Masitda Restaurant, Baltimore, Wednesday Evening

[spin_kick_snap]

To tell the truth and shame the devil--a saying Kathy's mom had adored when she was alive--when Dante had suggested that they go out for Korean food, Kathy hadn't expected much. Dante didn't speak the language, didn't know the culture, and his only real introduction to the cuisine was what Kathy cooked at home and the hundred of weird bottle and jars of seasoning she kept in the door of the fridge, next to the more normal bottles of mayo and ketchup and relish. It wasn't that she was expecting it to be bad or anything, but she'd figured something middle-of-the-road, declaring its authenticity by blaring k-pop from the mid-2000s with two kinds of kimchi at most and a couple of sushi offerings to round out the 'Asianness' of the menu. All of which would have been perfectly fine and Kathy would have gone home, full and happy, and not given it another thought.

She realized she was wrong the moment they stepped into the restaurant. It smelled like home, evoking a sense of nostalgia and homesickness so sharp she rocked backwards on her heels for a moment. The table next to them had seven different banchan bowls on one side of it and over the shoulder of another patron, she could spot a menu page devoted entirely to different kinds of kimchi, several of which had seasonal warnings next to them. Apparently this place thought it wouldn't do to serve Yeolmu-kimchi in the middle of winter and you know what? They were goddamn right.

Kathy reached for Dante's hand, squeezing it tightly, letting her grip speak louder than she could right then about how pleased she was with his choice of restaurant for the evening.

[Not for broadcast and for that guy she's with!]

Comments

[spin_kick_snap]

"I'm always thirsty," Kathy told him with a wry smile. "It's a goddamn problem is what it is."

Closing her menu, she caught the waiter's eye and nodded. "You wanna take a stab at pronouncing everything you're gonna order?"

[rebelseekspizza]

"Oh, no, I'm pointing at pictures," Dante said.

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy laughed at him. "That's it, clearly I need to start teaching you Korean just so you can order meat like a grownup when we go out," she declared. "I can order for us to spare you the indignity of pictionary."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Just get me the dishes with the most meat in them," Dante said.

While helpfully tapping them on the menu.

[spin_kick_snap]

"I'm just going to tell them to cut up a whole cow into manageable pieces and bring it out to you," Kathy decided. "Maybe add some greens for garnish that I can steal after you ignore them."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Aw, c'mon," Dante said. "And here I was even thinking about trying some of that kimchi stuff you're all over all the time."

[spin_kick_snap]

"You will?" Kathy asked, almost bouncing in her seat a little. "I mean, I ordered the winter kimchi sampler platter, so you're more than welcome to just nibble a bit on mine to try it. But if you wanna get your own, I'm not going to complain."

...She'd already scarfed down the kimchi that came with the banchan assortment, or she'd offer him some of that, too. Oops.

[rebelseekspizza]

"Not getting a whole platter, that's a little much," Dante said, after a beat. "Do they come in like, mini?"

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy nodded. "Kimchi's a side more than anything else," she told him. "You have a couple of spoonfuls with your meal is all."

Just...with every meal. And sometimes as a snack.

"Korean dinners are meant to be eaten with a big bowl of rice and a platter of something--usually meat--and then surrounded by tons of tiny little side dishes," she explained, poking at the tiny banchan bowls. "So a lot of meat and rice and then a few mouthfuls of everything else for flavor and contrast."

[rebelseekspizza]

"I can learn to live with that," Dante decided, eyeing those little bowls. "You should make Korean more often."

[spin_kick_snap]

Their waiter made it over, bringing another round of banchan bowls.

"Ready to order?" he asked, giving them a polite smile.

"We are," Kathy asked. "Hangkulmal-haseyo?"

The waiter grinned. //Of course! Like Auntie would let me out of the house if I didn't!//

Kathy laughed. //It's just been so long since I've had a chance to speak it. I've missed it.//

//This is what you get for dating white boys,// the waiter teased, his eyes sliding over to Dante with appreciation. //Though I can see why. Goddamn, noona, get it.//

That just made Kathy laugh harder as she listed off her order. "Am I ordering for you?" she asked Dante, "or are we going with pointing?"

[rebelseekspizza]

"You look like you got this handled," Dante said, holding his hands up.

[spin_kick_snap]

"Don't worry, I know what you like," Kathy said.

"Bet you do, noona," the waiter said in English.

Kathy snickered again, then added Dante's order to hers and sent the waiter off for several bottles of soju. "You have a new admirer," she told Dante as soon as their waiter was out of earshot.

[rebelseekspizza]

"Told you," Dante said cheerfully, settling back.

[spin_kick_snap]

"Right, because I ever doubted your ability to turn heads," Kathy snorted. "Definitely a thing I was uncertain about."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Told you there was at least one gay server," Dante amended. "But thanks, Kat."

[spin_kick_snap]

"No ditching me for our cute Korean waiter," Kathy chided, not that she was actually worried he would. "For one thing, Auntie might not ever let me come back if my date went off and debauched her staff."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Ah, don't worry," Dante said, grinning. "I got all the Korean I need at this table."

[spin_kick_snap]

"And you're saying that before all the meat shows up to be grilled," Kathy said, her hand on her forehead. "It is love."

Their waiter showed up and handed over two bottles of soju, with a wink for Dante and a cheerful grin towards Kathy, but didn't stay to chat.

"You remember soju, right?" Kathy asked, checking the proof. "This one's about vodka strength." She reached for his cup and filled it about halfway up with soju. "Drinking is huge in Korea, did I ever tell you that? Oh my god, you'd love it. It's part of any kind of, like, work or social bonding time. And one of the rules is you never pour your own alcohol."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Never pour your own alcohol, huh?" Dante said, reaching to take the bottle from there. "Why's that?"

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy shrugged. "It's just rude. Like, you're supposed to watch other people's drinks and make sure they don't run out, but focusing on your own looks selfish. So you trust everyone else to keep yours topped up and do the same for others. It's all very community-oriented."

And then he finished pouring, she deliberately picked up her cup with both hands. "This means 'thank you,'" she said, demonstrating. "You pick your cup up with two hands after someone pours to show appreciation."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Okay," Dante said.

He followed her example, picking the cup up with both hands. "Good?"

[spin_kick_snap]

"You're a natural," Kathy told him. "I'll be dragging you around Korea doing Oh Cha like a pro."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Do I wanna know what that is?" Dante asked, and took a sip of his drink. Mmm.

[spin_kick_snap]

"Five rounds," Kathy said with a grin. "When you go out with a group, there are five stops you make throughout the night. First is dinner where you drink soju. Then you hit up a Hof to order fried food with beer, and then a second Hof, a Western-style one, where it's just booze, no drinking. By this time, everyone's nice and drunk, so you head to a noraebang to do karaoke in a private room for an hour or so. And then everyone who is still mobile heads to a nightclub or a disco to dance for a bit and finish up drinking there."

Her smirk deepened. "Think you could hang, white boy?"