Second Home

We ate Korean food out last night.  As usual, the first delicious bite brought tears to my eyes -  sesame oil, soybean paste, red pepper powder.  It's the taste of home - our second home, which, despite being thousands of miles away and four years behind us, still holds a little piece of our hearts.

It's an odd, but exhilarating feeling to be so at ease in what many would consider a foreign atmosphere.  I can still read the signs written in Hangul and recall basic phrases in Korean.  I managed even to excavate the word for "lettuce" from the recesses of my motherhood-muddled brain.

The restaurant we frequent is Samwon Garden and it's located in south Fort Worth.  When we returned from Korea in the fall of 2005, the only Korean restaurants around were all located 45 minutes away in Dallas' Koreatown, much to our dismay.  But not even two months after our return (we were still in the hotel even), my mom and I were visiting Fort Worth's premiere secondhand store - the McCart Thrift Center - when I saw something I initially thought was a mirage, my imagination playing a cruel trick on me - Korean characters above one of the storefronts in the strip mall running along the eastern side of the thrift center's parking lot.

I parked the car in front of the strip mall, practically leaping from the driver's seat and running up to check the door of the establishment.  I found it unlocked and eagerly flung it open and charged inside.  My heart jumped when I found the inside of a restaurant being built.  The owner was there and told me the restaurant would be open in a couple of months.

We go several times a year and I'm not sure how we got so lucky.  The food is delicious - some of the best Korean we've had, here and in Korea.  Every time we go, I fear we'll turn into the parking lot and found the storefront dark and quiet.  But for almost four years now, the open sign has been blazing and the restaurant smattered with a modest amount of patrons - mostly Korean, but with a few of us "miguks" thrown in the mix.  It's a coming home of sorts that we cherish.

It's extremely satisfying to watch Gideon relish the food there as well.  He slurped down spoonfuls of the rich broth from Jeremy's rice cake soup ("ddukmandoo-guk") last night and eagerly stabbed his fork at the neatly rolled egg omelet side dish and flat, smooth rice cakes we piled on the small plate in front of him.  The variety provided by the numerous side dishes ("pancheon"), rice and soup that generally accompany the main dishes we order makes finding something he'll eat easy, every time we go.

We all left with bellies full - of thick-sliced pork "samgyupsal" dipped in salted sesame oil and soybean paste, wrapped in crisp lettuce leaves; of soybean paste soup and warm, tender, short-grained rice; of steamed bean sprouts and egg omelet and seasoned glass noodles and, of course, a selection of kimchi.

We desperately hope southern Maryland can offer the same kind of dining experience.  It just won't be "home" without it.