A Memory from a Korean-American Childhood – Hot Garbage or Delicious Stew?

When you were a kid, were you ever embarrassed to have friends come over to your home?

Sure, almost everyone is at some point.

And, I probably should’ve been but I wasn’t it. But probably not for the reason you think….

Growing up, my mom would cook us kids what she knew how to cook, which was Korean food. Although there was the occasional hamburger thrown in, Korean cuisine was the usual fare on the table in our house.

Living in the house, you just don’t notice the lingering smell of the foods you eat. This is, of course, for all foods not just Korean food.

However, let’s be honest. Korean food can be quite pungent. (I think my husband has come to terms with that. He’s willing to tolerate kimchi if there’s also Korean BBQ present.)

It’s this pungency that would surprise my non-Korean friends when they came over to the house.

But can I tell you? I was oblivious!

So when I say I probably should’ve been embarrassed but wasn’t, it’s not because of some sense of Korean heritage pride. But because I didn’t smell it! My nose had just become accustom to it.

That is until one particularly close childhood friend of mine, who was so close that he felt free to say the following, told me that our house smelled amazing when you first walked in. He said it smelled like girl’s shampoo, owing to the fact that there were three females living in the house.

But then, once you made it past the front entrance way and into the kitchen, you got a whiff of hot garbage!

Hot Garbage? Excuse me?

He truly didn’t mean any offense. There simply wasn’t any other way to describe this smell that was utterly foreign to him.

My mom had something bubbling on the stove. I’m sure it was some sort-of fish stew with lots of gochujang and doenjang. She was ever so fond of that particular stew.

There is no exhaust fan on the planet that could dissipate that smell. No amount of coffee brewing or febreezing was going to cut it. (That should totally be a Febreeze commercial! It there’s a scent that can neutralize that smell, I would buy a case!)

My had nose had become numb to it. But if I went away for awhile and came back, it was fresh again, so to speak.

But here’s the thing. If somebody blindfolded me and I didn’t already know that it was Korean stew, I’d think it was hot garbage too!

Saying that it was pungent is a gross understatement. And she cooked it all the time so it was quite embedded into our walls and furniture.

This is the odor my friend was referring to. My friend who grew up on chicken nuggets, hot dogs, and milk. There’s nothing wrong with that per se. It’s just so very different from how I grew up.

Yet there we were, best buddies. And we still are despite all these differences.

I think it just goes to show that you don’t have to have everything in common with your friends. Perhaps these differences make you more interesting. And instead of differences making hot garbage, the union of such differences can be surprisingly delicious like stew. (Hey, I never said it didn’t taste good, just smelly…so very smelly.)

So do I make my mom’s fish stew? That is a no. Sorry, my nose is still traumatized from childhood and I don’t want to have to repaint my house. I’m not even sure what it was! I think it was her own concoction!

It makes me wonder what odd smells my kid’s friends will notice in our house when the time comes. Dare I make the stinky stew of embarrassment?? 😉