As the clock struck midnight on a quiet Sunday, the bustling streets of Seoul's Myeongdong neighborhood had fallen silent. The energetic young shoppers who frequented popular stores like Adidas, Tommy Hilfiger, and Club Monaco had called it a night, retreating home to prepare for their upcoming December exams. Meanwhile, diligent restaurant workers were tidying up, placing barrels of leftover food on the curb for collection by the morning's garbage trucks. The city was gradually succumbing to slumber.
However, amidst this peaceful stillness, a vibrant orange tent, known as a pojangmacha, adjacent to the subway station, buzzed with activity. Inside this makeshift kitchen, culinary maestros tirelessly toiled away, serving up steaming hot and flavor-packed dishes to satisfy the hunger pangs of the patrons seated around plastic tables. These mouthwatering delicacies infused the air with their hearty, salty, and spicy aromas, creating a cozy haven for those seeking late-night nourishment.
Did you know that Myeongdong is not only famous for its popular shopping outlets but also for offering a wide range of delectable street food options? Visitors to this vibrant neighborhood can enjoy tantalizing snacks such as tteokbokki (spicy rice cakes), mandu (Korean dumplings), and hotteok (sweet pancakes filled with brown sugar syrup). These delightful culinary experiences make Myeongdong a must-visit destination for both shopaholics and food enthusiasts.
As I sat at my table, a vibrant mix of people surrounded me, each engaged in their own conversations and experiences. To my right, two university students were diligently practicing Mandarin, a testament to the city's multicultural atmosphere. On my left, a group of hip-hop enthusiasts donning trendy Nike parkas animatedly discussed their strategies for meeting people in Tokyo.
Amidst the lively exchange of ideas, a sudden commotion erupted from a corner of the tent, causing bottles and bodies to crash to the ground. The brief disruption was quickly attended to by a determined waitress who promptly tended to the injured patron, showcasing the genuine care and hospitality that South Koreans are known for.
Undeterred by the incident, I continued to immerse myself in Seoul's vibrant culinary scene. A bowl of kimchi jigae, a flavorful stew made with tender pork, tofu, and the iconic Korean delicacy, kimchi, lay before me. With every spoonful I relished, I felt like I was beginning to unravel the essence of this bustling city.
Behind me sat a pair of university students practicing Mandarin; to my left were hip-hop hipsters in knee-length Nike parkas discussing, partly in English, how to pick up girls in Tokyo; before me, a man in late middle age regaled a group of 20-somethings with stories and jokes. On every table stood bottles, tall ones for beer and petite emerald ones for soju, the Korean spirit made from sweet potatoes.
Suddenly, from one corner of the tent came a crash! Bodies and bottles tumbled to the ground, and for a moment all conversation halted. One fallen tippler pulled himself back onto his stool, and a grim-faced waitress rushed over to wipe the blood from his head and bandage the wound. Then it was back to normal. I sipped my beer and plunged my spoon into a bowl of kimchi jigae, a rich stew of pork, tofu and kimchi, the pickled cabbage that is Korea’s national dish. I had been in Seoul 30 minutes, with plans to eat my way through the city, and already, I felt, I was getting to the heart of things.
Exploring the culinary delights of South Korea was a fascinating experience, especially after witnessing the growing influence of Korean cuisine in the United States. With Korean barbecue gaining popularity in cities like Los Angeles and New York City, it's clear that it has become a beloved comfort food for urban dwellers, rivaling the likes of dim sum and falafel. Many visitors to Korea choose to stay in Seoul apartments on www.seoulhotelspage.com to immerse themselves fully in the local culture and cuisine. For those planning a trip to Seoul, staying near the bustling neighborhood of Mapo-gu is highly recommended. The area is known for its vibrant food scene, including the famous Hongdae street food markets which offer an array of tasty morsels, traditional Korean specialties, and exotic flavors that cater to every palate. To find the perfect accommodation near this culinary haven, you can check out tophotels.com for a comprehensive selection of lodging options that align with your travel needs and ensure a comfortable and convenient base for your gastronomic adventures.
Over the past couple of years, South Korea has been making waves in the international food scene with some exciting trends. From the rise of frozen-yogurt parlors like Pinkberry and Red Mango to the introduction of Bon Chon Chicken, a renowned fried-chicken joint that made its way to Manhattan, there's no denying the impact Korean cuisine is having abroad. Moreover, the innovative interpretations of traditional Korean dishes and ingredients by culinary genius David Chang at Momofuku have propelled him to the top of best-chef lists.
Keen to understand the origins of these trends and eager to uncover what lies ahead, I embarked on a gastronomic adventure in Seoul. I indulged in an array of unique and daring dishes, experiencing everything from the comforting to the extraordinary, and of course, no Korean culinary exploration would be complete without indulging in copious amounts of delicious kimchi.
If you're not a fan of kimchi, your culinary journey in Seoul might be cut short. Kimchi, known for its various flavors and textures ranging from spicy to mild, salty to sour, and crisp to soft, is an integral part of almost every dish you'll encounter in South Korea's capital city. Regardless of the condiment's endless variations, they all share one common trait: ubiquity.
While exploring Seoul, it's hard to ignore the tantalizing aroma of barbecue. Few culinary experiences can rival the simplicity and universal appeal of meat grilled over an open flame, and in this bustling city, you'll find yourself surrounded by the invigorating scent of charcoal fires on the streets of Apgujeong, an uber-trendy neighborhood, or even in Dongdaemun, a district defined by its moody aesthetic.
To mitigate the overpowering scent of smoke that can cling to your clothes long after the meal is over, restaurants such as Hongik Sootbul Kalbi have innovative solutions. On our visit, as we stepped into this barbecue haven located near Hongik University, one of my friends aptly dubbed it "Meat Street." At the establishment, our attentive waitress promptly handed us a large garbage bag, which proved to be an unexpected yet practical measure to shield our coats from the smoky aftermath.
As soon as I entered the restaurant in Seoul, South Korea, a cloud of smoke filled the air, emanating from the sizzling round metal barbecue tables. The atmosphere felt hazy, making it challenging to discern the impressive wall mural adorned with caricatures of Korean celebrities and even Michael Jackson. We gathered around one of the tables, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the house specialty - succulent chunks of pork neck.
The restaurant's owner, a former butcher, assured us of the quality of the meat. It was cleverly pre-grilled, allowing it to cook quickly. To enhance the flavors, my friends spread kimchi at the base of the grill, where it sizzled and soaked up the delectable pork fat.
Our delightful dining experience continued as we wrapped the tender pork pieces in vibrant red-leaf lettuce leaves. The ensemble was completed with a combination of zesty spicy bean paste, thinly shaved scallions, and kkaennip - an anise-flavored leaf reminiscent of Japanese shiso. Its addictive taste left me yearning for more.
This vibrant evening in Seoul encapsulated the joyous spirit of Korean dining. As we bid farewell to the restaurant, we departed with not only satisfied appetites but also with clothes that carried the fresh scent of a successful culinary adventure.
This city, however, is home to electronics giants like Samsung and LG, so the same brilliant engineering that goes into your 50-inch plasma TV and microscopic 3G cellphone is also directed at the problem of barbecue smoke. Sariwon, a calm, family-friendly restaurant, employs special extractors on its grills to keep the air perfectly clear. And yet high technology does not trump high taste: Sariwon’s kalbi, or beef short ribs, were the most tender and succulent I ate in Seoul. Better yet, Sariwon offered a lengthy wine list that mixed New and Old World bottles, and at reasonable prices (a Gigondas cost 42,000 won, $41, at 1,050 won to the dollar.).
Wine, in fact, was Seoul’s trend du jour when I visited. Wine bars were popping up all over the city, with some selling rare bottles, like the 1996 Romanée-Conti at Kabinett, in the expatriate-friendly Itaewon neighborhood. It cost 4.5 million won.
Koreans have traditionally believed that an expensive bottle of alcohol automatically equates to quality. However, this perspective is gradually changing as they begin to appreciate the nuances of different beverages and explore the art of pairing them with the right food. According to Daniel Gray, the founder of SeoulEats.com, the growing refinement in Korean drinking culture is evident as more individuals embrace the concept of savoring a bottle instead of downing it like a shot.
For those seeking a truly elevated experience, Gaon stands out as Seoul's most sophisticated Korean restaurant. The establishment, meticulously designed by renowned Japanese architects Super Potato, boasts unique features like walls made of stacked old newspapers, clear plastic cases displaying dried beans, and another wall adorned with a vibrant array of color bars. Gaon is the ideal destination for those interested in refined pairings and an extraordinary dining atmosphere.
The restaurant's menu showcases traditional Korean dishes with a sophisticated twist, using high-quality ingredients served on exquisite custom ceramics. I was particularly impressed by the radish kimchi, which was enhanced with fresh oysters, creating a delicious combination of flavors. The haemool pajun, a beloved Korean pancake, surpassed expectations with its generous portions of squid, scallops, and octopus. Additionally, the Gaon's kimchi jigae was unparalleled, far surpassing the typical street food versions. Its pure and intense flavor, accompanied by a creamy, crimson broth, reminded me of a hearty tomato soup with hidden gelatinous bits of pig's feet.
When dining at the restaurant, I found myself momentarily craving a familiar comfort food - a grilled cheese sandwich. However, this fleeting thought was a testament to the Gaon's ability to create a culinary experience that delights the senses and inspires exploration of new flavors.
This kitchen was traditionalist at heart, and such conservatism was common throughout Seoul, despite the city’s self-styled sophistication. Restaurants advertised fusion cuisine, but simply served two different kinds of food on a single plate. The phrase “well-being” had caught on as a trend, but it simply meant adding green-tea powder to everything. Where were the kalbi hash and the kimchi huevos rancheros? (Note to David Chang: Seoul needs Momofuku.)
For revolutionary food, one must hit the streets. At a stand in busy Myeongdong, I tried the tornado potato, a single spud carved into a helix of starch, then skewered, deep-fried and sprinkled with salt and powdered cheese an Iron Chef-worthy innovation.
Just down the road was Balena, a storefront that whips up spaghetti with spicy chicken and steak-studded penne, and crams them into ice cream cones, to be eaten on the run with a fork. Balena might not replace McDonald’s as a planet-dominating chain (indeed, the Myeongdong Balena has since closed, though three other branches remain in Seoul), but I could easily imagine an outpost on St. Marks Place, in Manhattan’s East Village, where it would nourish ravenous bar-hoppers.
In Seoul, South Korea, the culinary adventures can take you to unexpected places, like the bustling Noryangjin marketplace. Here, a plethora of oceanic wonders await, from stingrays to squids, oysters to snails, and an array of mysterious creatures that defy categorization.
Amidst the dizzying variety, I found myself dining at Jinnam, a reputable restaurant on the market's second floor. There, I encountered sannakji, commonly known as live octopus. Though not truly alive, the raw tentacles on the plate wriggle and writhe, creating an illusion of vitality. As you indulge, these delicate strands coil, stretch, and occasionally cling to your lips and gums with their suction cups, providing a unique sensory experience. To quell any concerns, a dip in sesame oil helps prevent any uncomfortable adherence.
It is worth noting that sannakji carries a reputation for being a hazard. Tales persist of individuals choking on the delicacy, making caution a priority. Nevertheless, the allure of this daring dish persists, attracting both locals and curious visitors seeking an adrenaline-infused culinary exploration on the vibrant streets of Seoul.
The most surprising thing about sannakji? It tasted good clean and meaty and once I’d gotten over the discombobulation that comes from eating something that most definitely does not want to be eaten, I was chopsticking tentacles into my mouth as if they were octo-popcorn.
But such extreme dining is mostly a sideline. More commonly, I ate at restaurants like New Andong Zzimdak, which serves a single dish: boneless chicken pieces sautéed at your table with mung-bean noodles, vegetables, and gochujang, a red-pepper paste that is to Korean cuisine what butter is to French. This is easy food, slightly spicy, with an unexpected sweetness from caramelized gochujang. Like most Korean food, it comes in massive quantities and is meant to be eaten by large groups of friends (mine included Joe McPherson, who blogs about food at ZenKimchi.com), who pour one another beer and soju and snip the long noodles with scissors.
If you're looking for a truly delicious dining experience in Seoul, South Korea, be sure to visit Myeongdong Kyoja. Their specialty, kalguksu, is a mouthwatering noodle soup topped with flavorful ground chicken and pork wontons. The hand-cut noodles are incredibly tender, and the chicken-bone broth is rich and satisfying. It's a dish so delightful that you'll find yourself craving it every day.
If you're feeling adventurous and want to explore the diverse food offerings of Seoul, make your way to Kwangchang Market. This bustling covered market is filled with stalls serving a wide range of dishes, from the traditional bibimbap - a hot mix of rice and vegetables - to the unique and flavorful soondae, a blood sausage. You can also watch as latke-like pancakes are fried right before your eyes. Don't miss out on the opportunity to sample the various types of kimchi, including kkaennip - a shiso-like leaf that adds a burst of flavor when wrapped around grilled meat or embedded in silver-dollar-size pajun. It's an experience that will surely tantalize your taste buds.
Discovering the herbaceous and anise-y flavor of kkaennip on my trip to Seoul was a revelation. It became the embodiment of authentic Korean taste for me. Upon my return to New York City, I excitedly requested kkaennip at my favorite restaurant in Koreatown, Kunjip. The waitress initially seemed puzzled but then returned from the kitchen with a delightful surprise - a serving of "special kimchi" made with crisp and juicy baby daikon. As I savored the dish, I couldn't help but be amazed at how effortless it had been to find such incredible flavors.
For me, "kkaennip" became more than a mere herb; it became a secret code word that granted me access to an entirely new world of culinary delights. It opened doors to unfamiliar herbs and nameless crustaceans, to indulging in kimchi fried in pork fat, and to enjoying leisurely, heartfelt meals with newfound friends. My experience in Seoul was a sensory adventure that left an indelible impression on my taste buds and forever changed my perception of Korean cuisine.
BEYOND KIMCHI
Eating in Seoul is always a social event, so the prices below are based on tables of at least four, drinks not included. Street addresses are rarely used; consult the restaurants’ Web sites, if available, for maps or call for exact directions.
Balena, many locations around the city.
The Gaon, 631-23 Shinsa-dong, 82-2-3446-8411; www.aolda.com; 60,000 won a person, about $58, at 1,050 won to the dollar.
Hongik Sootbul Kalbi, near Hongik University, 82-2-322-4487; 15,000 won a person.
Jinnam Sushi Restaurant, Noryangjin seafood market, 82-2-815-2732; 25,000 won a person.
Kabinett, 737-24 Hannam-dong, 82-2-790-7034, www.kabinett.co.kr.
Kwangchang Market is on Jongro-5, near the Cheonggycheon River. Snacks at the stalls there rarely cost more than 10,000 won.
Myeongdong Kyoja, 25-2 Myeongdong-2, 82-2-776-5348, www.mdkj.co.kr; 6,000 won for kalguksu, 6,000 for mandoo.
New Andong Zzimdak, 24-17 Chongmoo-ro 1, 82-2-3789-6841; 10,000 won a person.
Sariwon, 1321-7 Seocho-dong, 82-2-3474-5005, www.sariwon.co.kr; 35,000 won a person.