Seoul | Shave It Up
If there's one summer staple across countries and cultures, it's ice cream. Whether it's gelato Italiano, kulfi from India, or American-as-apple-pie Ben & Jerry's, come summer, people around the world clamour for a cool, icy treat to stave off the heat. In Korea, the dessert de la saison is unquestionably bingsu -- a shaved ice dessert with a variety of toppings, which may include fruit, syrups, condensed milk, nuts and seeds. Think a sno-cone, but bigger (and better).
This dessert's traditional, and perhaps most ubiquitous iteration is patbingsu -- a mountain of shaved ice capped with sweetened red bean paste, or pat in Korean, and often garnished with chewy rice cakes or dusted with a finely ground roasted grain powder called misugaru. Patbingsu's origins are widely attributed to the Japanese colonial occupation of Korea in 1910-1945, when Koreans were inspired by a cold dish made from red bean paste, and then combined it with shaved ice to create a unique dessert that has certainly stood the test of time.
That doesn't mean, however, that shaved ice was an alien concept for Koreans prior to the 20th century. The history of bingsu reportedly dates back to the Joseon Dynasty. Records show that the seobingo -- the government official in charge of the royal ice box (that was an actual position) -- would share ice with his fellow officials, who would then crush it up and mix it with chopped fruit. Fast forward several centuries to the Korean War from 1950 to 1953, and this fruity granita-like dessert was undergoing yet another makeover as foreign influence led to the rise of ice cream, fruit cocktails, cereal, and whipped cream as popular toppings for bingsu.
With all that said and done, it is the traditional patbingsu that reigns king in the court of icy desserts in Korea, and I must profess to being one of its most loyal subjects. With temperatures climbing to their peaks and the summer heat leaching you dry, my family and I always make a beeline towards our favourite bingsu place. Bing Bing Bing is a small, brightly lit shop tucked away in a side street in Cheongdam-dong, run by the same lady who's been single-handedly manning both the counter and the kitchen since we first discovered the cafe ten years ago.
The menu boasts a modest variety of bingsu, including green tea, coffee, and yogurt, along with a rotating seasonal special, some drinks, and a surprisingly delicious carrot cake. Almost every single time we come here, though, we order the same thing: their milk bingsu with a side of red bean paste. After placing your order and settling into one of the sixteen seats, you soon hear the gentle whirring of the ice shaver. You try to distract yourself from your rising anticipation by staring at the cute penguins on the signs around you, when finally, a soft voice -- "Your bingsu is ready."
You turn around and see it: the tall, powdery mountain of finely shaved ice, cupped in a glass bowl as wide as your face. Long, slender spoons lie silver and expectant. Picking up the tray, carefully so as not to send the gleaming concoction toppling over, you bring it over and set it down on the table. The spoon is in your hand, and you gently scoop out some snow onto your tongue. It's sweet, cool, and you probably let out a moan or two. And that's when the demolishing begins.
What makes the bingsu at Bing Bing Bing so ethereal is how finely the ice is shaved, like winter's first snow. At most other places, you get chunky pieces of ice, which don't melt in your mouth so much as crunch in it. Also, instead of ice, milk is frozen into a block and then shaved in a bingsu machine, giving the ice itself a creamy, subtly sweet flavour that's complemented by the drizzle of condensed milk. The pat, while optional, is an essential component that adds an extra dose of sweetness, with savoury hints and texture from the beans. We like keeping it in its little ramekin instead of pouring it on top of the dessert, and scooping just a little bit to have with the bingsu so as not to overpower the lighter-than-cream ice. A couple pieces of chewy tteok sit atop the mountain of snow, and completes the bingsu trifecta of milky snow, red beans and rice cakes.
I don't think I've gotten more excited about food than I have with bingsu, which says a lot. But I'm not hyperbolizing when I say that this is probably what snow blanketing Mount Olympus tastes like... or Candy Land, if that's more your thing. So whether it's Bing Bing Bing in Korea, Grace Street in New York, or even your neighbourhood Caffe Bene, order some shaved ice and take a trip to heaven -- all for the cool price of $7 and a hundred or so calories.
Bing Bing Bing (빙빙빙)
5-29, Cheongdam-dong, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
Tel: 070-4177-7191
