By Andrei Lankov
There were no restaurants in old Korea. Well, this might be a bit of exaggeration, since a hungry traveler could usually find some place to eat, at least in a major city.
At a market there would be jumak, or wine tents where they sold not only liquors but also some side dishes. In some cases one could have a quick but nutritious meal at a market stall.
But these were eateries of a low order, and usually only for those who had no other choice but to eat out. It was a common assumption that a decent man under normal circumstances should eat at his home or, perhaps, at the home of his friends or relatives.
The restaurant as a place which combined the pleasures of good food with social interaction remained unknown in Korea until the late 19th century.
This was a major difference from both China and Japan where high-level restaurants (often doubling as high-level brothels) existed since times immemorial.
Personally, I believe that the absence of restaurants in Korea is yet another confirmation of the moderate role which merchants played in pre-modern Korean society. So, when restaurants were introduced to Korea a little over a century ago, the foreign influence was quite visible.
The first Korean restaurants were called yorijip, or houses of haute cuisine. When the yorijip first appeared, they could be described as Korean copies of a Japanese institution, which was flourishing in the Japan of the late 19th century, a geisha restaurant.
It was a place where well-placed and rich men could enjoy sophisticated food and discuss business while surrounded by beautiful, alluring and theoretically available geisha girls.
This was how business and politics were done in Japan, and it comes as no surprise to learn that the Japanese ways were copied in Korea.
The first restaurant of this type was opened in 1909 by An Sun-hwan, a former royal chef. He was quite successful at his job, but in the early 1900s the monarchy was clearly in decline.
An discovered that he would be able to earn much more by selling his skills to a wider public, and he chose to open his own restaurant.
This was not, perhaps, the first attempt to emulate the then fashionable Japanese tradition, but it was definitely the most successful one. The name of the restaurant was Myongwolgwan or House of Moonlight.
Its history was quite short, but it inspired a number of imitations, and for some time was seen as a symbol of luxury and sophistication.
The Myongwolgwan was located in the Gwanghwamun area, not far away from where the Donga Ilbo newspaper headquarters is (or, in other words, near the beginning of the Cheonggyecheon stream).
It was a two-story building, a rather unusual sight in 1909 Seoul where multi-story structures were a novelty. The first floor was occupied by the hall for common visitors, while the second was reserved for VIPs.
The most famous VIP room was known as the Maesil or Apricot Room. An ability to host a banquet there was a sign of great social prestige and financial success.
However, even the ``common visitors'' to Myongwolgwan were not that common. A meal at Myongwolgwan was a very costly pleasure, well above the means of the average Seoulite.
Around 1915 one would spend about 20 won per person for a rather simple meal. In those days, 20 won was the monthly salary of a highly skilled worker or a junior clerk.
In other words, it would be the rough equivalent of two million won nowadays ― an unbelievably high price for eating out.
So Myongwolgwan catered only to the chosen few, who could afford to pay for the food once available only to royalty. Indeed, An's chefs served the guests the royal cuisine at its best.
Myongwolgwan, like other yorijip of the era, was not a place for purely gastronomic pleasures. The presence of gisaeng girls was an important part of the package.
In the early 1900s, the old system of government-controlled gisaeng disappeared, but courtesans and entertainers continued to ply their trade as members of guilds, known as kwon-bon.
The most common site for their operations was a large restaurant, Myongwolgwan being the most successful and prestigious of all of them.
When a party was arranged, gisaeng guilds were contacted and they then dispatched girls to entertain the visitors with singing, dancing and coquettish talk.
Sometimes things moved much further, albeit not on the premises, but in most cases gisaeng did not sell sex, but rather a hint of sexual availability combined with sophisticated female companionship.
Commercially, An enjoyed great success, but in 1918 he was dealt a heavy blow: a fire destroyed the building and also his precious collection of ancient books and paintings.
In order to recover, he had to sell the brand name to another entrepreneur, and used the money to start a new business. He remained affluent, but by that time many other Korean businessmen had emulated the ``Myongwolgwan mode.''
However, in the early 1920s things began to change. The modern middle class began to grow, and its members wanted places where they could eat out at a reasonable price.
They did not need the expensive presence of gisaeng, but they needed good and interesting food. Thus, new types of eateries began to appear.
Professor Andrei Lankov was born in St. Petersburg, Russia, and now teaches at Kookmin University in Seoul. He has recently published ``The Dawn of Modern Korea,'' which is now on sale at Kyobo Book Center and other major bookstores. The book is based on columns published in The Korea Times. He can be reached at anlankov@yahoo.com.