Gurgle. My stomach groaned as I pushed through the stagnant swarm of people. Hungry travelers filled the restaurants inside Incheon International Airport, with more crowding the fourth floor in hopes of getting lunch before their flight. Even the vending machine had a wait – perhaps to be expected considering the constant activity in the thriving city of Seoul. With everywhere packed, I settled on a place called Myungga's Garden. My stomach growled again in protest of the dozen others I stood behind. And as I inched closer, it continued in anticipation. Step. Gurgle. Step. Gurgle. Step, and – finally! There was only one person ahead of me now. The mix of ginger and garlic wafted through the air, and I was salivating at the thought of being next. The hostess returned from circling the mere living-room-sized eatery, muttering something in Korean to the woman before me. Looking back at me, she gave a sheepish grin then nodded in response to whatever the question was. Then the hostess turned to face me. “You two can sit together, yes?” She asked. I could feel the introvert in me panicking. As a solo traveler, I’ve come to relish the comfort of spending time, especially meals, alone. The thought of dining with a complete stranger sounded daunting, and my limited knowledge of the Korean language only made the thought more intimidating. “Uh…” I stuttered before my stomach interrupted with a loud grumble, as if deciding for me. The hostess pointed towards the only free two-person table nestled in the middle of the restaurant. A waiter arrived within seconds, carefully centering the table with a full pitcher of water and two cups he had balanced on one of three trays. The woman asked about something on the menu, and the waiter returned to the kitchen, leaving us in silence. Too scared of my own mispronunciation to engage in conversation, I just sat stiffly in my seat. She appeared to be in her late 40s, though it was hard to tell. With a crease-free complexion, the only sign of aging was the few gray hair sprouting throughout her otherwise jet-black locks loosely hanging in a single braid. Her porcelain complexion radiated the grace of someone who’s lived without the constant weight of worry. The waiter returned with a plate of bulgogi beef lettuce boats drizzled in a thick brown sauce and organized in a star formation. The savory smell made my stomach grumble, somehow louder than before. She laughed, generously motioning a hand towards the plate. Normally, I would’ve timidly declined – but once again, my hunger silenced my shyness. Our waiter returned, pulling a pen and notepad from his apron’s front pocket. I had been so unnecessarily nervous about the whole dining-with-a-stranger situation that I forgot about the menu. Flipping to the middle, I pointed at the first thing I saw. Bibimbap – a dish with meat, various vegetables and a fried egg on top. I had no idea what bibimbap was beyond the picture, but it looked good. And at this point, I think I’d be happy with anything edible set in front of me. The woman grinned while holding up two fingers to ask for the same. The waiter scribbled our orders before pivoting back towards the kitchen. No more than 15 minutes later, he returned balancing two basketball-sized bowls of bibimbap. Strips of seared steak, sautéed shiitake mushrooms, a tangle of bean sprouts, thinly sliced carrots and zucchini covered a layer of steamed rice. Crowned with a sunny-side fried egg and sprinkled with toasted sesame seeds, the sight alone was enough to make my mouth water. The woman handed me a set of silver chopsticks. Forgoing the comfortable choice, I traded my familiar fork for her offer. “Bon appétit,” she said, raising her glass for a toast. With chopsticks in one hand and cup in the other, I lifted mine to meet hers. “Bon appétit!” We finished our meal in silent serenity – the kind I mistook as coming only from solitude, up until now. Before leaving, I wished her a safe flight in Korean (or at least the best I could with Google Translate’s guidance). She smiled and bowed, bidding me a farewell in English.