A little market action

WHEN it comes to markets, I am overly enthusiastic.
It doesn't matter if I can't purchase - which is usually the case considering it's fairly unrealistic to lug fresh food 90 minutes back to Incheon from Seoul - all I want is to wander about soaking up the atmosphere, oohing and aahing over the colors and smells.
Our former housemate Sharon has moved into Seoul, and this is her local "supermarket" - there's no Lotte Mart or Emart to conquer, apparently it's just this market to purchase everything from meat and vegetables to bread and milk.
I like to imagine pulling along one of those granny trolleys or carrying an enormous heshian bag to load up on fresh goodies (for some reason shopping at the markets makes you feel more earthy, so no plastic bags in this hypothetical scenario - maybe a roomy wicker basket to sling over your arm).

So here goes, a visual walk through a typical Korean market and a few moments for me to imagine it's my local.

This particular market is a single aisle, about 100m long (maybe not, I'm hopeless with estimates) jammed to the hilt either side with food vendors.
At the start is crates brimming with bright fruits and vegetables: succulent red strawberries overflowing in styrofoam boxes and sun-kissed Korean melons spilling onto trays. Wander a little further and you reach the "fish/meat/poultry" section. Hundreds of cold fish are slapped onto display here, waiting to be dried, barbecued or perhaps put into the obligatory spicy Korean jji-gae.

One Korean fellow has a rolling pin in hand, stretching, pressing and rolling fresh kal-guk-su noodles, which are wound tightly together in bundles and dusted with flour. Then there's bags and bags of puffed rice cereals and snacks.

The tteok stalls are fantastic - steaming slabs of dense rice cake of all different varieties. Some topped with slivers of pumpkin, mixtures of dried fruit and red beans. Others just plain or coloured into rainbow layers.

Apparently the younger generation of Koreans are not so keen on tteok as their tastebuds are now more honed to sweet western-style treats. I read about a special cafe in Seoul that opened up to address this issue by making tteok a little more hip, offering more updated varieties. Will have to check out and report back.

I like the traditional for now though - a good sponge of tteok is really moist and best warm, straight from the steamer. To me, it's the Korean equivalent of a hot scone puffing with heat from the oven - minus the jam and dollop of cream. Pity, that.

Wes prepares to wander the markets with former Yeonsu-Gu gals Sharon (left) and Vanessa.