At the Korean women-only Olympus Spa, everyone is naked. Naked and taking turns soaking in pools ranging from boiling to frigid, cleansing themselves with strategically placed buckets of mugwort tea, and literally being rubbed like pieces of meat by no-nonsense, swimsuit-clad Korean masseuses. It's all enough to drive a sane person...to lunch. Around midday, everyone puts on their desk-issued robes, hairnets, and slippers and pads down to the utilitarian cafeteria for a restorative bowl of silky tofu soup, bi bim bap, or other Korean specialties. As dining experiences go, this one's more surreal than most (Isn't it kind of cult-like that we're all in these robes and shower caps? What am I supposed to do with these mystery bowls of pickled vegetables? Was I really just naked with all these people?). But any anxiety is dispelled when the earthenware bowl of soup is placed in front of you, bubbling like a cauldron of primordial ooze. It's just the ticket: a study in comforting, smooth textures, with just enough spice to clear your head. It certainly puts the egg-white omelets of so-called spa cuisine to shame.—Anna Roth
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