Milmyeon in Busan: The mu
Howdy, have you been munching?
Today I’d love to share with you a recent experience I had tasting Milmyeon for the first time in my life.
Early July. Busan. It is a warm, humid summer evening. I arrive in South Korea for the first time in my life thanks to a ferry that travels between Fukuoka and Busan. It is around 20:00. After quickly arriving at my accommodation I tackle a very important question: What to eat? My reliable friends Keumhee and Brock share a few suggestions: Milmyeon, Nakgopsae, Ssiat Hotteok, Dwaeji Gukbap, etc.
Let’s go for option 1: Milmyeon. I have no idea what it is, but heck let’s give it a go. I walk around a city full of neon lights amidst a dark sky. People, tourists are walking everywhere. Busan must be a popular place. I look store after store for a place showing signs of this dish. I have no luck.
Eventually I approach a group of four older adults who are eating outside and inquire them of where to find Milmyeon. One lady looks sternly into my eyes and begins speaking. It’s full Korean. Sadly my Korean is very limited at this time. What is she saying? I’m sorry I can’t speak Korean ( :( ). We go into full charades. Hands, arms, pointing, eating. Imagine a movie scene, and this is it. She takes my body, walks me down the street, points down the road, and then turns her finger leftward to signal a turn. She kindly tells me “closed” in English, then the name of the store. Understanding this, I give up on Milmyeon for the night and end up enjoying bites from food stands at a local night market.
The next day arrives. I will find that Milmyeon! Sadly, having worked at a distant cafe I’ve travelled a bit further from where I met the lady. I keep my spirits up and search for a restaurant that serves the same dish. I walk up a little hill. Five to ten minutes pass by. After passing one store after another, I see a sign with words that say… Milmyeon! Success. I walk into the store, and experience a dish that I wish the entire world can try at least once in their life.
Entering the restaurant, the first thing my eyes see is a woman sitting at a table near the kitchen, preparing dumplings. There is a sea of wooden tables and chairs. A metallic kitchen. I walk up to the lady apologetically, still feeling guilty for entering a country without being able to properly speak the language. I ask, “Milmyeon?” To which she understands, signalling the kitchen to begin preparing.
After about five to ten minutes of waiting, it arrives. Ah okay, it’s a noodle dish! The Milmyeon sits in a large metal bowl. My eyes see a sea of red, bedded with yellow noodles. A pile of radish, sliced cucumbers, seemingly red and spicy sauce, a slice of beef, an egg and sesame seeds present themselves. Fear kicks in. Oh no, how spicy is this? I can’t help but notice that the soup looks a bit unique. It looks a bit… lumpy? Is there some clear substance in the soup? Touching the bowl, it feels very cold. Taking my metal chopsticks, I prepare for a world of new flavours.
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I slurp a few noodles from the dish. Holy moly. My mouth experiences a world never known before. There are two distinct sensations that I my mouth simultaneously feels: Chill and heat. The noodles are really cold, but also hot from the spice. I have never experienced this combination in my life. The noodles have a perfect textural bite — just enough to compliment the cold soup.
Crunch.
Hmm? Remember that curiosity about the “lumpy soup”? Well, at this moment it is now answered. There is ice in this dish!
The harmony of flavours and textures command my attention as they harmonise with the spicy soup: the gentle cucumber with it’s fresh, crispness, the base-yness of the thin beef, the boiled egg… They together celebrate a hot and humid summer’s day through the contrast of a cooling experience. This dish is so good. Despite my recently developed smaller stomach (yes, tragedy), I am slurping away. While being slammed with spice, I finish this fairly large bown of Milmyeon.
Time to talk about the highlight ingredient. Amongst the beautiful sensations, flavours, and textures experienced through this dish, what do you think stood out the most? For me, it was the pickled radish. While eating the dish, the radish began playing hide and seek in the red broth, and would occasionally surprise me. Every time I had an unexpected mouthful of the noodles with the pickled radish, the acidity and crunchy texture of the radish gave me a whole new feeling of freshness, literally refreshing my mouth.
The pickled radish is made using the produce, mu (무, Raphanus sativus). Mu a widely valued root vegetable, as it boasts being the most vastly cultivated crop in South Korea as of 2015. About 70,000 hectares is dedicated to growing it, and it yields 4.5 million tonnes per year. Can you believe that it only takes 3 months to grow it? It’s even more surprising when considering how it grows to a length of 20 cm with a diameter of about 7 cm. One fun fact about mu is how the entire plant can be consumed: root and leaves. Although the word mu serves a general term for radishes in South Korea, when one talks about this plant, they are referring to the Korean radish, Joseon-mu (조선무).
Where did mu originate from? According to Aeri from Aeri’s Kitchen, this radish is originally from the Mediterranean coast. It is postulated to have travelled over to China through the Silk Road, as records show this vegetable existing in China at around 400BC. Along with the introduction of Buddhism, mu began cultivation in Korea during the Three Kingdoms period (approximately 220 to 280 AD). Isn’t it fascinating how the story of food travels through the emergence of global events such as wars, and even religious adoption? Today this radish is used in many Korean dishes, including Milmyeon.
Last note: In addition to the story of mu, Milmyeon itself carries a tragic, beautiful history that gives sentimental meaning to the dish existing specifically in Busan. It explained why my friend recommended it when I asked for her food recommendations here. We’ve discussed a lot already today, so if time allows I’ll dedicate another post to this history. If you ever find yourself in Busan, please give this dish a chance. For my fellow vegan friends, I imagine it can become vegan-friendly without compromising the essence of the dish through removing the egg and beef portion.
Big hugs, see you soon :).
Munch Atlas
