닭발 볶음

I was walking down the street yesterday and I saw a street vendor selling that looked like stir fried beef. It looked pretty good, was fairly cheap, and I was hungry, so I bought some. (Typically, that is the kind of situation you buy food in.)

When I took a bite though, I was shocked. Instead of tasting like anything good, it reminded me of the time when my mom made chicken gizzards for dinner. Revolting is probably the best word for it. I looked back up at the sign and noticed the little bird claw next to the text. I was eating chicken feet! AAAHHH!

While I was debating the best course of action, I ate the green peppers and the onions out of it. I can't just walk away from it, I thought. The old lady will lose face if I say I don't like it. I had to find a way to get rid of it without embarrassing the ajuma.

I looked in my bookbag for a small plastic bag or something to dump it in. Nothing. I looked around for something -- anything -- I could put this stuff in so that I wouldn't have to eat it and still not offend the ajuma. Then I saw that the plates she used were wrapped with plastic bags. Asa!

While her back was turned, I sneaked the cover off the plate next to mine (that guy was long gone), then snuck the remaining chicken feet in the bag and tied it up, careful to leave a few so that the lady would think I was just full or had to go. I then palmed the little bag and walked off while her back was turned, not daring to look back. Whew!

Here's a Korean word to remember: 발. It means foot. Don't eat it.