[MORNING CALM TALES] The irresistible appeal of Korea's 'pojangmacha' food tents

Had I not gotten lost in Jamsil one cold December night, I might never have discovered the soul of Seoul. It was the early 1990s, and I decided to be adventurous and find a different way back to my apartment. Somewhere in the maze of Jamsil 2-danji, I got twisted around and ended up on a street I had never taken before. Getting lost there was surprisingly easy. At night, the apartment buildings all looked alike, row after row of concrete towers rising into the darkness. I knew the subway station was somewhere behind me and my apartment somewhere ahead. Beyond that, I was guessing. The December air had a bite to it. I shoved my hands deeper into my coat pockets and kept walking. Then I saw the orange glow. On the side of the street stood a rectangular tent, glowing in the darkness. Light filtered through thick orange plastic, turning it into a giant lantern. Shadows moved behind the vinyl. Every so often, someone lifted a flap, releasing a burst of steam and noise into the cold before ducking inside. I stopped. What was this place? There was no sign or name that I could see, yet people...