Dana and I stopped by South Philly to give Nancy a fix of kimchi. Shady.
It’s funny how Nancy likes the stuff more than I do. There were a bunch of guys who lived in the floor above me in my apartment building when I was at Baltimore. The Chinese guys used to complain about the kimchi the Korean guys left in the fridge — mostly about how pungently it stank — until they started getting hooked. I think every Korean has some story about a Chinese friend of theirs who used to beg them to bring back some kimchi when they went home.
food, kimchi, nancy