On my previous post, I talked a little bit about my misadventure in Inchon Airport. I would like to return to talking a bit more about the city. Now as a fairly large city on the coast next to the largest city in South Korea, Seoul, Inchon sees a fair bit of Seoulites visiting on the weekends, eager to escape the crowd and dizzying hustle and bustle of the city. Because of its proximity, less than 45 minutes from Seoul by car, some Seoul workers have decided to move out to Inchon to better be able to afford the ubiquitous high rise apartments.

For those that do make it out to Inchon for a day trip from the capital, the main draw probably is the sea. I wouldn’t exactly call it a picturesque beach city, more like giant mud-flat beach front. Nevertheless, where there is ocean, there is seafood, and Inchon has them in great giant spades.

A friend of mine took me to the sea food market as a farewell lunch type thing, and they would see me off, as Inchon Airport is rather conveniently located in the same city. And I, being an eater of anything that swims, was pretty happy. The drive out to Inchon was quite pleasant. One either has an SUV or a sedan in Korea (quite distinct from Japan, where SUV has all the cachet of a farm tractor), and my friend drove a Hyundai Santa Fe. Except, unlike Santa Fes sold in America, this one was a noisy, clattery diesel. Didn’t smell like one, though.
Anyway, like many Korean drivers, he drove like a maniac, and upon finding a parking space on the street near a fish market, we headed off to see just what kind fresh sea food would be available for sale. All along the sidewalk were huge nets that were spread apart, drying in the sun, apparently ready to be mended by the fishermen. The smell of the sea, salty and tangy, made me hungry like a proverbial mofo.

The market itself is a shock to the senses. All around is the din of fishmongers calling out their wares, and many implored me to take a gander at their fine, live crabs, as well, that particular seafood smell was omnipresent, and the sheer sight of all things swimming and squirming and swimming was enough to make anyone apoplectic.
The crabs that were on sale did look mighty fine, though, and quite a bargain too. But what would i do with a live crab three hours before my flight leaves Korea? Would they confiscate live crabs at Japanese customs? I had no idea. Regardless, my buddy does buy three large crabs, and asks the rubber booted fishmonger’s wife to hold it for us.
Another really cool thing i saw were small baby octopi, the kind where you don’t even bother cooking and just dip em into some sauce and eat them live, squirming and choking you from inside out. I didn’t try this, being a wuss that I am. But I hear they go really well with some soju.
There are absolutely astoundg number and variety of shell fish, some as big as my fists, and some typically smaller manila-clam looking bivalves. Oysters were plenty, and so were all sorts of different variety of multi-hued mussels. I’m getting hungry just typing this.
So we return to retrieve our crabs, and head off to a VERY casual restaurant where all the chairs are plastic, and interior decoration consisted of fading beer posters on bare walls. Each table was round, with a pit in the middle, and in this pit the proprietor of the place placed a metal pail of VERY hot natural wood charcoal. The effect, in this early summer day, was unbearble heat, but one figures it’s all part of some kind of exotic culinary experience.
First, they bring out a pair of gloves for each diner. Not rubber or nice ones with flowers on them or anything, just coarse, cotton workman’s glove, presumably to shield one’s hand from the intense heat and to guard against cuts. Then they bring out a arge metal bucket, in which to toss in discarded shell fish, and the piece de resistance, the bivalves themselves in another large pail. And with that and some tongs, we got to work on placing these mussles, oysters, and clams on the fiery grill in front of us.

If you ever have a chance to do these kinds of grilling, take my advice and wear some safety goggles. When the outside of these shellfish reach a critical temperature, without any warning they will go *CRACK* and pieces of calcium-laden shell bits will go flying in supersonic speeds, usually towards your face. After a while, I felt like I was facing a firing squad, and learned to not look directly at the cooking shellfish, but rather obliquely, and with a hard squint, lest i be henceforth be known as the “one-eyed sea shell shucker”.
Oh, right. The taste. It was incredible, these fire grilled shellfish. The fire essentially concentrates all the liquor these shellfish have inside, making them taste severely awesome. In fact, giant clams are usually pretty tough and tasteless, but using this method, they had the most excellent sea-weedy flavor and just the right chewiness.
We gorged ourselves like it was going out of style, and just when i thought we’d finished, the owner saunters over and on the very same grill lays out a pot and with remainder of shell fish, makes some excellent hot(temperature and spiciness) seafood stew.
But what about the crabs?
My friend tosses these on the grill too, and I am amzed that they can shove more seafood into their maw. I was done, man, and gave up my claim on the crab to these ravenous wolves. I’m pretty sure they were extremely delicious as well…