The BET

So on Sunday, my parents took me, Sharon, Patrick and Mia to a japanese restaurant in Daehak-no. It's a good place, if you're ever out in Seoul and in need of a hearty japanese meal. My dad is a regular here, and so he proceeded to order among many tasty dishes, what he deemed his favorite, fried chicken. For those of you who have experienced Baden Baden, or bonchon chicken in the NY area, it's a similar feel, but BETTER. So he ordered one dish too many of this chicken and we ended up with leftovers. Dad wanted to get them wrapped up and then take them home to eat, but we all objected: would he really want to eat fried chicken, the day after? Would he even remember to eat it again? He insisted--I can admire my dad for this, since he never likes to see food go to waste--and even though the restaurant policy was that they couldn't really allow for take out bags, they still wrapped the three pieces of chicken in foil for him.



Just for size reference...the package in relation to a grapefruit.


In jest (but not really) I proposed a bet:
"Hey Dad, I bet you 20 bucks that you won't eat that chicken."

"NAOOOO..... ehee." My father shot me a look that said, 'don't start with me.'

"Come on dad."

"Joanna." Fine. I knew he wouldn't really eat it the next day, but he was bent on taking it home, so much so, that after the waitress had brought the package back to him, he picked up the bill and left. Sharon called after him, "Dr RO! aren't you going to take your chicken?"

And I said to Patrick, "I already won the bet...."

Flash forward to today. This morning, as we were getting ready to leave for Chejudo, my mom was cleaning out the fridge and noticed a foil package. "Uh, eegheh moh yah? What is this?" AHHA! It was the untouched chicken.

Laughing, I turned to my dad, and said, "I won the bet TWICE!"
To which he responded, "Bring it here."
NO, he didn't eat it. WHO WANTS TWO-DAY OLD Fried chicken?

The pride. the pride of the korean man....