Jon Dunbar is a copy editor at The Korea Times, as well as editor of the Foreign Community page and curator of the Korea Times Archive. If you have suggestions for possible articles, or wish to contribute articles yourself, contact jdunbar@koreatimes.co.kr.
Holiday in North Korea Exploring traditional liquor in North Korea
An array of liquor that is made in North Korea is on display Korea Times photo by Jon Dunbar
By Jon Dunbar
By Jon Dunbar
A close-up look at the snake-liquor Korea Times photo by Jon Dunbar
“Has anyone seen my pet snake?” I shouted, running through the bus.
It alarmed some of my fellow travelers, but the snake I was talking about was safely contained in a bottle full of 60 percent alcohol. I'd bought a bottle of baemsul (snake liquor) at a souvenir shop on the North Korean side of the Demilitarized Zone, and had to give it to the bus driver to get it back on our tour bus.
The bottle turned up, and our anxiety was relieved ― mine, at least.
When I showed my North Korean guide, he scrunched up his face in disgust. “It smells terrible,” he warned me.
I'd first heard of baemsul in a song by the now-defunct South Korean rockabilly band
, named after a North Korean action movie. All I knew was it came with a snake in the bottle, sort of like the worm in a bottle of tequila, only much bigger and more venomous.
I had no intention of drinking the stuff; it still sits on top of my fridge as a souvenir of my September 2018 visit to the North.
You've probably heard claims that North Korean beer is better than the South's. It's not so outlandish, although South Korea's craft beer scene has undeniably pulled ahead, even if the North's Taedonggang Beer outclasses the bland, unnatural-flavored lagers OB and Hite keep mass-producing. Equal attention should be paid to North Korea's traditional liquors.
In my travels there, I saw signs that many of the alcohol traditions forgotten in the South are still alive up North, although I didn't get to try as many kinds as I would have liked. There are a number of ginseng-infused liquors, but it is the soju that impressed me the most.
The first time I tried North Korean soju was during my August 2010 trip. We were at a restaurant in Pyongyang, sitting at one table while our guides sat at another. It was smooth and natural-tasting, and didn't cause a horrible hangover the next morning.
There was very little room on our tables for all the individual plates and glasses, so I asked my guides if it was okay to mix the soju and beer.
They answered with an alarmed “No, don't!”
“You mean you don't mix soju and beer in Korea?” I said. “Then, if anybody asks, I invented it. I think I'll name it…somaek.”
Unfortunately I didn't get a chance to register it with the North Korean patent office (which does indeed
), but if you visit and hear anyone throwing around that word, please tell them I invented it.
I managed to bring back samples of North Korean liquor to the South after both my trips, and they seem to have impressed my friends and coworkers who got a taste.
South Koreans have a lot to learn about traditional alcohol, and they can learn through their Northern cousins. While South Korea enacted laws in the 1960s that basically doomed the nation's cottage industry of alcohol production, mainly as efforts to save rice in times of scarcity, North Korea seems to have thrown caution to the wind and kept the soju flowing. The soju you can get in North Korea is made using traditional techniques, distilled from rice, and is just about as authentic as the luxury Andong Soju brand in the South, without the high price.
Unfortunately, I don't know when I'll try North Korean liquor again. It may still be possible to buy some bottles from souvenir shops at DMZ tourist sites on the South side, but the variety and supply probably aren't great. If relations warm again, maybe we can get the liquor flowing, and if we get the liquor flowing, maybe we can see relations warming further.