This weekend was the worst. I can’t remember being more uncomfortable on the floor. I’ve never liked it. Nearly 50 years in chairs and this boy has gotten used to the things. That stuff doesn’t go away being in Korea for a couple of years. The last day we were in Pohang I refused to sit other than to eat. I almost refused that, but I was hungry. I stood, walked, or sat on the garden wall and when that didn’t work, I sat in the car and listened to music. I just can’t handle sitting on hard floors all day and then sleeping on them at night. I’m a pussy for cushions, I admit. But it’s too late to do anything about it now.

While in Pohang with the family, I really enjoyed the cooking. Not the food so much, but the actual cooking. Last year, I introduced MyeongHee’s family to Texas-style meat grilling – letting the fat drip down into the fire so that resulting smoke flavors the meat. They liked it. They have restaurants here that do that as well, but its a rare thing to properly have the grease drip into the fire and flavor the meat with the smoke. They call it “soot bul gogi” (숱불고기) soot being the name they call charcoal, bul meaning fire and gogi is meat – “charcoal fire meat” literally. Most places cover up the coals and you cook the meat on a slotted domed surface at your table – the fat  just drips into a side trough. The meat is always marinated and then wrapped in lettuce with sliced garlic and bean paste, so it’s not like missing the smoke makes it terrible – it’s still good. The ones with a real grill screen is the best, but they’re rare as hens’ teeth.

But anyway, back to the grilled meat at home story. I was told to bring our little table-top grill to Pohang. I cautioned that those things don’t work well in freezing temperatures as the cold air prevents the fat from liquefying and dripping down into the fire. My grill doesn’t have a lid to help hold in the heat and it was well below freezing this weekend. No matter. One of MyeongHee’s brothers found a good deal on New Zealand beef and bought a few kilos to grill. They wanted grilled meat, dammit, and they were gonna get it no matter what.

I like her brothers. They’re nice guys. Especially the younger one. He’s always been very kind to me. But common sense ain’t their strong point. When I made Texas-style grilled meat last year, both boys wanted to help get the fire going, despite the fact that it was my grill, my charcoalsoot, I was the one showing them how to make it and I had years of experience in grilling and preparing grills for cooking.  They made a mess of things last year and were unable to get the fire going. It should have been easy – Korean soot comes in one of two varieties – a ring of napalm soaked charcoal-like-substance or real wood charcoal with a single napalm soaked piece included as the starter. Briquettes and lighter fluid are just not done here.  I had the later variety. After they jacked up the napalm starter chunk by burning it first without surrounding and topping  it with charcoal, I went to the store to buy some regular lighter fluid – the kind one uses in Zippo lighters – and properly got my fire going. So, despite the false start, we were able to enjoy some grilled dead animal. It was great.

This year, since I’d already told them my grill wouldn’t work in subzero temperatures and they were unable to grasp the concept of fire building I let them alone to do the cooking. What a show. I can’t remember being so entertained so cheaply ever before.

They are incapable of listening, however. Since I said cold weather kills the fat liquefaction process, they decided to be real smart and put the grill in the house. A charcoal grill. Fortunately, the kitchen had a door. I closed it while they cooked so the rest of the house wouldn’t become soot infested. But since it’s Korean style to cook from a grill at the table, the rest of the family piled in the kitchen and began eating as pieces of meat became ready. Oh, the meat was fine – the first batch, that is. The fat liquefied nicely, dripped down and smoked the meat wonderfully. And the kitchen was very nicely smoked, as well. I stayed in the livingroom while the occasional family member would come running out of the kitchen, eyes streaming tears from a face full of smoke. MyeongHee called me into eat but upon opening the kitchen door and being confronted with a wall of smoke I declined, laughing. Restaurants that have grills at the table also have extensive exhaust systems at each table; the boys hadn’t considered that small fact.

The boys conceded defeat. The grill in the kitchen, while making lovely meat, was also poisoning everyone with smoke and carbon monoxide. They moved the grill back out on to the patio (where I showed them how last year – and also where we ate since the weather was nice then.)   The kitchen cleared of smoke and everyone’s eyes lost that just-came-from-the-funeral redness. But there was still a lot of meat to be cooked and it was cold.  Sure enough, just as I predicted, the cold, windy weather kept the meat chilly and the fat nice and white. None of it dripped down into the coals and smoked the meat. Moreover, the fat would barely melt enough to seep onto the grill and the meat stuck horribly.  They ended up cooking all the meat, but it was far from grilled. Most of it was simply heated. Large gobs of fat and marbling that should have melted and smoked nicely were still clinging to the meat on the plate, now back inside the house.  No grilled flavor. So smoky taste. Just meat.

No matter. I piled on the sliced garlic, smothered it with red bean paste, wrapped it in lettuce and ate my fill. I did a damn good job of not saying “I told you so” and an even better job the rest of the day not smirking or wrinkling my nose whenever any of the family walked by smelling like a Bonanza steak house.

Oh – and I found my suit pants. They were buried on a hangar under a shirt  that doesn’t match the suit.