#andiexchoi

[andiexchoi]

charli and lorde at coachella

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[andiexchoi]

[andiexchoi]

lush and warm days

[andiexchoi]

annie’s

[andiexchoi]

the dehydrated clementine had a real nice crunch

[andiexchoi]

reverse engineered the jade chanel ss24 ombre essentielle eyeshadow

[andiexchoi]

scroll for English

사실 여긴 오픈 하기 전부터 눈독을 들인 곳이다. 3월 어느 잡지에 실린 기사에 나온 미국인 셰프 사위와 한국인 장모의 레스토랑 이야기가 너무나도 궁금하고 기대된 나머지, 꼭 각 잡고 계획해서 오겠다고 마음먹었다. 애인이랑 함께 오려다 헤어지고, 친구랑 같이 가려다 서로 출장 일정이 엇갈려서 언젠가는 가겠지, 하고 마음을 접었다. 그러다 오늘, 병원 약속이랑 불가피한 레드 라인 공사로 생각보다 늦은 시간까지 다운타운에 머물다가 너무 배고프고 피곤한 나머지, 마침 근처에 있던 <<소맥>> 에 발을 들였다.

비 오는 월요일 퇴근 시간엔 비교적 쉽게 1인석을 얻을 수 있었다. 앉자마자 읽은 메뉴에서 내 눈을 사로잡은 것은 미국 한식점에서 흔히 볼 수 없는 농어회와 전복, 깻잎전과 우엉. 바람이 좀 더 불었다면 회를 시켰겠지만, 덥고 답답한 오늘을 게워 내려고 난 매콤 달싹한 비빔국수, 소고기가 든 깻잎전, 그리고 “찐빵” 칵테일을 선택했다.

식사보다 먼저 도착한 칵테일은 예상보다 상쾌하고 적당히 달았다. 집중해서 음미해야만 맛볼 수 있는 팥은, 그 뒤에 따른 흑 깨가 살려냈다. 향수나 와인, 술 향을 예민하게 맡지 못하는 내가 더 할 말은 없지만 찐빵의 달콤한 팥 맛이 전해지지 않은 부분은 조금 아쉬웠다. 깻잎전과 비빔국수는 함께 도착했는데 여기서 여러 기획 센스가 돋보였다. 파스타나 소면과 달리 메밀로 만든 면은 질긴데, 그릇을 놓자마자 “면을 잘라드릴까요?”라고 물은 백인 웨이터의 말에 한 번 놀라고, 보통 국수와 함께 오는 일반 식초 대신 조금 더 달고 감미로운 사과 식초를 선택한 바에 한 번 더 놀랐다.

다른 한식점과는 달리 반찬에 가격이 붙어서 따로 시키진 않았지만, 식사와 함께 김치, 시금치 무침, 그리고 깍두기가 왔다. (서비스였을까?) 가격이 붙은 점에 대해서는 처음엔 다소 충격적이었지만, 현지 백인들이 먹기엔 맵고 생소한 반찬을 공짜로 내놓은 대가로 한 두 젓가락밖에 안 먹힌 접시들을 버리기보단, 몇 불이라도 가격을 붙여서 손님들이 신중하게 선택하게끔 한 후에 반찬을 올리는 게 운영 차원에서 현명한 선택이란걸 깻잎전과 국수를 한두 입 씹으면서 생각했다.

허기를 달래고 나니 주위를 둘러볼 여유가 생겼다. 내 앞의 웨이터는 보쌈을 처음 먹어보는 손님에게 쌈장을 설명하고, 옆과 뒤로는 반듯한 발음으로 접시를 소개하는 소리가 들렸지만, 식당 전체에 한국인 웨이터는 단 한 명도 없었다. 한국과 아무런 인연이 없는 스태프들이 꾸밈없고 담백하게 레스토랑과 메뉴를 소개하는 모습에서 주인의 교육관과 한국 문화와 음식에 대한 진정한 존경심이 묻어나서 감동하고, 너무 아무 생각 없이 여기를 들어온 내가 조금 부끄러웠다. 식사는 흠잡을 곳 없이 깔끔하고 만족스러웠고, 웃기지만 내 최애는 깍두기였다. 미국에선 산 20여 년 동안 눈 돌아가게 맛있는 깍두기를 먹어 본 적이 없는데, 여기서 찾았다. 평소에 식당 내에서는 아무런 평판을 입 밖으로 내지 않는 내가, 오늘은 웨이터를 붙잡고 깍두기를 따로 사고 싶다 셰프께 전해달라 부탁했다.

<<소맥>>은 이렇게 아무 계획 없이, 눅눅하고 지친 날, 아픈 발에 이끌려 먹는 게 제일 잘 어울린다. 그게 진짜인 것 같다.

I had been eyeing this place since before it opened. I read about its up-and-coming arrival in some magazines back in March. The story of a James Beard Award-winning chef learning from his Korean mother-in-law to open an authentic Korean restaurant in downtown Boston was so compelling that I was determined to plan a proper date to come here. First, I planned to go with a lover. That fell through. I tried to come with a friend, but we couldn’t line up our work schedules, so I figured I’d get to come here someday, but then I stopped planning. Today, I was stuck downtown later than usual (doctor’s appointment, the red line not working). Weary and hungry, I found myself at Somaek.

It was relatively easy to find a seat for one on a rainy Monday evening. Upon scanning the menu, I found some items I don’t usually see in American-Korean restaurants: striped bass sashimi, abalone, perilla leaves, and braised burdock. Had it been a bit windier, I would have ordered the sashimi, but I wanted to whisk away the heavy humidity from my day, so I chose the perilla leaves stuffed with beef, spicy cold buckwheat noodles, and a cocktail called “Jjinbbang,” named after a soft bread filled with sweet red bean paste. 

The cocktail was decently sweet and crisp. But you really had to focus to taste the red bean paste, and even that was quickly followed up by the black sesame. I don’t have a strong nose for cocktails, wine, or perfume, so I can’t say much, but I was a little disappointed that the nutty sweetness of the red bean paste didn’t permeate throughout the drink. The perilla leaves and noodles arrived together, and I noticed some excellent details. Unlike pasta or somen, buckwheat noodles can be difficult to cut through with your front teeth, but unless you’re eating buckwheat noodles frequently, you wouldn’t know that. So when my waiter asked if I’d like my noodles cut the moment after he set them down, I was pleasantly surprised. Usually, these noodles are served with white vinegar for the diner to add to their taste, but these were served with a sweeter and softer apple cider vinegar, which I thought was a creative and unexpected touch. 

Unlike other Korean restaurants in the area, the banchan (side dishes) did not come for free, and they weren’t exactly cheap! (I did get some kimchi, spinach, and radish with my meal, and I’m wondering now if that was offered gratis…) I was a little shocked at first, but it made sense as I took a few bites of my food. When you offer something that might be a bit foreign for free, your diners might pick at it a little, but they probably won’t finish it unless they absolutely love it because they perceive it to have no value. This would result in a lot of waste in the end. Adding a price that makes them think about their choice a little gives the restaurant an opportunity to teach and the diner an opportunity to learn, taste, and appreciate. It’s a really thoughtful choice from an operational standpoint. 

After a few more bites, I could feel my surroundings more. The waiter at the table in front of me was explaining “ssamjang” to a customer who had never had “bossam” before. I heard the staff introducing the dishes in straightforward and unembellished Korean names from behind and around me. But the thing was, none of the staff present were Korean, let alone Asian. Hearing these people, who (I assume) have no direct ties to Korea, talk about my food in such plain and truthful language, I could understand the owner’s teaching philosophy and genuine respect for Korean food and culture. It almost made me feel embarrassed that I had walked in for a meal with so little thought. My meal was clean-cut; I have no comments. And funnily enough, my favorite was the radishes. In my 20 years of living here, I have never had radishes so good at a restaurant, and I found them here, of all places. I usually don’t voice my opinions while I’m eating, but I had to ask the waiter to please ask the chef if they sold them in jars. 

Tired on a heavy, humid day, led by my aching feet, this was the best way to come to Somaek. And it was the real deal.