OK, well in my personal motto of "I will try anything once." I could not say
"no" to the unusual invitation of dog for lunch. We ordered an expensive plate off the menu hand printed in large Korean character taped above our heads. The ajumma (ma'am) brought to our table a single propane range and pot filled with a variety of greens which was harmless enough, but quickly after she returned with the tray o' dog. She swiftly tonged the pieces of canine meat piece by piece until a small pile mounted in front of us. Soon it began to sizzle. I was with another American teacher. He was finishing his contract in Korea this week and on a plane the next. On his list of "things I must do in Korea" was the eating of dog. We both were reluctant but felt it was an important part of the authentic 'being in Korea' experience.
The meal was bubbling with fervor and with chopsticks poised for action, we stared at the pot for so long that the ajumma called out to us from across the room something in Korean that must have equated to "Its ready already, EAT!" The meat in front of us looked much like pot roast and I tried to convince my self that is was as such.
I, usually not a timid eater, was finding it hard to separate my connotations to the carefully prepared meal in front of me. I chose an indiscriminate piece of meat, placed it carefully in a piece of lettuce, wrapped it tightly, and put it in my mouth. I must say, it wasn't bad, it just wasn't 'worth it' good. What I mean is that it didn't taste good enough that I could relinquish the fact I was eating fido. For the sake of politeness to the ajumma, I mustered through five more bites saturating each generously in sauce and herb powder, none of which made the deed inconsequential.
My companion was equally disturbed and with almost two thirds left of the pile of dog meat in front of us we left the table. We paid the expensive bill and sauntered from the restaurant feeling a little nauseous and regretfully a regretful. We joked about going out for pizza, but I walked on to the bus stop instead. Perhaps this was one of those rare moments when imagining I had done one of those 'crazy things' would have been more much better than actually doing it.
