I’ve long since forgotten that guy, but I never forgot the analogy he made. And that awkward moment was what fueled me through 22 med school applications and 20 exhausting interviews for residency. Whenever the electronic mailman brought yet another rejection, I would stand in front of the mirror and say, “Kelsey, you're a mongoose. And this is just another snake". Don’t worry, I only said that when no one else could hear me.
Being a mongoose got me through a lot. Today I'm loving every moment as a junior resident, but now that I no longer need to be an adorably underestimated little ball of fur, my spirit animal has become the sloth. Instead of that hard-working, always-trying pre-residency person, I’ve started cashing my paychecks at chipotle, and the only cleaning I do is in the shower.
Good thing I ended up at Honey Pig for dinner. The staff took pity and did the hard part for us fumbling foreigners. They grabbed the tongs and faced the fury of a hot half-dome grill so we could feast without lifting a finger. First, they laid out the Bulgolgi with the trademark sauce soaked all the way through. The sweet, slippery slices sizzled, and we took our time savoring every bite of beef.
It’s not Korean barbecue unless you have bulgolgi, but if you haven’t tried the fatty-piggy Pork Belly, you’re definitely missing out. The belly is interlaced with ribbons of fat that drip off the sides and add a burst of flavor to every silky bite.
Just when I started rubbing my protruding belly, the server poured a bowl of tofu and seasoned rice over the grill. The rice mixes with the kimchee and bean sprouts, and together, they cook in the drippings of the pork and beef for a meaty, mind-blowing Kimchee Fried Rice.
My options have been pretty limited in K-town ever since I went from mongoose to sloth. If I won’t even microwave my own food at home, there is no way I’m paying someone to let me cook my own food in a restaurant. But I’d go back to Honey Pig even if they made me cut my own meat… but I’d probably bring some friends…