king crab, steamed, cracked and served with all the banchan fixings.

Oh and after a morning at the wet market, this excursion can be conveniently combined with an easy afternoon hike at the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Namhansanseong, working off the cholesterol and completing a perfect day-trip.


Crab is one of our many weaknesses as foodies, whether it's Japanese matsuba-gani, Chinese dazhaxie, Westcoast Dungenese or my personal fave the Alaskan red king crab. During our time in Korea we specifically traveled to two live seafood markets and picked crabs from the tank for two memorable meals, one at the crabber port of Sokcho for the giant snow crab or daege (대게), and one here in Seoul for the Russian king crab (킹크랩).


Every seasoned traveler knows how much the Japanese love their fish, but few realize that neighbouring South Korea consumes even more seafood per capita, a world-leading, insatiable 80 kg/person per year and more than all of their terrestrial meats -- pork, beef, chicken and more exotic kinds (ahem) -- combined. And the best place for a traveler to immerse him/herself is an authentic wet market, the best-known being the Noryangjin Market in Seoul. But if you want something less touristy and even more gigantic, come to Korea's largest wholesale food market known as Garak Sijang (가락시장).


Take Metro Line 3 or 8 to Garak Market Station and come out of Exit 2, and you'll be dwarfed by a multi-building complex with 75 football fields of merchant stalls for everything edible -- butchered, flash-frozen, fermented, sun-dried or swimming. Follow the above signage for Seafood Market (수산시장) -- or just follow your nose towards the fishy smell -- on ground floor. While the clientele mainly consists of restauranteurs and wholesale buyers, most stalls also welcome walk-in customers buying a swimming flounder for live-filleted hoe or abalones for a hearty rice porridge.


As usual it felt like walking into an ambush, and we did our due diligence by strolling around the countless stalls and inquiring about the day's prices for crabs. Unbeknownst to us at the time the Russian crabber fleet had already halted their harvest due to COVID-19, and we had a dozen or so stalls quoting us the same price of 88000 Won/Kg for Kamchatkan king crabs -- or slightly cheaper for crabs with a missing leg. At the end we settled for 80000 Won/Kg for an unblemished crab at Honam Susan, hidden at the back row at Stall A05.


At 180000 Won (80000 Won/Kg x 2.25 Kg) this was going to be our most expensive seafood purchase ever, a little steeper than my expectation (rumoured to be around 70000 Won/Kg just two weeks ago!) and nearly three times the nightly price of our 3-star hotel room. The proprietor did throw in his customary freebies with a few scoopfuls of scallops and clams, but it was still a painfully expensive meal for two foodies on a moderate budget. Oh well, king crabs aren't cheap in Canada either and we've set aside the budget to splurge just this once.


By default all eat-in patrons are taken to 3/F to the stall's associated restaurant, in our case the no-frills, cafeteria-like Jeongdong Sikdang frequented by workers from the market's 1300 merchants at lunchtime. Apparently it's also a popular venue for informal business lunches for suppliers and wholesalers, judging by the activites at our neighbouring tables.


While the menu was in Korean only, prices were easy to navigate -- 3000 Won/Person for table setting including several basic banchan, 5000 Won/Kg for crab steaming, and an extra 3000 Won/Person if you want some vinegared chobab rice to go with your raw fish or stuffed fried rice inside your crab carapace. For the rare patron not bringing in seafood from downstairs, the eatery offers a range of dishes from the cheap grilled mackerel (8000 Won) to the premium haemuljjim seafood stew (40000 Won, typically feeds two or three). There's even a samgyetang on the menu for 11000 Won, but you might as well go to a proper chicken restaurant rather than a wholesale fish market.


Once the fish stall delivered our seafood and left, the sikdang automatically took over and in 15 minutes produced this whopping appetizer of scallops and clams, steamed in their own juices and served with the default duo of wasabi-soy and cho-gochujang.


The umami sweetness of Korean scallops is always a highlight in any dish, and the blood cockles also turned out delightfully briny in its own marinade of sea water. These freebies came in such generous portions that we barely finished a third when the purpose of our visit made its grand entrance.


For the uninitiated, this spiny monster is the legend behind the reality TV series Deadliest Catch and the jackpot behind one of the most hazardous occupations in America -- or Russia in the case of our crab. The largest commercially-harvested crab species is also among the most coveted seafood delicacies in Northeast Asia, served as nabemono in Japan, steamed in huadiao liquor in China or simply steamed and served with various banchan and dips here in Korea.


Living in Canada we're more familiar with Alaskan red king crabs, typically a larger species than the Kamchatkan blue variety available here in Korea. The Alaskan reds we usually see in Canadian restaurants average 4-5 kg -- anything smaller would be considered not "meaty" enough. But these Kamchatkan blues had a slightly different build and our 2.25 kg specimen turned out considerably meatier than one would expect from an Alaskan red of similar size.


After that it was all about shucking that succulent, distinctly sweet meat from the spiny claws and legs (careful there!) and the crab body, including the formative soft shell pictured above. Forget the routinely exorbitant prices for a moment and close the eyes -- there is simply no substitution for this highly-concentrated crab flavour.


A generous cluster of delicate shucked meat in a spoonful of briny juice and crab caviar. Any other condiment -- wasabi, soy sauce or cho-gochujang -- simply distracts the tastebuds from the purity of this rare delicacy.


As alluded earlier, our visit conincided with COVID-19 when the Russian fleet had halted operation, which in turn drove up prices of the depleting supply in Korea at the time. I hope fellow travelers will find cheaper prices when the Kamchatkan crabber boats return to action, though I also heard that the Russians were implementing an even more stringent quota system.

In any case this was by far our priciest meal in Korea ... and the reason for resorting to department store basement eomuk for a cheap dinner that night.

Meal for Two Persons

King Crab 2.25 kg	180000 Won
Mixed Shellfish 1.2 kg	FREE
Steaming Fee for 3.4 kg	17000 Won
Table Setting x 2	6000 Won
TOTAL	203000 Won (CAD$233)

So we squeezed ourselves into a cheap hotel room for 66000 Won per night but blew afforded three times as much in this one meal. For fellow foodies wanting a Korean wet market experience on a moderate budget, I'd recommend picking a midsize flounder which may cost you 40000 Won and provide the freshest raw hoe for an unmistakably Korean dish.


After brunch we also went down to B1/F to check out the impressive ranks of fruit stands with their Korean greenhouse cantaloupes and premium shine muscats, priced only slightly cheaper than the average neighbourhood supermarket. We refrained from buying anything as we didn't want to increase the load in my backpack anyway -- our day-hike to Namhansanseong was next.

IF YOU GO

Hop on Seoul Metro Line 3 or Line 8 to Garak Market Station, take Exit 2 and walk into the ground floor for the seafood section (수산시장). While the building itself is open 24 hours, most seafood stalls operate Monday to Saturday from 09:00 until 21:00 and the restaurants on 3/F follow similar hours. Don't come on Sundays.

For those wanting to combine Garak Market with a family-friendly hike at the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Namhansanseong, take Line 8 to Sanseong Station followed by a short taxi ride. For more details, watch for our upcoming post on the Namhansanseong hike.

Korea Slow Trip - Authentic Eats in Seoul

For most foodies, planning a visit to Seoul would involve a deliberate exercise of budgeting limited time and stomach room for the innumerable genres and specialties within Korean cuisine. Some delicacies (hotteok, eomuk) are omnipresent while others (ganjang gejang) may require a little more research to seek out the most authentic and representative recipes. Here we selected four classic eateries for their respective categories, all well-positioned in central Seoul for easy inclusion into sightseeing itineraries.

Authentic Eat #1 - Ganjang Gejang @ Hamcho Ganjang Gejang


This is somewhat of a cult delicacy to westerners, I know. But this is one of my favourite Korean dishes and I really hope that more foodies -- especially fellow Canadians -- will be exposed to this wonderous invention.

As raw seafood enthusiasts we had our sights on several Ganjang Gejang specialists in central Seoul -- Hamcho (함초간장게장, see map) in Myeongdong, Jinmi Sikdang near Aeogae Station and Pro Soy Crab on the Gangnam side. At the end we picked the conveniently-located Hamcho, hidden in a raucous basement at Myeongdong alongside jjimjilbangs and billiard parlours. Despite being armed with Naver map it took us a while find its signage ... in Japanese.


And we sat down surrounded by a roomful of Japanese clientele. Foodies who have visited West Japan should understand these marinated raw crabs' appeal to the Japanese palate -- in fact Western Kyushu has a related chinmi known as gan-zuke made with crushed coin-sized crabs. In recent years this Korean delicacy has carved out a niche in ultra-competitive Tokyo where a single female crab would sell for 5000 yen (CAD$65), 50% more expensive compared with prices here in Seoul.


That relative high price is all justified by the female crab's luscious orange caviar, customarily spooned with soy-marinade, mixed with steaming rice and wrapped inside a crispy layer of seaweed roasted in sesame oil. The caviar from each crab lasts only a few heavenly bites, not filling enough as entree on its own which makes it even more addictive to the connoisseur.


Compared with other ganjang gejang restaurants, Hamcho's recipe calls for the inclusion of salty samphire grass (i.e. hamcho) to enhance the minerality and depth of the soy-marinade. Ganjang shrimps also benefit from the marinade's multi-year fermentation process, though the freshness -- i.e. "stickiness" to the tongue -- of these shrimps was nowhere as sensational as the same dish we sampled several days ago at the fishing port of Sokcho.


If quality of its banchan is one key determinant of a restaurant's recommendability, Hamcho certainly passed my test with several well-selected sides that went exceedingly well with rice ... or perhaps even better with soju. The pictured roasted seaweed was among the simplest yet most enjoyable banchan we encountered in Seoul.


You can never go wrong with some sweet-and-spicy myeolchi-bokkeum, always my favourite banchan since childhood visits to our Korean neighbours' family-run eatery. As I recall the banchan also included sauteed dried shrimp and spicy eomuk fish cakes, besides the mundane bean-sprout-and-cabbage varieties.


No free doenjang jjigae here, but our set dinner did finish with a fluffy gyeranjjim. The Japanese patrons at neighbouring tables all seemed euphoric with their crabs, not surprising considering the deep discounts here compared with prices in Tokyo or Osaka. From my Canadian perspective this is one dish that I always recommend to my friends visiting Korea -- you can easily get samgyetang or galbijjim in Toronto or Vancouver, but ganjang gejang is just difficult to find outside Korea, and certainly not at this level of freshness and craft.

Meal for Two Persons

Ganjang Gejang (Female Crab) x 2	76000 Won
Maekju	5000 Won
TOTAL	81000 Won (CAD$93)

While not everyone loves raw seafood, the next authentic eat should be universally acceptable for most visitors -- it's chicken broth for the Korean soul after all.

Authentic Eat #2 - Samgyetang @ Goryeo Samgyetang


Balancing the earthy tartness of Korean ginseng with the umami sweetness from a whole chicken, nutritious samgyetang is a prime example of the timeless East Asian wisdom that medicine and food are one and the same. With each specialist restaurant -- Tosokchon, Gobong and others -- boasting its own secret recipe, we decided to make a trip to the grand daddy of them all, the 3rd generation Goryeo Samgyetang (고려삼계탕, see map) widely considered the oldest samgyetang joint in the world.


Perfectly embodying the Korean idiom of Yi-Yeol-Chi-Yeol, or overcoming heat with heat, homey samgyetang annually becomes Korea's default national dish during the humid heatwave season, known locally as sambok when these specialist eateries often see massive queues outside their shops. The core menus are largely uniform between restaurants, generally starting with basic samgyetang (~16000 Won) with various premium upgrades such as a silkie fowl, or perhaps topped with a fresh abalone, or the pictured sansam version topped with cultivated wild ginseng roots for more robust flavours as well as medicinal potency.


For an extra 6000 Won (CAD$7) they swapped the basic chicken with a treasured ogolgye, a slow-growing ancient breed with dark skin, bones and innards and widely renowned across East Asia for its curative value. Even for those who don't dig the alleged medicinal properties, the increased depth of flavour in the meat was definitely noticeable on the palate.


Everyone's favourite perk at a samgyetang joint is the complimentary shot of insamju, the ginseng-infused liquor popular with the older generation and somewhat of novelty to youngsters. Some down it like a shooter; others dump it straight into the bubbling stew for a more aromatic soup; I like it half-and-half. I'm not aware of a wrong way, unless you fail to finish it!


It's the original Korean slow food, taking half a day to prep and at least another hour for the patron to carefully pick out the small bones and extract the tender morsels of stewed chicken in a porridge of glutinous rice and mung beans, always with a dried jujube date to enhance the medicinal value of the central component, in this case a 4-year-old root from the ginseng capital of Geumsan. Now my body's internal heat was all restored, ready for our full day of urban hiking to the hanok village of Bukchon and the Changdeokgung Palace.

Meal for Two Persons

Sansam Samgyetang	22000 Won
Ogolgye Samgyetang	22000 Won
TOTAL	44000 Won (CAD$51)

The more time you spend in Korea, the more you inevitably hear about the purported health benefits of just about every Korean dish. While ginseng and silkie chicken are widely endorsed for rejuvenation of male prowess, there also exists a bewildering assortment of delicacies claiming health benefits for ladies. But what surprises most westerners is the popularity among females of a greasy slab of pork skin and meat known as jokbal.

Authentic Eat #3 - Jokbal @ Herb Jokbal


Korea's answer to the German schweinshaxe, blubbery jokbal is a textbook example of shrewd Korean marketing in which the heavy, cholesterol-laden pork knuckle becomes widely accepted by females of all ages for its alleged theraputic effects in skin care. In case you don't understand the local appreciation for pig skin, just walk into any beauty store/pharmacy and ask for pig collagen moisturizing creams and face masks.

Beauty fads aside, a late night spent washing down some jokbal with a few drinks is just one of those quintessential Korean dining experiences, especially if you're able to find a noisy blue-collar joint for some real life drama when everyone has had too many soju shots.


Purists may head to the so-called Jokbal Alley outside Dongguk University (not sure if this says anything about the students' alcohol consumption), but you can usually find some hole-in-the-wall jokbal outlet at any neighbourhood in Seoul, in this case the 24-hour restaurant of Herb Jokbal (허브족발, see map) at Sinseoldong. Ironically despite its 24/7 operation, this time the waitress nearly barred us from entering due to COVID-19 anxiety until the owner-chef agreed to seat us at a corner.


The choices were simple: front (apdari 압다리) or rear leg (dwitdari 뒷다리); spicy, non-spicy or half-and-half. The front typically costs a little more for its intense meaty flavour, but some like the rear for its softer, more delicate texture. Either way its all deboned, carved into bite-sized slices and served with the usual fixings of fermented shrimp dip, ssamjang sauce and spicy chives for your wrapping pleasure.


You've probably seen this alongside mounds of mystery pork parts in a traditional Korean market, a whole ham hock slow-braised in a soy-based mélange typically with cheongju wine, garlic and scallion, and a secret blend of Korean medicinal herbs that varies from shop to shop.


The mouthful of gelatinous skin and dark meat tastes much cleaner and less greasy than it looks thanks to that expert amalgam of mystery herbs -- licorice root, star anise and all -- that counteracts the typical "bloody" odour from the pig slaughter. In many shops the marinade would be decades old, reboiled at the end of each night and mixed into the fresh batch the next morning.


Wrapped in ssam with chives or cabbage kimchi, smothered in doenjang or dipped in fermented saewoo-jeot shrimps, personal preferences for everyone's default late night dinner always makes for a good friendly debate. One thing is beyond argument: you have to admire the marketers' ingenuity in attributing curative benefits to just about any genre of Korean cuisine.

Meal for Two Persons

Jokbal (Rear Leg)	29000 Won
Bottle of Beer	4000 Won
TOTAL	33000 Won (CAD$38)

And finally, what if you've got the munchies at night but are too lazy to walk two blocks to the nearest jokbal joint?

Authentic Eat #4 - Chimaek @ any chicken franchise


Introduced by American troops, adopted by baseball fans and exported globally by a certain SBS K-drama series, chimaek (chikin + maekju) was originally intended as shareable snacks for an evening with friends, ideally at a stadium or perhaps in front of the TV with the Korean national team playing. BHC or Goobne, Mexicana or Two Two or perhaps BBQ Olive Chicken for hardcore K-drama fans, every major brand has its own following.


Pictured above are a few different flavours from mid-range Kyochon, not the cheapest but always convenient for delivery or pickup with a hundred or so outlets across Seoul. I'll take original ganjang, red sauce, honey or whatever -- its that hand-painted glaze and thin, double-fried crust that makes Korean fried chicken chains infinitely better than KFC.

Meal for Two Persons

Half-Ganjang-Half-Red Drumsticks + Wings	18000 Won
Boneless Honey	11000 Won
Bottle of Beer	4000 Won
TOTAL	33000 Won (CAD$38)