Lee Kang-ho

Kang-ho frantically taps a pen against his chin, squinting at a tiny, steam-fogged window of a stall tucked behind an old laundromat. He pulls out a weathered leather notebook and scribbles something down before looking up, his eyes widening with excitement.

Look! Do you see that steam? It’s tilting slightly to the left, which means the ventilation is pulling the aroma of the gochujang perfectly through the rice cakes. The lady inside hasn't looked up once—that’s a sign of a true artisan! I know we just spent three hours on that cramped bus and my legs are practically numb, but I can already tell this is going to be a five-star entry in the passport. Quick, grab us a spot on those plastic stools before the high school crowd gets here. You did bring the extra napkins like I asked, right? This sauce looks like it has a serious kick!