In anticipation of the event lanterns have been strung up around Buddhist temples for months now (as seen here). Yesterday, however, preparations reached a fever pitch as temples prepared for the major festival. At the Jogye Temple (조계사 曹溪寺), which is Seoul's main temple of the dominant Jogye Order of Korean Buddhism, there's was a great deal of chaos. Buddhist believers were praying in the temple while workers were setting up sound stages, testing electronic equipment, stringing lanterns, preparing food offerings, etc.
The sea of brightly colored lanterns overhead was quite beautiful.
Musicians were doing sound checks with traditional Korean instruments.
In front of the main temple building, a crane truck was employed to deposit a very large and heavy festive tree to the temple. (It's visible there in the background, underneath the center of the large sign.)
In the morning I had gone with some classmates to the Mongolian neighborhood of Seoul, near Dongdaemun 동대문 東大門, for lunch. There is a surprisingly large population of Mongolians living in South Korea. We ate at a small place called, of course, Ulaanbataar. One of my Mongolian classmates took us there.
The menu consisted entirely of mutton dishes. On the left you see mutton dumplings, on the right a dish of fried mutton, carrots, onions, and noodles.
We drank salted milk tea, which is far more palatable than Tibetan yak butter tea, but still no great shakes.
We also got two soups: One was a mutton soup, and the other one was a mutton soup.
(Not pictured is the different mutton soup at the next table.)
The Chinese people couldn't manage to eat anything. They said the mutton had a "smell". Most Chinese people say this. I don't entirely understand it. Mutton indeed has a smell -- it smells like delicious mutton.
That very evening I had another interesting though very different meal. The friend whose wedding I attended last fall took me in the afternoon to the Jogye Temple and the Gilsang Temple (길상사 吉祥寺). The former is located in downtown Seoul, very close to Insadong. The latter is beautifully situated up in the hills behind Gyeongbok Palace, in a very rich neighborhood somewhat reminiscent of the Los Angeles hills. For dinner we went to Samcheonggak (삼청각 三清閣), also in those same hills. For decades this location was the private dining area of government officials, but is now an area open to the public for recreation. There is a very fancy and expensive Korean restaurant on the grounds.
We ordered a multi-course set meal called Gungjung Sura (궁중수라), which translates roughly to "royal feast". We also ordered a bowl of makgeolli (막걸리), a milky-white rice wine that is sweet and fizzy. It was served with a big wooden ladle.
The first course was a pumpkin porridge served with water-kimchi.
Second course was a plate of bamboo shoots in persimmon sauce.
Third course was a nine-delicacies platter. In the center is a stack of thin pancakes. You put bits of the shredded vegetables on a pancake, roll it up, dip it in sauce, and eat.
Here's our menu. We were screened from the neighboring tables for privacy.
Grilled cakes: shrimp, chive, and fish.
Raw marinated ground beef. (Surprisingly delicious.)
Although they kept clearing plates away as more food came, eventually the table became crowded with dishes.
Japchae 잡채, which I normally think of as the lowliest of dishes. This was "Royal Japchae", however.
Followed by Royal Hot Pot, served in the cutest little individual-sized firepot.
After all these dishes had been served, braised ribs (galbi-jjim 갈비찜) came out along with four side dishes (banchan 반찬).
Then, in rapid succession, seaweed soup, rice, fruit (chamoe and orange), a sweet dessert drink called shikhye, and tteok.
Today in Seoul, it's possible to eat emperor food up in the hills where once only top government officials could go. That's what political openness and economic prosperity will do for you.
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