I heard about Kogi from Anthony Bourdain. I met Anthony on Netflix and my first impression was that he tries a little bit too hard to be cool. I am of course a world authority on cool and Anthony’s overt efforts made me skeptical of his food recommendations. I normally prefer my food recommendations from people who have met me, which you cannot do via Netflix, but there was something about this particular recommendation that gave me pause.
Kimchi quesadilla.
Okay. Rewind that a bit and I will happily listen to your cynical voice over laced with expletives just to find out where I get kimchi quesadillas from a food truck.
Kogi. You get them at Kogi. You get them, you smell them, you eat them, and your mouth explodes. It is a happy explosion. If you were to be rude and chew with your mouth open, the sound of singing angels would escape. Those angels would sing in both Korean and Spanish, neither of which I understand, but taste buds are apparently polyglots.
Mr. Bourdain. You were right. I apologize and you can say whatever you want however you want as long as you point me to places like Kogi.
Brohammas 