Domesticity

Last night, in celebration of the domestic life, my roommate cooked and served me dinner in our courtyard. The meal began with white rice with soy sauce and sesame oil, into which I tossed a bit of pan fried garlic. There was also (my favorite) sam gyup sal with garlic, served with shrimp dip. Shrimp dip is a bowl with a clear sort of broth in it full of teensy tiny shrimps about the size and shape of three or four grains of rice laid end to end with teensy little black eyes peeping up at you. On a similar note, we had some myulchi, along with kimchi and danmooji. Also, we had some sort of battered fish. We also polished off a bottle of Takara shochu that has been clogging up the base paths of my liquor cabinet for some time. In conclusion, I had a fun time eating the food even though it was a terrifying experience of the other and nothing - nothing - was a sandwich.