Developing topics on Korean food, I recently sent out e-mails to local organizations and people I thought could help me with their insights. Imagine my surprise when Sunnie at the Olympus Spa in Lakewood returned my message inviting me to meet with her chef, Hyekgoung Simpkins. The Olympus spa is a naked spa — no men allowed — absolutely top secret dining.



I never made it past reception.

The raw skin movement

Don’t think nudists, think traditional Asian health when imagining (or fantasying) about a place where Korean women in matching shirts and shorts scrub women’s naked bodies.



Olympus Spa borrows on the Korean tradition of “ttaemiri” or scrub culture — the act of scouring the body raw to feel absolutely clean and smooth.



Known among Westerners as the “naked spa,” the Olympus on South Tacoma Way (with another location in Lynnwood) caters to both Asian and non-Asian women. I first heard of the place from my mom. My then sister-in-law gave my mom a day at the spa as a birthday gift. My mom envisioned Gene Juarez, but when she soon stood inside the Olympus abashedly staring at her daughter-in-law’s birthday suit, she felt glad Gene Juarez or any other man remained persona non-grata. After a little while, my mom relaxed — she enjoyed the scrub — she felt her inhibitions dissolve. Then, she glanced sideways to the scrub table next to hers and gasped; sprawled out before her was someone she knew. Calling a spade a spade, my mom admitted, “I felt a little uncomfortable lying naked next to a bridge club friend.”



Others find the naked experience enlightening. In a Seattle Times story on the spa, a women, only introduced as Kamie, made this observation: “I was actually kind of a little bit worried because you’re nude there. But then I remember being really interested in how different everyone’s bodies are ... I began to see the beauty in every shape. The heavy women looked really beautiful because their folds are really nice. I think in the nude, people look better. You wouldn’t think so, but! It’s very natural.”



If a guy had said that …

What about the food?

Men read Playboy for the articles, and women naked spa for the food — or so goes the urban myth. The Olympus Spa features a restaurant, but only women may dine there — using the spa or not.



I met with Chef Hyekgoung Simpkins on wooden chairs with ladybug prints in the Spa’s main lobby. I asked about going inside to see the restaurant but she only smiled as if not understanding my question.



She did, however, bring out a tray of that day’s banchan — the little bowls of side dishes that typically accompany a Korean meal. Simpkins’ black beans tasted divine. Woody, moist yet with a snap, these seven beauties made me forget I sat mere feet away from a nest of naked women. Her radish, kimchee and bean sprouts mesmerized as well. Simpkins manages to keep her flavors simple, yet by hand selecting her ingredients each morning from Pal Do Market down the street, she creates banchans that snap, crackle and pop with freshness.



But there must be more up Simpkins’ sleeves. So, I did what any reporter would do, I sent my wife to search the place. And, she did what any wife would do — made me buy her a spa package before she agreed to eat and tell.

The report

Admittedly, my wife rarely lists Korean at the top of cuisine she enjoys — mostly due to the heavy, hot spices. Jun Johnson, operations manager at Olympus Spa, says she recommends to newbies to start with Korean barbecue and clear noodle soup.



“They are less spicy and seem more familiar to Americans,” says Johnson, who came from Korea to the area when she was 22 to learn English and ended up marrying her tutor.



I passed the advice to my wife.



She returned home raving about Simpkins’ vegetables. She enjoyed the Korean beef, but loved the bean sprouts and stir-fried veggies.



“They were perfectly prepared — tender but firm — crisp and fresh,” my wife explained.

My wife also enjoyed eating in her bathrobe and slippers, wishing more restaurants would embrace the practice.



The spa restaurant serves as a pit stop between the scrubbing, purifying, steaming and soaking — a time to quietly reflect. My wife says the restaurant sits near the heated tile floors — the room accommodates seven tables and folks order at the counter.



“It’s basically plain inside the restaurant — nothing fancy,” my wife added.



Then she went on for a few more minutes about the vegetables.



I’m glad the Olympus exists, even though I am barred from eating there. Which, in all honesty, is probably a good thing. After all, no one should have to glance sideways and see a team of ladies scrubbing my naked ass — no matter how good the food tastes.



[Olympus Spa, 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. Monday-Thursday, 9 a.m. to midnight Friday-Saturday, 8615 S. Tacoma Way, Lakewood, 253.588.3355]