I never ate 'school lunch' growing up. My mom always gave us peanut butter sandwiches with a side of apple sauce and sent us off to school with good food from home. In high school, dad usually gave us the occasional dollar that we'd either spend on packaged food (read: chips) or those awesome ice cream cookies. Also packaged, but a notable favorite. Man I miss those. (Actually, in Korea, I miss any cookie that biting into doesn't cause a tooth fracture.)
Never having had to eat an actual on-a-tray school lunch, I always thought of them as gross. They probably weren't. The pizza never looked good, though, being square and all. Then there were the vegetables, which were probably just microwaved in a massive feed-600-kids-sized bowl. There was also probably a main dish, but nothing comes to mind.
Why did I think school lunches were gross? They had food that I was accustomed to eating, that was prepared the way I was accustomed to eating it. I went to public schools, and those were probably governed by some sort of FDA rules, or at least had rules of their own for hand washing and making sure utensils were clean. The trays were cleaned via an actual dishwasher using water that most likely reached boiling point, as were all the other kitchen instruments that touched food and/or cafeteria chef's hands, most definitely before being used again.
Now that I live in Korea, I take back all the gross things I've ever thought about the public-school cafeteria tray lunch.
Why? If you have to ask why, you've probably never set foot on Korean soil. Let me explain.
*Disclaimer: I work at a private academy, and have not yetbeen subjected to had the opportunity to enjoy a public school lunch. Maybe they're different. Most likely, they're not. Maybe even worse, because private academies cater to the upper-middle to high class kids, and bring in about $300 per kid per month, and my school has about 100 kids who get lunch each day, while public schools are looked down upon for having to cater to the masses. (In short, not everyone can afford to send their kids to private academies. Let alone 6 private academies at the same time.)
**The following photos are, in fact, my own, and were taken of the school lunches I have been served at the private academy at which I work. I believe these photos to be a fair representation of the food I receive daily. (Except Fridays when they serve Jjamyang, which I can't eat because it's black bean covered noodles and black beans still make me vomit (actually), and imitation crab fried rice, which I can't eat or I might die because of my allergy to imitation crab.)
Exhibit One:
That's rice and some kind of brothy soup on the bottom (soup mostly eaten), and left to right on top holds spouts coated in red pepper paste, kimchi, and fried egg.
Let's start with the food.
Firstly, what 5 year old likes sprouts? I'm almost 30 and I can't stand them. As for the rest of it, I'm used to eating it, but only because it's free and I've been here 2 years and can look the other way. I've become accustomed to ignoring a lot of would-be western-culture taboos over here. But try giving kimchi to a kindergartener at home and see what happens. Two years ago, the only appetizing thing on this tray would have been the fried egg. No doubt it is still the most appetizing, but I've gotten used to the other stuff. (That only speaks for this particular tray, and I still don't eat the sprouts.)
Exhibit Two:
Still on the food.
You can see the bottom is a bowl of rice (about 1 cup cooked) and some brothy looking soup. (This is an every day thing.) This is seaweed soup. Aside from the seaweed, seaweed soup usually has left over bits of tofu floating around in it. It's always cold when I get it because I don't eat until 3.5 hours after they've made everything. Reheating is not a Korean thing. Why waste the energy reheating when you can just serve cold and expect it to be eaten?
Again, I'm used to eating this. It's the top three that are more interesting.
Starting on the left, that's mountain root. No one knows it by its actual name, just that it's some stick-like root substance that apparently grows on the mountain. Which mountain? No idea. It's natural form is ... a stick. Add it to soup in stick form and it tastes like you're eating a tree with tree bits floating around in it. The particular root on the tray pictured here has been turned into brown, gelatinous stuff. Still smells and tastes like a tree. Plus it's brown. Did I mention gelatinous? Yay.
Next we have kimchied radish. And you thought kimchi was just a food. Yes, kimchi can also be a verb. A food can be kimchied. Just add a significant portion of red pepper paste and ferment.
Ending the trio of sides is egg + pork. At least I think it was pork. It had no taste, but the consistency was there. The egg was soft-boiled and cut up into bite-sized pieces, and drizzled in some kind of yellow sauce. I now understand the 'sauce on the side' that we used to request at our favorite Chinese restaurant at home. Korea and China are two very different countries, but Koreans put sauce on everything, too, and get offended when you don't want any sauce. I should mention I don't like sauce. On anything.
Exhibit Three:
I have no photos of this, so you'll just have to take my word. The kitchen in my academy is about the size of my first Korean apartment. (Read: very, very tiny, about 100 square feet.) It's loaded with about five always-overflowing recycling trashcans. One for cans, paper, food trash, plastic, etc. Right next to the trashcans sits a little portable gas grill that holds one pot - the soup pot. Oh, and it's on the floor. Next to that is the sink area, and that's always filled with unwashed bowls. This is where the soup ladle sits. In the sink, I mean. Between the sink and the window are the two trays that the foreign teachers' lunches are served on. (If I give too much thought to why they're separated, I may never be able to have a free school lunch again.) The other side of the room holds a few large tables where the trays are prepped for each kindergarten teacher to come in and grab their class's daily lunch and snacks, as well as two big cooler-type refrigerators where the cold food (and, I have a feeling, any left overs, regardless if it was on one's tray or not) is stored.
Conclusion One (yes, there's more than one):
I know I've raked these lunches over the coals, but it's really only for those at home to get a comparison. I do have the option to go out and buy my lunch somewhere else (albeit Korean food, as well). (Which is what I have been doing for the past 3 weeks or so, ever since we got a new lunch lady who cooks things a bit differently, after I'd gotten used to the previous lunch lady's cooking.) But most of the time, I do choose to take advantage of this free lunch because it really isn't bad. It's also only about 500 calories for a filling meal.
Conclusion Two:
I like to believe that I'll be the loving mother that buys their kid a Power Rangers or Disney Princess lunchbox and stuffs it with peanut butter sandwiches, fruit I've cut up on the cutting board that morning, a juice box, and homemade chocolate chip cookies that make their friends jealous. However, if I ever need a day off from that, I shall provide them with stories of my time in Korea and hand them their lunchbox with a few dollars stuffed inside of it so they can get a proper slice of pizza and one of those ice cream cookies from the a la carte stand.
Conclusion Three:
I believe Korea's food industry is why Koreans have such a high tolerance to germs. Hand sanitizer isn't big here, covering one's face during a cough or sneeze is just silly, and chewing with one's mouth open lets the cook know you think their food is good.
The Common Denominator:
On the bright side, school lunches in Korea and America do have one common denominator: The lunch ladies. They just want to make sure you've had enough to eat, and always serve you with a smile. (Even if you send the brown, gelatinous, mountain-root stuff back.)
Never having had to eat an actual on-a-tray school lunch, I always thought of them as gross. They probably weren't. The pizza never looked good, though, being square and all. Then there were the vegetables, which were probably just microwaved in a massive feed-600-kids-sized bowl. There was also probably a main dish, but nothing comes to mind.
Why did I think school lunches were gross? They had food that I was accustomed to eating, that was prepared the way I was accustomed to eating it. I went to public schools, and those were probably governed by some sort of FDA rules, or at least had rules of their own for hand washing and making sure utensils were clean. The trays were cleaned via an actual dishwasher using water that most likely reached boiling point, as were all the other kitchen instruments that touched food and/or cafeteria chef's hands, most definitely before being used again.
Now that I live in Korea, I take back all the gross things I've ever thought about the public-school cafeteria tray lunch.
Why? If you have to ask why, you've probably never set foot on Korean soil. Let me explain.
*Disclaimer: I work at a private academy, and have not yet
**The following photos are, in fact, my own, and were taken of the school lunches I have been served at the private academy at which I work. I believe these photos to be a fair representation of the food I receive daily. (Except Fridays when they serve Jjamyang, which I can't eat because it's black bean covered noodles and black beans still make me vomit (actually), and imitation crab fried rice, which I can't eat or I might die because of my allergy to imitation crab.)
Exhibit One:
That's rice and some kind of brothy soup on the bottom (soup mostly eaten), and left to right on top holds spouts coated in red pepper paste, kimchi, and fried egg.
Let's start with the food.
Firstly, what 5 year old likes sprouts? I'm almost 30 and I can't stand them. As for the rest of it, I'm used to eating it, but only because it's free and I've been here 2 years and can look the other way. I've become accustomed to ignoring a lot of would-be western-culture taboos over here. But try giving kimchi to a kindergartener at home and see what happens. Two years ago, the only appetizing thing on this tray would have been the fried egg. No doubt it is still the most appetizing, but I've gotten used to the other stuff. (That only speaks for this particular tray, and I still don't eat the sprouts.)
Exhibit Two:
Still on the food.
You can see the bottom is a bowl of rice (about 1 cup cooked) and some brothy looking soup. (This is an every day thing.) This is seaweed soup. Aside from the seaweed, seaweed soup usually has left over bits of tofu floating around in it. It's always cold when I get it because I don't eat until 3.5 hours after they've made everything. Reheating is not a Korean thing. Why waste the energy reheating when you can just serve cold and expect it to be eaten?
Again, I'm used to eating this. It's the top three that are more interesting.
Starting on the left, that's mountain root. No one knows it by its actual name, just that it's some stick-like root substance that apparently grows on the mountain. Which mountain? No idea. It's natural form is ... a stick. Add it to soup in stick form and it tastes like you're eating a tree with tree bits floating around in it. The particular root on the tray pictured here has been turned into brown, gelatinous stuff. Still smells and tastes like a tree. Plus it's brown. Did I mention gelatinous? Yay.
Next we have kimchied radish. And you thought kimchi was just a food. Yes, kimchi can also be a verb. A food can be kimchied. Just add a significant portion of red pepper paste and ferment.
Ending the trio of sides is egg + pork. At least I think it was pork. It had no taste, but the consistency was there. The egg was soft-boiled and cut up into bite-sized pieces, and drizzled in some kind of yellow sauce. I now understand the 'sauce on the side' that we used to request at our favorite Chinese restaurant at home. Korea and China are two very different countries, but Koreans put sauce on everything, too, and get offended when you don't want any sauce. I should mention I don't like sauce. On anything.
Exhibit Three:
I have no photos of this, so you'll just have to take my word. The kitchen in my academy is about the size of my first Korean apartment. (Read: very, very tiny, about 100 square feet.) It's loaded with about five always-overflowing recycling trashcans. One for cans, paper, food trash, plastic, etc. Right next to the trashcans sits a little portable gas grill that holds one pot - the soup pot. Oh, and it's on the floor. Next to that is the sink area, and that's always filled with unwashed bowls. This is where the soup ladle sits. In the sink, I mean. Between the sink and the window are the two trays that the foreign teachers' lunches are served on. (If I give too much thought to why they're separated, I may never be able to have a free school lunch again.) The other side of the room holds a few large tables where the trays are prepped for each kindergarten teacher to come in and grab their class's daily lunch and snacks, as well as two big cooler-type refrigerators where the cold food (and, I have a feeling, any left overs, regardless if it was on one's tray or not) is stored.
Conclusion One (yes, there's more than one):
I know I've raked these lunches over the coals, but it's really only for those at home to get a comparison. I do have the option to go out and buy my lunch somewhere else (albeit Korean food, as well). (Which is what I have been doing for the past 3 weeks or so, ever since we got a new lunch lady who cooks things a bit differently, after I'd gotten used to the previous lunch lady's cooking.) But most of the time, I do choose to take advantage of this free lunch because it really isn't bad. It's also only about 500 calories for a filling meal.
Conclusion Two:
I like to believe that I'll be the loving mother that buys their kid a Power Rangers or Disney Princess lunchbox and stuffs it with peanut butter sandwiches, fruit I've cut up on the cutting board that morning, a juice box, and homemade chocolate chip cookies that make their friends jealous. However, if I ever need a day off from that, I shall provide them with stories of my time in Korea and hand them their lunchbox with a few dollars stuffed inside of it so they can get a proper slice of pizza and one of those ice cream cookies from the a la carte stand.
Conclusion Three:
I believe Korea's food industry is why Koreans have such a high tolerance to germs. Hand sanitizer isn't big here, covering one's face during a cough or sneeze is just silly, and chewing with one's mouth open lets the cook know you think their food is good.
The Common Denominator:
On the bright side, school lunches in Korea and America do have one common denominator: The lunch ladies. They just want to make sure you've had enough to eat, and always serve you with a smile. (Even if you send the brown, gelatinous, mountain-root stuff back.)
oh kate,
ReplyDeletei do love your writing style.
love, mom