…… because this evening I went out all by myself to a spit-and-sawdust neighbourhood restaurant. I’d had to leave poor old Malcolm tucked up on his mattress to catch up on lost sleep. Food was of no interest to him.
No tourists here. No English menu. But I managed to order spiced octopus stew, and later to say it was delicious and ask for the bill. I tackled my six kinds of kimchee, sizzling fishy broth, a pot of rice and the octopus with no kind of panache and almost certainly appalling table manners. My fellow diners – and the waitress – cut me lots of slack.
Here’s a photo of my kimchee selection.
Tomorrow will be easier. Emily arrives. Hooray!