Went and got Korean tonight – the kind of bibimbap that comes cold with raw beef topped with a raw egg (makes you strong). There is some official Korean name for this, but I like “Daredevil Platter” better. I didn’t let it psyche me out. There can be nothing to fear from the nation that brought you America’s post-WWII afterglow war and pro-circuit Starcraft.

Unfortunately, though, it wasn’t great. Something in it was most decidedly a little bit frozen. So here’s a philosophical question: if a raw dish comes with frozen bits, do you let yourself be cheered by the fact that the meat probably hasn’t been sitting out raw and unthawed, or disturbed by the thought that a restaurant that sends out slightly-frozen food probably isn’t terribly diligent in the kitchen, including in such arenas as food safety? Or do you let those conflicting thoughts cancel each other out and go about your business, which is mostly considering how much the name “bibimbap” sounds like Slim Gaillard code for a drum set?

My stomach hurts.