Green Pepper

I've borrowed the line from a friend that Squirrel Hill is "that place you used to live." He was talking to grad students; it's true, as far as I can tell, that we all used to live there, probably in a big house with lots of people, and then we all migrated north to Shadyside, Friendship, and Bloomfield.

But I take to missing Squirrel Hill, from time to time. It's got a youthful festiveness, at least on a sunny afternoon, with its ubiquity of froyo and ice cream, kids with dyed hair playing guitar on the street, families walking to the library, and teenagers near the thrift & record stores. Along with a dose of nostalgia, that gives me the energy, sometimes, to bike over the hill and visit some old favorites -- or, more likely, investigate the many changes to the neighborhood businesses since I lived there. The Panera, Barnes & Noble, and Dozen Bakeshop I remember on the southeast corner of Forbes & Murray have since been replaced with a waffle shop, froyo shop and I-forget-what-else.

Every so often, I hear of changes that bear investigation. A friend told me about Green Pepper, a Korean restaurant. I'd never properly had Korean food before, and I'd been thinking about it recently after a pair of friends had some to sample at their wedding and subsequently took off for a honeymoon in South Korea. So when my friend and frequent dining partner W and I were pondering where to go for dinner on a Sunday -- the constraints being it must be open, and it must be a moderate-length bike ride -- we (+1 other foodie friend, P) decided to try it.

I was not disappointed.

Bike parking was easy; Murray is lined with parking meters.

Apparently they've been around since 2010; I'm disappointed in myself for not trying them sooner.

Hip decor with k-pop music videos playing in the back.

We ordered some "mock girlie", which retrospective investigation reveals is a reading of makkeolli. It tasted to my unrefined palate like unfiltered sake; maybe a bit sweeter.

We ordered the kimchi pancake appetizer, which was deliciously sour and crispy and spicy.

My first ever bibimbap (vegetarian):

Bibimbap, for those of you who have yet to experience this delightful meal, is a huge, piping hot bowl with layered ingredients: rice, vegetables, protein (tofu in my case), and a raw egg. You have to pretty quickly get around to stirring it vigorously so you cook the egg. Some rice at the bottom is bound to scorch. This is wonderful.

With all the accompaniments, the booze, my mealmates' food, and the remainder of our pancake, we could barely fit all the food on the table. It was a glorious feast.

After we had happily stuffed ourselves, we were presented by surprise with a sort of chilled, sweet, tamarindy drink:

What's the little seed on top?, we wondered. Someone guessed pine nut, which I thought was wrong; it looked like some kind of seed to me. P and W each ate theirs, declaring "Yep, pine nut." I was still holding out some skepticism when the waiter came over and one of them asked him. "Pine nut!", he declared. I finished the meal with mine and conceded.