Welcome to The BMC Vault, yet another tag recently created that will hopefully provide future excuses to post. Since so many online publications decide to be dicks and not leave some of their really great older stuff available for the sake of our posterity, I'm trying to lend a helping hand in the name of humanity. Requests for future installments can be sent here. I know I'm becoming an old man because the only television show I watch every single week is This Week with [Person Replacing George Stephanopoulos]. During the week, I almost never watch anything on the tube, only exception being the game of one of my favorite teams or of some national significance.
Most of the days, I listen to AM sports talk radio—more specifically, Boers and Bernstein. Terry Boers is already an old man, but a far more entertaining and a far more accomplished one than I. Still, I took some comfort in his comments this past Friday in regards to the recent news bit regarding Tiger Woods and PETA. Unfortunately, I don't think a podcast of that particular clip is available at the moment, but Boers went on to describe his own experience in dealing with animal-rights activists after penning a column during his trip to the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul where the former Sun-Times columnist was served dog while dining out.
Enjoy:
Chow hounds seek tasty pupChicago Sun-Times
Sunday, September 18, 1988Author: Terry BoersSEOUL, South Korea
Doggone that Paul McCartney.
Who's he to be telling the people of South Korea what they can and cannot eat?
If they want to chow down on chihuahua, have a pinch of pooch or even enjoy the delights of fettuccine alfido, what's wrong with that?
After all, the people here have been wokking their dogs for centuries, so it's hardly socially unacceptable among the older generation.
It was with that very thought in mind that I set out in search of the best gaigogi in town.
I knew it wouldn't be easy because, in order not to offend the sensibilities of visiting Westerners, many restaurants had been asked to drop dog from their menus.
I had imagined that I would find such fast-food franchises as Kentucky Fried Collie, McDachsund's, Pizza Mutt and Beagle King, but I couldn't.
Not to worry.
You can find just about anything you want in this city if you look hard enough, including a good bowl of chicken poodle soup and a great danish.
Setting out from press village with a friend, the first stop took us to a tiny market district less than five minutes away by cab.
Armed with a written request for gaigogi (courtesy of a tailor from the Itaewon shopping district), we peered into several store windows before discovering a restaurant at the top of a flight of stairs.
The workers, none of whom spoke English, quickly gathered around to read the note. While it was obvious that dog was not on their menu, one of the waiters indicated that we should follow him.
Making his way back to the street, the Korean flagged down a cab and gave the driver brief instructions.
Within minutes we found ourselves in the middle of another bustling market district that featured a rather fetid aroma.
The driver pointed to a long, narrow alleyway, the likes of which are quite common here. Unsure of where we were supposed to go, a Korean standing in front of a TV store saw our plight.
After glancing at the note, he set out down the alley. After about 75 yards, he made a sharp left down another passageway that was far less congested.
Thirty seconds later we were standing in front of the Four Seasons restaurant (I later had a business card translated back in the village).
Ushered in by a 50ish man in a T-shirt, it was clear that no menu would be necessary, that only one entree was available.
Because we were the only customers, we got terrific service, although we did make a mistake by not removing our shoes.
It took no more than two minutes for a wok full of the reddish stew to be placed over the flame on our table.
By that time three Korean women and a little boy, who had been watching cartoons on a TV in an adjoining room, had gathered to observe.
Long before the cooking time seemed sufficient, the woman who'd been stirring the stew searched out a strip of the meat and put it in the small dish of sauce on my plate.
It took just about every bit of my resolve to pick the meat up with the chopsticks. It took even more to eat it.
But I did.
And it was well beyond awful. Very fatty, very slimy and very disgusting, it had little or no taste.
Almost a minute passed before I worked up the courage to swallow, an act that was made possible only by a generous belt of a strong Korean liquor.
None of it, meanwhile, escaped our smiling audience. The women were having a genuinely good time, and the little boy, who must have been around 7, was putting his hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter.
Suffice to say that was the last piece I ate, although my friend did cram down two more pieces during the next 15 minutes.
While he claimed that the third chunk had the taste of beef, I have to believe he was kidding.
It was only after we took our leave and headed back down the alley that it hit me what I'd just done.
I don't know if I'll ever be able to look another cocker spaniel in the face.
This was not a case of puppy love.
And in the interest of fair response (and because I mentioned the STC connection), here's the related resident I'm happy to say I've never met:
A chowhound stirs the packChicago Sun-Times - Friday, October 21, 1988Author: Terry Boers
Love me tender.
Dear Terry,
You have written the most offensive, sickening, upsetting column (Sept. 18) I have ever read in your paper.
I believe you had full knowledge of the cruelties cats and dogs suffer in the Korean marketplace, and you chose to seek out a place that would serve you and your friend dog meat. I belong to a number of animal rights organizations and the West Suburban Humane Society. I intend to ask all of them to write and demand your firing.
Normally, I'm not as adamant and mean as this action indicates, but I am angry and shocked at the column.
Mrs. Richard Nowell, St. Charles
Dear Mrs. Nowell,
I'm glad you brought up my Los Angeles friend, who shared the hushed puppy meal with me. I'm more than a little worried about him. Do you know that ever since that night, he has this uncontrollable desire to be led around on a leash?
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