Photo from Bionic Bites
My family would pick up soondae from the Korean grocery store during regular trips to LA. One of many styrofoam trays piled in a plastic bag, holding hot foods made fresh that day. For the longest time, I refused to try this strangely dark sausage, sticking with the familiar: gimbap (literally "seaweed rice") with threads of carrot, spinach, beef, egg, maybe some pickled daikon. And mandu, the giant variety with white, pillowy buns and meat or vegetable filling. Whenever I asked what was in soondae, my mom would get a mischievous look in her eye, stuff a piece in her mouth, and mumble, "Try it. It's good." To a young kid, that is not encouraging. Those noodles looked like brain bits.
Unlike American or European sausages, soondae has a mild flavor and is much less dense than its Western counterpart. The texture is soft, thanks to cellophane noodles and barley. You eat the sausage fresh and straight, dipped in the salt that usually accompanies it.