Everyone has a kryptonite food. Mine’s movie theater popcorn. I’ve only been able to go to the movies once without buying a large tub loaded with “butter.” Otherwise, pre-pandemic, I avoid movie theaters like the plague. Sometimes, I can’t even settle down for a nice movie at home without wanting to drive to a movie theater just for the buttered popcorn (yes, I’m one of those people).
I’m now watching “Revenant” on Hulu. It’s one of the highly recommended k-dramas of 2023 and stars the new love of my life, actor Oh Jung-se (folklore professor Yeom Hae-sang). I wasn’t sure whether it was any good at first (like I always do) — until the two detectives came on whipping up their own special brand of k-drama camaraderie.
K-dramas are superior to white Euro-Anglo blockbusters, because the actors try like hell to bring their all to every project, especially personality and interactive chemistry. This means the actors, who tend to be treated as civil servants, actually earn their blockbuster status with a Broadway ensemble approach (teamwork) and movie-star panache (fighting!).
They don’t just show up and stand there looking pretty for the little people. They’re accessible.
They let go of pretense, drop the walls, and really open themselves up to their acting partner(s); they listen, they respond, they give as if their livelihoods depend on it, because most often, it does.
A lot of popular k-drama actors live humbly. I doubt they earn enough to make it to the penthouse like Hollywood idols. They’re forever working on the next series; I’d say they do more of them than the average Hollywood A-lister.
All that aside, I’m going to spend the rest of this weekend immersed in “Revenant” and I’d really like a bowl of popcorn. Stupidly, I gave away both of my popcorn makers (sorry, Karyna) during the move, so all I have is a pot and an aversion to spilling popcorn everywhere.
I also want to make kim chee jjigae like my grandma. The kim chee I bought from Costco has really fermented nicely, after sitting in the fridge for over a year. The longer the better. But all the food blog recipes over-complicate the hearty, spicy stew with unnecessary ingredients, I guess, to earn their fancy online status.
Sugar has no place in jjigae, yet time and time again, I see it pop up.
My grandma never made kim chee with sugar, maybe pear, but usually salt, a lot of coarse salt, before burying large pottery-looking containers underground. Kids nowadays always want their food sweet.
Wouldn’t kim chee jjigae be the same as tofu jjigae?
I’ll make some next week, while I’m allowing myself rice. Btw, there is traditionally no tofu or Spam or tuna fish or mirin (wtf) in kim chee jjigae. So stop it.
As a final k-drama note, on a lark, I went on Amazon and looked up Mang-tae doll from “It’s Okay to Not Be Okay,” which I watched a few weeks ago. It’s there! I bought two, one for me and one I sent to my son, who recommended the drama to me in the first place.
He’ll probably roll his eyes and wind up leaving it behind some day when he moves, but until the novelty wears off, he might get a kick out of playing with the doll, tucking it under his pillow.
Mang-tae is a nice birthday gift, don’t you think? That, along with the robot dog we ordered. He turns 22 on Jan. 21. He probably won’t celebrate. He’s not much into holidays or special occasions, least of all his birthday. He threatens his friends to ignore it too.
But Mang-tae will keep him company…