Chicken and beer have become serious institutions in South Korea. Korean style fried chicken started showing up around 1970, when cooking oil became more affordable. In the 1980s and 1990s, chicken “hofs” that served deep fried chicken and beer popped up everywhere. This was likely due to early forced retirement for mid-level managers in Korea Inc.’s chaebol conglomerates. Chicken hofs were sold as turnkey business solutions. Since so many opened on every corner, Koreans started going to them because they were there. These days, there are more chicken franchise locations in Korea than there are McDonald’s in the entire world.
The chicken hof has gone through phases. I’m a personal fan of the 1990s style. Small free range birds with papery breading and strong Asian aromatic flavors. Or as one chef I shared chicken with said, smelled like a cinnamon doughnut. The more modern style is closer to American fried chicken, dipped in a flour breading with all the nooks and crannies. There are a few franchises I like from this vein as well.
To sauce or not to sauce?
People debate whether Korean fried chicken needs sauce. I like to just get plain fried with some Yangnyeom Sauce on the side. “Yangnyeom” just means “seasoned” or “flavored.” In the Korean chicken realm it’s a sweet, garlicky, sticky, slightly spicy sauce.
Other popular flavors are soy sauce, buldalk “fire chicken,” and my other favorite, garlic chicken. This was invented in 1997 in the blue collar neighborhood near Daerim Station. Chopped garlic is stewed all day. After frying the chicken it’s baptized in this garlic mixture. Pure heaven!
How to know if it’s good
My rule of thumb is this. To tell a good chicken place, look at the people inside. If it’s full of beautiful young women taking selfies, likely isn’t good chicken. If it’s full of middle-aged men who look like life has kicked them in the teeth–GREAT CHICKEN!
Here are some consistently good chicken franchises and spots. Add your favorites in the comments.
How to use this list
Chicken places come and go quickly. Most of the places on this list are franchises. To find a location near you, copy the Korean name and paste it into Google Maps, Naver Map, or Kakao Map.
The Authentic Chicken & Beer Pub Crawl
Don’t take the risk. Join us for a fun immersive romp for loads of chicken and lots of beer. Click to check the dates and prices.
This classic style chicken has been around since 1986. They are brined for 24 hours before being coated in a spicy powder, breaded, and fried. You can get their mild version. You can also get their spicy version with spicy sauce. It’s a good satisfying challenge.
Everyone knows my love for Two-Two. It’s one of the oldest franchises and the first taste I had of Korean fried chicken. The birds they use are bony, but that means they aren’t factory raised. They actually have flavor. The crust is thin, delicate, and has that Chinese five spice and cinnamon scent that I always associate with Korean chicken hofs. This chicken screams for beer.
This is the one most Americans think of when talking about Korean fried chicken. The thing is, Kyochon is the only franchise I know of that does it this way–batter dipped rather than rolled in flour or starch. The batter is garlicky with a slight sweetness. The crust shatters and stays crispy a long time. If you order it “yangnyeom” style, they meticulously paint the sauce on each piece individually. Caution–the breading really seals the contents inside. Expect a hot geyser of chicken juice to burst out in your first bite.
Pronounced Bee-bee-kyoo. It’s the king of chicken franchises in Korea. They follow the American style of frying, but their flavor is unique. Claiming to fry their chicken in olive oil, they obviously feel like they have to chase KFC. They boast over 20 herbs and spices. BBQ’s flavor is unique and hasn’t been copied. You can smell a BBQ a block away.
They specialize in classic style, but they also make a mean pa dalk, boneless fried chicken thighs served in a sweetish peanut sauce and shredded leeks. The other half of their name refers to golbaengi, sea snails. For some reason they think that chilled spicy sea snail noodle salad goes well with fried chicken.
It sorta does, TBH. Reminds me of trips to the beach in my earlier times in Korea.
It’s been going through a re-branding to appeal to a younger crowd (note the two logos).
I have been so excited about this. It’s been my new favorite, and I can’t get enough of it.
Chickens are spit roasted over wood. Then they’re served on a sizzling platter of crispy rice. Usually it’s served with this sweet hot mustard and radish stem kimchi. Every time I take anyone to one of these places, the chicken is gone like velociraptors entered the building.
This style of chicken is called nureungji tongdalk 누릉지통닭, literally “scorched rice fried chicken.” It comes from Gangwon Province and has been growing in the Seoul Metro area. Gyerimwon is but one chain. Most all the places that serve this that I’ve been to have been outstanding. You’ll know it by the rotisserie chickens in the window, the ream of oak logs out front, and this heavenly smoked chicken smell.
Always start off with the original nureungji tongdalk. Then play with other variations, usually smothered in cheese, curry, or some other sauce. This will be your new favorite chicken and beer pairing.
Hanchoo 한추
Style: Batter
Not really a franchise. It’s a popular spot in Gangnam. It’s popular for being popular, but it has its fans. They serve fried chili peppers with their chicken, which is their schtick. I’m putting it here because people I respect like it. I personally had bad ju-ju with the owners when we were arranging a TV show to shoot there. One of them said they didn’t want more foreigners in their restaurant. I know where I’m not welcome.
Going into oven chicken territory, Goobne (GOOB-nay) has been getting popular lately. And it’s good. Even though Korea’s gone through many “well-being” food fads, for some reason chicken hasn’t registered. A Korean co-worker of a friend of mine said that since the fried chicken she was eating was Korean, it was healthy.
Goobne has promoted itself as a healthy alternative to fried. All I know lately is that when we order it, it’s stripped to the bone like those Winged Devourers did on “Beastmaster.”
Dishonorable Mentions
Just to shake up the anthill, there are a couple fried chicken chains I’m not too fond of.
The modern style of Korean fried chicken just has no flavor, no soul. It is not much different than bland versions of American style fried chicken. The only thing that makes it Korean is that you can get it tossed in sauce.
Basic rule: avoid chicken places with gimmicks. Miniature tongs, finger condoms, beer served in Pyrex measuring cups.
Saenghwal Maekju appears as one of the newer chains capitalizing on the popularity of craft beer. Don’t expect much from the craft beer itself. It’s mediocre. The chicken is even worse. The other menu items–worser worser worser!
Seriously. Gelato on stale tortilla chips. I ordered this thinking, “If they have it on the menu, maybe they’re on to something. You know, like dipping salty fries into a Wendy’s Frosty.”
Nnnnope. It’s as if a five-year-old took over as menu consultant.
Most people think they’ve eaten galbi because they sat at a grill, flipped something shiny, wrapped it in lettuce, and left smelling like smoke. That assumption is common, understandable, and usually wrong.
Seoul has no shortage of BBQ restaurants that look convincing. Wood-paneled walls. Stainless exhaust pipes. A server with scissors moving quickly from table to table. The performance is familiar. The result is often forgettable.
What keeps mediocre galbi alive isn’t malice. It’s repetition. Once enough people accept the version in front of them, the original quietly steps aside.
Table of Contents
What Galbi Used to Mean
Galbi 갈비 means ribs. Not ribs as a flavor category, but ribs as structure.
Older Koreans still talk about wang-galbi without irony. Large ribs. Real bones. Meat that varies in thickness and shape because animals are not symmetrical. It bends on the grill. It resists the scissors once before giving way.
The bone is not decorative. It changes how heat travels. It slows the cook. It keeps the meat from drying out before the sugars in the marinade caramelize. You notice it most in the bite closest to the bone, where the flavor deepens instead of sweetening.
That style of galbi still exists, but it no longer dominates.
When Substitutes Become the Standard
At some point, practicality crept in.
Smaller cuts were easier to portion. Uniform shapes were easier to price. A clean bone added familiarity. Food-grade binding agents made it possible to attach one to the other.
Nothing about this is illegal. Nothing about it announces itself as wrong. Once marinated, grilled, and cut tableside, most diners never question it.
The scissors clatter. The smoke rises. The table fills. The difference disappears unless you’ve felt it before.
Cheap Galbi, Not as a Moral Problem
A friend of mine, Injoo, has spent years chasing cheap BBQ with a kind of cheerful persistence. Three-thousand-won pork belly. Five-thousand-won galbi. He treats new price points like rumors worth investigating.
Most of the time, the results are predictable.
One night, after a long day wrangling kids at a Halloween carnival, he suggested another bargain galbi place. I hesitated. Cheap galbi often means shortcuts, not because the owner is dishonest, but because something has to give.
This place held.
The grill came out empty. Then the charcoal arrived.
The Fire Chief Still Tells You Things
In older galbi houses, someone still handles the fire.
Charcoal comes fast and hot, dropped into the pit with the practiced indifference of repetition. Ash lifts into the air. Heat rolls across the table edge and into your sleeves. It smells sharp, unfiltered, and temporary.
Gas grills are tidy. Charcoal announces itself. You notice it later, on your jacket, when you think you’ve left dinner behind.
When the Meat Hits the Grill
The sound is dry and immediate. Sugar catches quickly. Soy and garlic darken if you hesitate. Fat drips, flashes, and sends smoke back up into the hood.
The scissors move fast. Metal clicks against metal. Pieces fall where they land.
This is usually the moment when substitutes reveal themselves, not through drama, but through texture. Uniform cuts behave politely. Real galbi pulls unevenly. One section yields. Another holds for a second longer.
You don’t need to know why to feel it.
About Rules, and the Lack of Them
Every few years, someone decides galbi needs etiquette. One lettuce leaf only. Garlic cooked but not raw. Sauce in a specific order.
None of that holds at the table.
Koreans eat galbi according to mood, appetite, and whatever is within reach. Garlic raw or grilled. One leaf or two. Kimchi folded into the wrap because it fits better that way.
There is one rule that does seem to persist. Don’t put your rice spoon into a shared stew. Everything else adjusts.
LA Galbi Has Its Own Story
LA galbi exists because butchers in the United States cut beef differently. The solution was to slice across the bone. Thinner meat. Faster cooking. Easier to handle.
It can be good. It is not a replacement for wang-galbi. It solves a different problem.
When a restaurant offers only this cut and presents it as tradition, it’s usually a sign of what they value most. Speed. Predictability. Familiarity.
Where Galbi Still Feels Like It Used To
You tend to find it in places that are slightly inconvenient.
Restaurants with uneven menus. Grills scarred from decades of use. Ventilation that rattles louder than the music. Tables filled with people who don’t photograph their food because they’ve eaten it before.
These places don’t announce themselves. They don’t need to.
You don’t stumble into them the way you once could. You notice them because something about the meal feels slower, heavier, more complete.
A Quiet Ending
None of this means you were fooled. It means the city changed around a dish that once had a narrower definition.
Galbi didn’t disappear. It loosened. It adapted. It learned to behave.
If you’ve eaten enough of it, eventually you notice when something feels different. Not worse exactly. Just smoother, easier, and oddly forgettable.
That recognition tends to arrive mid-meal, when the smoke hangs a little longer and the bone finally makes sense again.
This post was originally published on Oct. 29, 2005. Updated in 2026.
Move over Valentine’s Day; there’s a new Hallmark holiday in town—only instead of candy hearts, we get sizzling strips of pork belly. March 3rd is Samgyeopsal Day in South Korea, and yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like: an entire day dedicated to grilling fatty pork in all its glistening glory. If you’re surprised this is a thing, trust me—it’s as real as Korea’s obsession with four seasons once was.
The Pork-Backed Origin Story
Samgyeopsal Day didn’t spontaneously manifest from the communal soul of Korean culinary tradition. Instead, it was created back in 2003 by the Paju Yeoncheon Livestock Corporation—essentially the pig industry’s way of shouting, “Hey, we exist, please buy more pork!”
Why March 3rd? “Samgyeopsal” literally means “three-layered meat,” so the date 3/3 is a neat pun. Marketing genius, right?
Why do Koreans love it? Possibly because there’s a built-in excuse to eat more pork—and who doesn’t like a reason to binge on BBQ?
As cynical as that might sound, the holiday worked. It boosted domestic pork sales, propped up farmers, and before you knew it, it became an actual, if unofficial, tradition. Now we’re all telling our friends, “Happy Samgyeopsal Day!” like it’s the Year of the Pig or something.
From Pariah Meat to National Staple
Believe it or not, pork wasn’t always the superstar in Korean dining. Beef was traditionally held in higher esteem, but supply issues in the 1980s nudged the government to push pork onto the dinner table. Add in some corporate powerhouses like Samsung and Lotte getting into meat processing, plus scientific hog-raising methods (think less barnyard funk, more succulent slabs), and you’ve got the recipe for a “pork renaissance.” By the ’90s, samgyeopsal was the new normal for big nights out.
Why Does This Holiday Even Matter?
Economic Kudos: Pig farmers thrive on this annual sales boost. If Hallmark can bankroll Mother’s Day, pig farmers can do the same for Samgyeopsal.
Food Soul: Despite its marketing-engineered roots, the communal act of sharing grilled pork belly has genuine warmth. Like a good kimchi jjigae, it’s become a comfort food staple that feels authentically Korean—even if it started as a PR campaign.
How Koreans Celebrate Samgyeopsal Day
SAMSUNG CSC
Restaurant Promotions Expect your social media to blow up with “Samgyeopsal Day 50% OFF!” ads. If you’re a carnivorous bargain-hunter, this is your Christmas in March.
Home BBQ Feasts Got a portable grill and a decent ventilation system? Invite some friends, grab soju, and fill your house with the sweet smell of sizzling pork belly (just hope your neighbors don’t mind).
DIY Lettuce Wrap Stations A key part of samgyeopsal’s charm is how interactive it is: get your ssamjang, garlic slices, kimchi, and fresh lettuce (or perilla leaves), then wrap ‘em up. It’s build-your-own taco, Korean-style.
Creative Takes Feeling fancy? Try gochujang marinades or a drizzle of sesame oil, salt, and pepper. The combos are endless, and so is the potential for Instagram food porn—just keep it real, yeah?
Themed Sides and Culture There’s more to a proper feast than pork. Japchae, kimchi, or even a little cucumber banchan bring texture, color, and that comforting sour-spicy contrast Koreans can’t live without. Throw on some K-pop, or do a mini history lesson about why we’re doing this in the first place—beyond just “3/3.”
Craving a Real Samgyeopsal Party? Book The Ultimate Korean BBQ Experience
Fun Ways to Celebrate at Home
Host a Korean Drinking Game Night: You’ve got the soju, you’ve got the pork. Add a few rounds of “Baskin Robbins 31” or “Titanic” (the soju-floating-in-beer-cup game), and watch the night unfold.
Fusion Feast: Feeling adventurous? Wrap your grilled pork in tortillas for a “K-Mex” twist, or stuff it into kimbap for a bizarre but surprisingly tasty roll.
Solo Samgyeopsal: Who says you need company? Fire up your grill pan, binge some K-dramas, and enjoy the privacy of not having to share.
Is Samgyeopsal Day Overhyped?
Of course it is. But so is Black Friday. We’re talking about a day conceived as a marketing gimmick that morphed into a borderline national celebration. Yet, here we are, excitedly marking it on the calendar. In a sense, that’s Korea’s magic: turning a PR stunt into something that actually feels meaningful by weaving it into the social fabric—food, friends, and family.
Final Thoughts
If you think Samgyeopsal Day is just another corporate-manufactured holiday, well, you’re not wrong. But it’s also a delicious excuse to gather around the grill and enjoy the smoky scent that’s as comforting to Koreans as fireworks on the Fourth of July are to Americans. Sometimes, that’s all the reason we need.
So, on March 3rd, do what Koreans do: celebrate a silly date that turned into a cherished tradition—and partake in that warm, interactive fun of sharing grilled pork belly with good company. Just be sure to crack a joke about how you’re doing your patriotic duty to support local farmers by chowing down on one more slice. Ssamjang optional—but highly recommended.
Happy Samgyeopsal Day, Everyone!
Put on your stretchy pants, gather your favorite humans, and toast to the “three-layered meat” that’s wrapped this country’s heart in smoky, savory goodness for decades. Marketing ploy or not, it’s time to feast. Enjoy!
Korean cuisine is often praised for being healthy, balanced, and nutrient-rich, making it a great choice for those looking to lose weight. While not every Korean dish is diet-friendly (sorry, samgyeopsal and tteokbokki), many traditional Korean foods are naturally low in calories, high in fiber, and packed with essential nutrients.
South Koreans consistently rank among the thinnest populations in the modern world, and their dietary habits play a significant role. If you’re looking to shed some pounds while still enjoying flavorful meals, here are three Korean weight loss foods that are both delicious and satisfying.
Tofu steak has been a popular trend in the Korean diet food world for years. Unlike simply grilling a block of tofu, this dish takes inspiration from Korean-style hamburger steak (Donggeurang Ddaeng, 동그랑땡) but substitutes beef with tofu for a leaner, high-protein alternative.
Why It’s a Great Korean Weight Loss Food:
✔ Low in calories, high in protein – Helps with muscle maintenance and keeps you full. ✔ Rich in umami – Shiitake mushrooms (Pyogo mushrooms, 표고버섯) add a meaty, savory depth. ✔ Healthier cooking methods – Use olive oil or grapeseed oil instead of deep-frying.
How to Eat It: Pair it with a side of steamed vegetables or a light Korean dipping sauce for a satisfying, low-calorie meal.
[button link=”https://zenkimchi.com/recipes/korean-food-recipes/recipe-korean-tofu-steak/” type=”big” color=”orange”] GET THE RECIPE[/button]
Did you know that Korea is one of the few cultures that eat acorns? Acorns naturally contain bitter tannins, making them difficult to process, but Koreans have mastered the art of turning them into a nutrient-rich, weight-loss-friendly food.
Dotorimuk is a zero-fat, low-calorie Korean diet food that has a unique chewy texture similar to gelatin. It absorbs the flavors of seasonings and can be eaten in many different ways.
Why It’s a Perfect Korean Diet Food:
✔ Almost zero calories – Great for anyone counting calories. ✔ High in fiber – Keeps you full for longer and aids digestion. ✔ Rich in antioxidants – Helps detoxify the body.
How to Eat It:
Chilled Acorn Jelly Soup (묵사발, Muk Sabal) – A refreshing, light dish similar to naengmyeon (Korean cold noodles).
Dotorimuk Salad – Acorn jelly tossed with sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic, and fresh vegetables.
This is one of the best Korean foods for weight loss because it fills you up without adding extra calories.
[button link=”https://zenkimchi.com/recipes/korean-food-recipes/recipe-acorn-jelly-salad-dotorimuk-muchim-%eb%8f%84%ed%86%a0%eb%a6%ac%eb%ac%b5%eb%ac%b4%ec%b9%a8/” type=”big” color=”orange”] GET THE RECIPE[/button]
3. Barley Bibimbap (Boribap, 보리밥) – The Fiber-Rich Rice Alternative
If you love bibimbap but want a healthier, weight-loss-friendly version, boribap (barley rice bibimbap) is the perfect choice. Unlike traditional white rice, boribap is made with a mix of barley and whole grains, making it higher in fiber, protein, and essential nutrients.
In the past, white rice was considered a luxury in Korea, and families would mix barley, beans, and black rice to stretch their rice supply. Today, boribap is making a comeback as a staple in Korean healthy eating.
Why Boribap is an Effective Korean Weight Loss Food:
✔ High in fiber and whole grains – Supports digestion and keeps you full longer. ✔ Low glycemic index – Helps regulate blood sugar and prevent cravings. ✔ Nutrient-dense – Packed with vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants.
How to Eat It:
Mix barley rice with fresh vegetables, sesame oil, and gochujang.
Skip the egg and add extra greens for an ultra-light version.
Pair it with fermented kimchi, which boosts digestion and gut health.
This traditional Korean food for weight loss proves that you don’t need to sacrifice flavor to eat healthy.
I don’t have a recipe for this one because there really isn’t a recipe. You just cook some barley in your rice. Or even better, get a lot of mixed grains and rices. People get all fancy with bibimbap. In a typical Korean household, it’s a means to get rid of leftovers. For me, as long as I can douse it in sesame oil and gochujang, I’m happy.
Final Thoughts: Korean Diet Foods for Weight Loss
If you’re looking for healthy Korean food options to help with weight loss, Korean diet foods like tofu steak, acorn jelly, and boribap are excellent choices. These dishes are low in calories, high in fiber, and packed with essential nutrients, making them perfect for maintaining a balanced and sustainable diet.
💬 What are your favorite healthy Korean dishes? Have you tried any of these Korean weight loss foods? Share your thoughts in the comments!
Korea’s Christmas traditions may not have the same historical weight as in the West, but they’ve come a long way since the late 19th century, when missionaries introduced the holiday, even installing a Christmas tree in the palace by request of the queen. I’m not sure if any Christmas drinks were included in these early celebrations. We cover the history of modern Christmas in Korea on The Dark Side of Seoul Podcast.
While the holiday has taken on unique twists here, one thing remains true: food and drink are at the heart of any celebration. And while Korea doesn’t really have traditional Christmas beverages, I’ve discovered some drinks that feel like they belong at the holiday table.
Let’s explore these Korean Christmas drink ideas that add a little holiday magic to your winter.
Think of Moju as Korea’s answer to mulled wine, but with a cozy twist. This Jeonju specialty is what happens when makgeolli (Korean rice ale) meets a steaming pot of cinnamon, ginger, jujubes, and ginseng—all boiled together for a full day. The result? A warm, comforting elixir that’s low on alcohol (around 1–2%) but high on cozy vibes. This is Korea’s answer to mulled wine, but it’s sweeter, earthier, and way more chill—literally.
The Origins of Moju: A Mother’s Touch
The story goes that Moju (literally “mother’s wine”) was created in the 1600s by a queen consort’s mother. Exiled to Jeju Island (life wasn’t easy for moms back then), she found herself with leftover grains from makgeolli production and a need to survive. What does a resourceful queen mum do? She boils the grains with herbs and spices to create a drink that’s hearty, restorative, and—most importantly—sellable.
The original name was “Daebi Moju” (“Great Consort Mother’s Wine”), but over time it was shortened to just “Moju.” I guess when you invent the coziest drink ever, you don’t need a fancy title.
How It’s Made
The beauty of Moju is in its simplicity. Traditionally, it’s made using:
Makgeolli or leftover grains (술지게미)
Cinnamon and ginger (the heavy hitters)
Jujubes (Korean dates) for sweetness
Ginseng, kudzu root, and sometimes other medicinal herbs
The mixture is simmered for a full 24 hours. That long, slow boil removes most of the alcohol, leaving you with something that’s warm, smooth, and just a little sweet—like a hug in a cup. Think of it as the PG-rated cousin of makgeolli that you can sip on without worrying about getting too giggly.
Moju in Modern Korea
You’ll find Moju most famously in Jeonju, where it’s often served alongside steaming bowls of Kongnamul Gukbap 콩나물국밥 (bean sprout soup). This pairing is legendary—it’s Korea’s ultimate hangover cure. Imagine waking up after a long night of soju, stumbling into a Jeonju soup shop, and being handed a steaming cup of Moju to soothe your aching body and restless soul.
Fun Fact: In Jeonju, Moju is considered a Haejang-sul 해장술 (hangover liquor), but don’t let the name fool you. With its low alcohol content and medicinal vibe, it’s as close as you can get to drinking a health potion.
Even if you’re not nursing a hangover, Moju is just plain comforting. It tastes like a warm cinnamon hug mixed with the creamy goodness of makgeolli. Some places even serve it cold in the summer with a little ice—surprisingly refreshing!
Make It at Home (or Cheat the Process)
While traditional Moju takes hours to make, modern Koreans have hacked the recipe:
Grab a bottle of makgeolli.
Add cinnamon sticks, fresh ginger, jujubes, and a bit of sugar.
Simmer for about 40 minutes and voilà! Homemade Moju without the 24-hour wait.
For the full Jeonju experience, sip it hot with some bean sprout soup, a side of kimchi, and a hearty appetite.
Moju may not have the international fame of mulled wine or eggnog, but it should. It’s soothing, nostalgic, and tastes like winter should feel—warm, earthy, and just a little indulgent. If you find yourself in Jeonju, don’t leave without trying a cup. Your taste buds—and your hangover—will thank you.
Ginger Ssanghwa-cha (쌍화차): Korea’s Ancient “Power Tea”
I absolutely can’t think of an English equivalent for Ssanghwa-cha. It’s not just tea—it’s a full-on experience. Picture a boiling pot of over twenty medicinal herbs served in a heavy stone cup, bubbling like something straight out of a mad apothecary’s dream. Lurking underneath the surface you’ll often find pine nuts, walnuts, gingko nuts, sesame seeds, and sometimes even a poached egg. Yes, an egg. Before you recoil, let me assure you: it works.
What’s in This Magical Brew?
At its core, Ssanghwa-cha blends:
Baekjakyak 백작약 (white peony root)
Sukjohwang 숙지황 (steamed rehmannia root)
Danggui 당귀 (angelica root)
Cheongung 천궁 (cnidium)
Gaepi 계피 (cinnamon)
Gamcho 감초 (licorice branch)
This isn’t your cozy bedtime chamomile—it’s a bold, complex, herbaceous powerhouse. Sweetened with honey or sugar, it balances bitter roots with a gentle, earthy sweetness that feels like it could resurrect you from a long night of bad decisions.
The Story Behind Ssanghwa-cha
Ssanghwa-cha goes back to the Joseon era, where it was used as a restorative tonic for scholars, workers, and even royals. The name itself means “twin harmony tea”—a nod to its balance of flavors and health benefits. It was designed to restore energy, boost the immune system, and fight fatigue—basically, an ancient Korean Gatorade, but much classier.
My girlfriend and I stumbled upon the perfect Ssanghwa-cha experience during a trip to Jeongeup, North Jeolla Province. The town’s famed Ssanghwa-cha Street felt like a scene from an old Korean drama—tiny teahouses serving this ancient elixir in stone bowls, steam curling gently into the winter air. It was so cozy and atmospheric that I half-expected someone to hand me a quill and tell me to write poetry.
Fun Fact: Ssanghwa-cha was often consumed as a morning tonic to cure exhaustion. Modern-day Koreans still swear by it for fighting colds and recharging the body in winter.
The Ultimate Winter Tea
If you’re tired of peppermint mochas and cinnamon lattes, Ssanghwa-cha is the Korean winter drink you never knew you needed. It’s bold, restorative, and steeped in tradition—literally. It doesn’t just taste like Christmas; it tastes likehundreds of years of history wrapped in a warm, steaming cup.
Pine Needle Tea (Sulip-cha 술잎차): The Drink That Tastes Like a Christmas Tree
There’s something uniquely Christmas-y about Sulip-cha, Korea’s pine needle tea. If I find it on a teahouse menu, I order it immediately. Why? Because it tastes like I’m drinking a Christmas tree. Earthy, woodsy, with a faint whisper of citrus, this humble tea is both invigorating and comforting—like sitting beside a crackling fire after a walk in a pine forest.
Sulip-cha is made by steeping young pine needles, often from Korean red or black pines, in hot water to extract their subtle flavor and nutrients. The result is a brew that carries the sharp, resinous aroma of pine and a mellow, slightly bitter flavor. While it may sound niche or even a bit “too outdoorsy,” pine needle tea has a long history in Korea, rooted in both traditional medicine and rural life.
The History and Health Benefits
Historically, pine needles were praised for their health properties and used in traditional remedies for centuries. Korean ancestors valued pine needles for their ability to:
Boost the immune system
Improve blood circulation
Prevent hypertension and diabetes
Detoxify the body
Enhance vision
Rich in Vitamin C, antioxidants, and natural compounds like flavonoids, sulip-cha was particularly popular in winter to ward off colds and provide a refreshing boost. It was often consumed by rural communities who relied on the surrounding pine forests for survival.
But there’s a catch: Pine needles aren’t something you can just forage and throw into your tea kettle. Modern environmental practices mean that many pine trees are sprayed with pesticides or treated with chemicals to protect them from pests and diseases. Harvesting the wrong needles can be dangerous, so if you’re craving a cup, it’s best to purchase commercially sourced, food-safe pine needle tea.
How to Prepare Sulip-cha
Preparing Sulip-cha is wonderfully simple:
Ingredients: Fresh pine needles or dried pine needles (ensure they are food-safe).
Method: Rinse the pine needles thoroughly. Boil water, then steep the needles for 5–10 minutes until the water turns a gentle golden green.
Optional: Add a drizzle of honey if you like a hint of sweetness to balance the bitterness.
The flavor can be adjusted depending on your preference—steep it longer for a stronger, more resinous tea, or enjoy it lighter for a subtle, almost herbal infusion.
Sujeonggwa (수정과): Korea’s Cinnamon Punch
If Christmas had a flavor, Korea bottled it up centuries ago with this spiced, sweet concoction. It’s what you drink when you’ve indulged in a garlic-heavy Korean feast, cleansing both your breath and your spirit, but let’s be honest—sujeonggwa tastes like pure holiday magic.
Sujeonggwa, often referred to as “cinnamon punch,” is one of Korea’s most iconic traditional beverages. A heady mixture of cinnamon, ginger, and sugar, it’s simmered for hours to infuse warmth and sweetness. The drink is served chilled, with a garnish of dried persimmons (gotgam) and floating pine nuts for that unmistakable finish. One sip, and you’re transported to a festive Korean table filled with steaming jeon (savory pancakes) and laughter.
A Brief History
The earliest record of sujeonggwa comes from the 18th century during King Yeongjo’s reign (1765), when it appeared in the royal Sujag Uigwe, an official record of banquets and ceremonial feasts. The name itself roughly translates to “water-based refined dessert,” but there’s nothing subtle about its flavors. Historically, sujeonggwa was considered a luxury drink for the wealthy. Ingredients like cinnamon and ginger were expensive, as Korea had to import them, while sugar was practically a delicacy in its own right. A bowl of sujeonggwa on a nobleman’s table was as indulgent as serving truffles and caviar today.
By the late Joseon period, sujeonggwa became an integral part of New Year’s feasts and important celebrations. Dried persimmons were added to balance the spiced notes with natural fruity sweetness, creating the perfect harmony.
Making Sujeonggwa
This isn’t your average holiday punch. It requires time and a little bit of love, but the payoff is worth every minute. Here’s how it comes together:
Ingredients:
Cinnamon sticks (around 10 pieces)
Fresh ginger (sliced, about 1 cup)
Sugar (or honey) to taste
Dried persimmons (gotgam), 2-3 for garnish
Pine nuts, a handful for the finishing touch
Method:
Boil cinnamon sticks and ginger in water for about 1–2 hours.
Strain the liquid, discarding the solids.
Add sugar or honey to the warm liquid and stir until dissolved. Chill the drink in the refrigerator.
Before serving, drop in a dried persimmon and sprinkle a few pine nuts on top.
Optional: Serve it in a rustic ceramic cup for that cozy Korean teahouse vibe.
The result is a dark, amber-hued punch that looks like liquid gold. The bold, spiced notes of cinnamon hit first, followed by the earthy warmth of ginger, and the sweetness of persimmon lingers at the end. The floating pine nuts? A final nod to tradition, offering a crunchy contrast and a touch of visual elegance.
The Cultural Experience
In Korean tradition, sujeonggwa often appears after feasts, especially during Seollal (Lunar New Year) and other festive celebrations. Its sweet-spicy profile aids digestion and cleanses the palate after rich, heavy meals—making it both practical and delicious. Koreans have long believed that sujeonggwa also warms the body and wards off colds, which explains its popularity in the winter months.
But it’s not just about function. Sujeonggwa is nostalgia in a cup. It evokes memories of gatherings with family, grandparents spooning the punch into tiny cups, and the taste of dried persimmons softened in cinnamon syrup.
Modern Takes
While traditional sujeonggwa still reigns supreme, it’s seen some modern twists. Cafés now offer it as a spiced holiday drink, served both hot and cold. Some adventurous cooks even add it to desserts, infusing cakes, panna cotta, or shaved ice (bingsu) with sujeonggwa’s unmistakable flavor.
If you’ve never tried sujeonggwa, think of it as Korea’s answer to spiced tea, with its own distinct personality. It’s festive, aromatic, and quintessentially Korean. Pour yourself a glass this winter, sit by the window, and savor the way it warms your soul with its cinnamon-kissed charm.
One thing’s for sure: Sujeonggwa belongs on your Christmas table. It’s Korea’s little gift to the season, and honestly, it’s a crime not to share.e.
Citron Tea (Yuja-cha 유자차): Vitamin C in a Cup
If you’re feeling a little under the weather during the cold winter months, yuja-cha is like a warm hug in a cup. It’s Korea’s answer to orange marmalade stirred into tea—a citrusy, soothing elixir packed with flavor and a punch of Vitamin C. Whether it’s served hot on a frosty day or chilled for a refreshing pick-me-up, yuja-cha is a Korean winter staple that feels both comforting and luxurious.
A Sweet and Tangy Tradition
Yuja-cha has been enjoyed in Korea for centuries. The tea is made by mixing yuja-cheong (a thick, honey-sweetened citron syrup) with warm water. Yuja, the Korean name for citron, is a bumpy, lemon-like fruit that grows throughout the southern regions of Korea, most notably in Goheung and Geoje. Citron itself has an intense, sweet-tart flavor, like a mix of lemon, grapefruit, and sunshine, making it the perfect fruit to transform into a warming tea.
Yuja-cha has been loved for generations not just for its taste but for its practical health benefits. Rich in Vitamin C, it’s a common remedy for sore throats, colds, and winter fatigue. In fact, giving someone a jar of yuja-cheong is one of Korea’s classic expressions of care, a subtle way of saying, “Take care of yourself.”
Making Yuja-cha: Sweet Simplicity
The beauty of yuja-cha is its simplicity. You only need two ingredients: yuja and sweetener (sugar or honey). The preparation involves slicing the yuja into thin strips—rind, pulp, and all—and preserving it in sugar or honey until it becomes a thick, syrupy marmalade. But really, you can just buy the jammy stuff at the Korean or Asian market.
To make the tea, simply:
Scoop a spoonful (or two) of yuja-cheong into a cup.
Add warm water (not boiling hot—you don’t want to destroy that precious Vitamin C).
Stir, sip, and let the soothing citrus magic do its thing.
You can also enjoy it cold by mixing the syrup with sparkling water for a refreshing yuja-ade—perfect for when you want something bubbly and bright.
A Winter Staple With a Bit of Luxury
Yuja-cha’s story is rooted in practicality, but its flavor feels like a bit of winter luxury. Traditionally, the process of making yuja-cheong was a labor of love, as yuja is an incredibly fragrant but stubborn fruit to work with. The rind is thick, the flesh has a bittersweet edge, and the seeds are numerous. However, when transformed into a sweet, sticky syrup, it becomes a versatile treat that lasts all season.
In Korea, a jar of high-quality yuja-cheong is treasured in winter pantries. It’s not just for tea—you can slather it on toast like marmalade, drizzle it over yogurt, or even bake it into cakes and cookies for a citrusy twist.
The Gift of Yuja
In Korean culture, gifting a jar of yuja-cheong is a loving gesture. It’s what your mom gives you when she notices you coughing, or what friends send to one another during the cold months. Historically, yuja was even reserved for the elite due to its rarity, and the syrup was cherished as both a delicacy and a form of medicine.
Yuja-cha’s reputation for curing colds has been handed down through generations. However, while it won’t replace your doctor’s advice, it’s still the perfect thing to sip when you’re feeling run-down. And hey, it’s a far more pleasant remedy than a spoonful of cough syrup.
Modern Twists and Global Fame
Thanks to Korea’s culinary influence, yuja-cha has gained popularity beyond its borders. Cafés around the world now serve it as “citron tea” or “Korean honey citrus tea,” often paired with trendy Korean snacks. If you’ve wandered into a Korean grocery store or Asian market, chances are you’ve seen jars of yuja-cheong stacked like golden treasure.
In Japan and China, yuja is called yuzu and often takes on similar uses. However, Korea’s yuja-cha stands apart with its unapologetically chunky texture, sweet-tart flavor, and deep ties to winter tradition.
So here’s my take: if you’re cold, tired, or just need a little citrusy sunshine in your life, make yourself a cup of yuja-cha. It’s cozy, nostalgic, and just the right mix of sweet and tangy to brighten up even the gloomiest winter day.
And if you’re feeling fancy, try a yuja spritzer with sparkling water or even a yuja cocktail with a splash of soju. You didn’t hear it from me, but yuja and booze are fantastic friends.
Conclusion: Bring Korean Drinks to Your Holiday Table
From the spiced warmth of Moju to the festive tang of Yuja-cha, these Korean Christmas drinks are perfect for cozying up during the holidays. They may not have Santa’s seal of approval, but they’ll definitely bring some holiday magic to your table.
Whether you’re looking for Christmas drink ideas to pair with a holiday meal or simply want to add a new twist to your traditions, these drinks will make your holidays unforgettable. So, pour yourself a warm cup and toast to a season filled with good cheer—and great flavor.
Looking for the perfect holiday gift for the Korean food lover or culture enthusiast in your life? Whether they’re obsessed with kimchi jjigae, exploring Korean traditions, or crafting their own bibimbap, this guide has you covered. Here’s the ultimate 2024 holiday gift guide for Korean-inspired gifts, all conveniently available on Amazon. Bonus: by shopping through our affiliate links, you’re helping support our blog while ticking off your holiday list!
For the Korean Food Enthusiast
1. Voohek Korean BBQ Raclette Grill: Your All-in-One Indoor Grilling Solution
Looking for the ultimate Korean BBQ experience at home? The Voohek Korean BBQ Raclette Grill combines a non-stick grill plate and a natural cooking stone for perfectly seared meats, veggies, and more. With 1300W of power, it heats quickly to 500℉, making it easy to whip up a feast in minutes. The 8 raclette pans and wooden spatulas make it perfect for hosting, letting everyone cook their favorites—from steak and seafood to melted cheese and butter. Versatile enough for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, this smokeless indoor grill is easy to clean and store, making it a must-have for foodies and families alike. Check it out on Amazon →
2. K-Food: Korean Home Cooking and Street Food by Da-Hae and Gareth West
Discover Korean cuisine through this vibrant and approachable cookbook. This cookbook features a blend of traditional Korean recipes and fun modern twists. Plus, it includes one of my own recipes! A perfect gift for home cooks and foodies alike. Grab the book here →
Elevate your dining experience with Hagary Dragon Chopsticks, designed in Korea and crafted from 316 surgical-grade stainless steel for unparalleled durability and hygiene. These reusable chopsticks are non-slip, thanks to their textured tips, making it easy to grip everything from sushi rolls to Korean BBQ. The laser-etched dragon design adds a touch of royalty to your table, and their dishwasher-safe, rust-resistant construction ensures they’ll last for years. Perfectly weighted and beautifully packaged, these chopsticks make an excellent gift for foodies, newlyweds, or anyone who loves Asian cuisine. Shop the set →
4. DAGAON Finest Korean Snack Box
Discover the ultimate assortment of Korean snacks with the DAGAON Korean Snack Box, featuring 42 individually wrapped treats from top brands like Lotte, Orion, and Crown. This curated collection includes a mix of chips, cookies, pies, candies, noodles, coffee, tea, and more—perfect for sampling the best of Korea’s snacking culture. Whether it’s for gifting, parties, care packages, or just treating yourself, this snack box is ideal for any occasion. Packed with variety and flavor, it’s a surefire hit for friends, family, coworkers, or anyone craving a taste of Korea. Get a snack box here →
5. Ramen Pot with Chopsticks, Spoon & Bowl Set: The Ultimate Ramen Lover’s Companion
Make instant noodles an art form. Perfect for quick, delicious meals, this Ramen Pot Set comes with everything you need: a 1Qt Korean-style ramen pot, chopsticks, a spoon, and a bowl. Inspired by authentic Korean cuisine, this portable ramen cooker is ideal for dorms, small kitchens, or on-the-go dining. The pot’s compact size is perfect for single servings or meals for two, whether you’re making noodles, soups, or steamed eggs. The unbreakable bowl doubles as a serving dish for snacks, oatmeal, or salads, but remember: it’s not microwave-safe. Easy to clean and versatile, this set is a must-have for students, busy professionals, and anyone who loves quick, satisfying meals. See it here →
For the Korean Culture Lover
6. Hanbok-Inspired Accessories
Celebrate Korean heritage with modern elegance. From hanbok-patterned scarves to traditional-style jewelry, these gifts add a touch of Korea to anyone’s wardrobe. Find hanbok accessories →
7. The Dark Side of Seoul: Weird Tales from Korean Lore Comics
Immerse yourself in Korean horror. These comics are fun doorways into Korean folklore. You can order the digital or physical copies. Note that the physical copy takes around three weeks or so to ship from Korea. Get the comic →
8. Calligraphy Set
Explore the artistry of Korean Hangeul writing. A brush and ink set makes a unique gift for creative types interested in Korean culture. Pair it with a beginner’s guide for an even more thoughtful present. NOTE: Chinese calligraphy sets work as well. Shop calligraphy kits →
9. K-Drama and K-Pop Merch
Perfect for the ultimate Hallyu fan. Whether it’s BTS-inspired hoodies or Goblin-themed mugs, there’s no shortage of K-drama and K-pop gifts to choose from. Browse fan merch →
10. Korean Language Learning Tools
The gift of speaking Korean. Books like “Talk to Me in Korean” or language flashcards are ideal for anyone dreaming of learning Korean. Combine this with a subscription to online classes for the ultimate gift. Explore language tools →
Perfect for sizzling bibimbap. A Korean stone bowl turns rice and veggies into a restaurant-quality dish. Bonus: it’s great for stews too. Find stone bowls →
14. Jang: The Soul of Korean Cooking
Master the art of Korean sauces and pastes For the ultimate DIY cook, how about making authentic Korean jang (pastes and sauces) at home? Named a Best New Cookbook of Spring 2024 by Eater and Epicurious Grab the book →
15. Korean Drinking Set
Drink like a Korean. For the makgeolli and soju parties! If you’re going to indulge in some Korean rice beer and soju, you gotta pour it and drink it out of the right vessels. Check it out →
For the Tea and Wellness Lover
16. Korean Tea Sampler
Experience the subtle beauty of Korean teas. OSOLLUC from Jeju Island makes some of the best premium teas in Korea. This is a must-have for any tea enthusiast. Check it out →
17. Ginseng Supplements
Boost their health with a Korean superfood. Korean red ginseng, known for its immunity-boosting and energy-enhancing properties, is a thoughtful and practical gift. Shop ginseng gifts →
Wrap It All Up
This holiday season, celebrate the joy of Korean food and culture with these thoughtful gifts. From cookbooks like K-Food (featuring one of my recipes!) to the sweet, savory treats of a snack box, there’s something for everyone on this list. And remember, shopping through our links helps support the blog—so thank you for sharing the love!
If you’ve ever tasted a bam goguma 밤고구마 (Korean chestnut sweet potato), you know they’re not your average spuds. Creamy, nutty, and naturally sweet, they’re the MVP of Korean winter snacks, often enjoyed roasted and piping hot. But what if I told you there’s a way to turn those humble sweet potatoes into something even better? Enter: Sweet Potato Hashbrowns—the ultimate Korean sweet potato recipe.
This dish is warm, hearty, and packed with nutrients, making it a perfect choice for breakfast, brunch, or even a quick dinner. With just a few simple ingredients and a skillet, you can transform roasted bam goguma into golden, caramelized hashbrowns that are as healthy as they are delicious.
Fiber to keep you full and satisfied. Plus, their low glycemic index means they provide steady energy without the sugar crash. In short, they’re the kind of ingredient that makes healthy eating feel indulgent.
Vitamin A for healthy skin and eyes.
Antioxidants to fight inflammation.
How to Enjoy These Sweet Potato Hashbrowns
While this Korean sweet potato recipe is fantastic on its own, it’s also a star player in other dishes. Stuff it into a tortilla for breakfast tacos, pair it with grilled chicken for a hearty dinner, or enjoy it with a side of spicy kimchi for a true Korean twist.
Why This Korean Sweet Potato Recipe Works
This recipe isn’t just easy—it’s versatile. Whether you’re aiming for a healthy breakfast, a brunch showstopper, or a quick weeknight meal, these hashbrowns have you covered. Plus, they’re a creative way to use leftover roasted bam goguma.
So grab those Korean sweet potatoes, fire up your skillet, and let’s make something cozy, delicious, and good for you. Because healthy food should always taste this good.
Prepare the Sweet Potatoes: Peel and dice the bam goguma into small, uniform cubes for even cooking. I personally don’t peel them too thoroughly. I like the texture of the peel, and there are more nutrients and flavor.
Cook the Sweet Potatoes: Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the diced sweet potatoes and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5-7 minutes until they begin to soften. Cover the pan to speed up the process.
Add Vegetables: Stir in the diced onion, bell pepper, and garlic. Cook for another 5-7 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the veggies are tender and the sweet potatoes are lightly browned.
Season the Hashbrowns: Sprinkle with smoked paprika, cumin, salt, and black pepper. Stir well to coat the veggies evenly with spices.
Add Greens (Optional): Toss in spinach or kale and cook for 1-2 minutes until wilted. In this case, I used some sweet Pohang spinach. A little more than the recipe calls for.
Serve: Dish out the hashbrowns as-is, or top with a fried egg, fresh herbs, or a dollop of salsa for an extra kick. For my breakfast, I added them to some breakfast tacos.
Tips: You can use any sweet potato for this recipe. I just had these on hand.
If you use pre-cooked sweet potatoes, just brown them before adding the garlic, onions, and peppers.
Feel free to substitute your favorite chile for the bell pepper
Sweet Potato Hashbrown Recipe
If you’re looking for a quick, healthy, and absolutely delicious way to start your day, this Sweet Potato Hashbrown Recipe with Korean chestnut sweet potatoes (*밤고구마*) is a must-try!
Ingredients
2 Korean chestnut sweet potatoes (밤고구마), peeled and diced into small cubes
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small onion, diced
1 red or green bell pepper, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika (optional)
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 cup spinach or kale, chopped (optional, for added greens)
Optional toppings: 1 fried egg per person, chopped fresh cilantro or parsley, salsa or hot sauce
Instructions
Prepare the Sweet Potatoes: Peel and dice the 밤고구마 into small, uniform cubes for even cooking.
Cook the Sweet Potatoes: Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the diced sweet potatoes and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5-7 minutes until they begin to soften. Cover the pan to speed up the process.
Add Vegetables: Stir in the diced onion, bell pepper, and garlic. Continue cooking for another 5-7 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are tender and the sweet potatoes are lightly browned.
Season the Hash: Sprinkle with smoked paprika, cumin, salt, and black pepper. Stir well to coat the vegetables evenly with the spices.
Add Greens (Optional): Stir in spinach or kale and cook for 1-2 minutes until wilted.
Serve: Serve the sweet potato hash as-is or top with a fried egg, fresh cilantro, or a dollop of salsa for added flavor.
Tips
For extra crunch, roast the diced sweet potatoes in the oven at 200°C (400°F) for 15 minutes before adding them to the skillet.
If you like a bit of heat, add a pinch of red pepper flakes or a splash of gochujang for a Korean twist.
Enjoy this nutrient-packed dish that’s high in fiber, vitamins, and antioxidants, perfect for pairing with your breakfast favorites!
There’s an unspoken rule in the world of Korean fried chicken joints that many food enthusiasts have come to recognize. It’s a rule that may seem counterintuitive to some, but it’s one that has proven to be true time and time again. The rule is simple: the worse the cabbage slaw, the better the chicken.
This rule was put to the test during a recent visit to Two-Two Chicken in Myeongdong, a popular spot known for its delectable fried chicken. The coleslaw served at this joint was a far cry from the creamy, well-mixed slaw that many of us are accustomed to. Instead, it was a rather haphazard concoction of cabbage, mayo, and ketchup, seemingly thrown together without much thought or effort.
But this lack of attention to the slaw was not a sign of poor quality or lack of care. On the contrary, it was a bold statement. It was as if the restaurant was saying, “Our chicken is so good, we don’t need to impress you with our slaw.” And impress they did, but not with their slaw.
The fried chicken at Two-Two Chicken was nothing short of spectacular. Each piece was perfectly fried to a golden brown, with a crispy exterior that gave way to tender, juicy meat. The fries that accompanied the chicken were equally as impressive, perfectly seasoned and fried to perfection.
To wash it all down, a couple of glasses of beer were served, providing a refreshing contrast to the rich, savory flavors of the chicken and fries. The beer was cold and crisp, the perfect accompaniment to a meal of fried chicken.
This experience at Two-Two Chicken was a testament to the unspoken rule of Korean fried chicken joints. It was a reminder that sometimes, it’s not about the sides or the extras. Sometimes, it’s all about the main event. And in this case, the main event was undoubtedly the fried chicken.
So, the next time you find yourself at a Korean fried chicken joint and you’re served a less-than-impressive slaw, don’t be quick to judge. Instead, take it as a sign that you’re in for some truly exceptional chicken. After all, the worse the slaw, the better the chicken.
Cilantro Kimchi: A Forgotten Korean Recipe with Deep Roots
You’ve probably heard the claim: Koreans don’t eat cilantro. Many food blogs repeat it like gospel. They say cilantro—also known as coriander—has no place in Korean cuisine.
But what if that’s not true?
The Hidden History of Cilantro in Korean Food
Let’s look north. In North Korea’s Hwanghae Province, there’s a traditional Korean recipe known as gosu kimchi (고수김치). “Gosu” is the Korean word for cilantro. This dish features fresh cilantro fermented with radish and spices—just like other kimchi. That’s right: cilantro kimchi exists and it’s Korean.
Before the Border Split
Before 1953, Kaesong was part of South Korea’s Gyeonggi Province. After the Korean War, it became part of North Korea. Kaesong is famous for its cuisine. It was even the capital of Korea during the Goryeo Dynasty.
Food from Kaesong—including cilantro recipes—faded from view after the war. Much of North Korea’s food culture remains undocumented or hard to access.
Refugees Remember Cilantro Kimchi
Joanne Choi, a Korean-American blogger, shared her father’s memories of cilantro-rich dishes from Kaesong. She called cilantro “comfort food” for him—something he missed deeply. Sadly, she couldn’t find any cookbooks or recipes from that region, even in Korean bookstores.
Clues from North Korean Tours
In 2008, a travel blogger visited Kaesong and noticed something surprising: cilantro on the table. It stood out as unusual compared to food in the South. That detail backs up claims of cilantro being part of the northern diet.
South Korean Buddhist Temples Keep the Tradition Alive
Cilantro hasn’t disappeared entirely. In South Korea, Buddhist temple cuisine preserves many old recipes. At Sanchon, a famous temple restaurant in Seoul, cilantro is praised for enhancing flavor—especially with meat-free dishes.
The Language Tells a Story
Here’s another clue: Koreans use the native word gosu for cilantro. They didn’t borrow the word from English or Chinese. That suggests it’s not new—it’s been on the peninsula for a long time.
Where This Cilantro Kimchi Recipe Comes From
This version of gosu kimchi comes from a North Korean source—yes, really. The original website is blocked in South Korea, but I found the recipe through archived content and compared it to a South Korean version: Gypsy’s Gosu Kimchi.
Only the North Korean version provided detailed measurements. That’s what I based this recipe on.
According to the JoongAng Ilbo, bagels have really hit it big in Korea. In the expat-o-sphere, we’ve been noticing more bagel shops pop up over the years in our group Restaurant Buzz Seoul. The New Yorkers and Montréalers pooh-poohed most of the offerings. Not chewy enough. Too much cream cheese. Trying to make them as sweet as doughnuts. Or just not understanding how a bagel should be sliced before applying cream cheese.
I have two indicators for when a food has become a big trend. One is when I see a type of food in an area that is not that adventurous–like the suburbs I live in. I was surprised last year to find gourmet $5 doughnuts and really good patisseries in my culinarily conservative neighborhood.
The other indicator is when my non-adventurous Korean friends say they want to try a certain food that I’d been hearing buzz about. Years ago, I knew the ribs with cheese thing was blowing up when my rice-and-kimchi-every-meal (RAKEM?) friends said they wanted to try them. This past weekend, one of them said she wanted to go to Anguk-dong to stand in line for bagels.
Really?
I knew of one bagel place in Anguk-dong that’s always closed when I’m in the area, but I’m usually there in the evening getting ready to lead the Dark Side of Seoul Ghost Walk. I’d never tried it. But if my suburban RAKEM friend who almost never goes into the city wants to journey there early in the morning to wait in line for one–hmm… something’s happening.
The eatery in the JoongAng newsletter is Brick Lane Bagel, based in London.
London? Bagels? A little discordant there.
Turns out, TIL, that Brick Lane has a respected history with “beigels” since 1974. As someone who was born that year, it’s troubling to read articles that treat that as ancient history.
Shamelessly ripped from the JoongAnge Ilbo 요리레터, where the author waited 2.5 hours in line for these bagels
Where the London versions seem to be massively stuffed with meats and pickles, the Korean way is to load them down with cream cheese.
Why are bagels hitting it big?
Korea doesn’t have a significant Jewish community–only 1,000 or so. Bagels have been introduced by Koreans studying, working, or growing up overseas bringing what they loved from those places to the Land of the Morning Crowds.
According to the newsletter, it was COVID. Korea started really getting into bread about as much as western countries were getting into home breadmaking. Korean consumption of bread went up 68% between 2018 and 2022. For semantics sake, I’m doing the Korean thing here and including pastries and anything made with dough and baked as “bread.”
The Korean style bagel is characterized by not being as chewy as the North American versions. This I find surprising, as the Korean palate leans towards chewy textures (tteokbokki, chewy bacon, chewy Jeju black pork, savory jellies–I could make a big list and another post about this). They’re also moister.
Korean ingredients, like buchu (Chinese chives), raw garlic, and sweet red beans are mixed with the cream cheese an loaded on.
As for me, I’ve fallen in love with another pastry that’s gotten big lately: Salt Bread (Sogeum Bbang 소금빵). Supposedly, they were invented in Japan as Shio Pan (again, “Salt Bread”). They look like croissants, but they have the texture of Thanksgiving dinner rolls with an airy pocket. The outside is brushed with salt water, which produces a crispy shattering crust. They’re just salty enough with no sweetness, which is a rarity in a country that loves to turn every bread product into candy.
My grouchy expat cynicism in check, I have been thrilled to see this new phase of Korean baked goods emerge. Ketchup-laden sugar-garlic pastries are giving way to more sophisticated and positively localized fare. It’s an exciting time to be here.
