A humble feast that redefines Korean dining

What makes Korean food stand out from global cuisines? I have often asked myself this question. For many foreign friends, the most striking feature is the abundance of side dishes that accompany a single meal. To their eyes, each banchan looks like an elegant, standalone dish. Western cuisine has traditions of its own with appetizers and desserts following a formal structure, but they are often no match for the overwhelming richness of a full Korean spread. When faced with a hansang charim, a table overflowing with food, foreign guests are often astonished and delighted.

Even for Koreans, a proper hanjeongsik, a traditional full-course meal, is a rarity. It is usually reserved for special occasions or formal settings. The price alone makes it difficult for the average person to enjoy. In places such as Insadong or Gangnam, a well-known hanjeongsik restaurant typically charges between 50,000 and 90,000 won per person. The price varies depending on the number of side dishes and the main entrée such as grilled abalone, soy-marinated crab, bulgogi, or grilled short rib patties.

But in a narrow alley that winds from Sinchon to Nogosan-dong in western Seoul, there is a small restaurant that defies all expectations. Run by a woman in her late 60s from Gunsan in North Jeolla Province, the place has served homemade meals for 40 years. Here, for just 15,000 won, you can enjoy more than 20 side dishes all made from seasonal ingredients.

Laid out in front of you are seasoned vegetables including stonecrop, spinach, mung bean sprouts, and watercress, alongside various pickles and preserved roots. Then come the savory items such as stir-fried seaweed stems, ham and sausage, fish cakes, quail eggs, tofu braised with walnuts, and more. There is crisp cucumber kimchi, spicy radish kimchi, and even fermented skate, a bold and tangy dish that reflects the owner’s southern roots.

The main course is bulgogi grilled on okdol, jade stone, served with fresh lettuce wraps and a bowl of yukgaejang, a spicy beef soup rich with scallions and shredded meat. When the meal arrives, it feels, only slightly exaggerated, like life’s hardships are being rewarded all at once.

There is no skimping. The side dishes come in large bowls enough for three or four people even if you are dining alone. How is that possible? The owner uses quality ingredients, keeps prices low, and relies on volume. Word has spread. Foreign tourists line up. Group reservations are constant. During lunch and dinner peaks, there is often a long wait or you may not get in at all.

While you eat, you might overhear the owner on the phone with her suppliers. Her voice is rough but warm. A typical snippet is, “Bring me the biggest, best box you have.” That spirit may be quietly changing how people see hanjeongsik. A desire to feed hardworking people with the best she can offer honestly and generously without pretense. A spirit as noble and warm as the sunset over the sea in Gunsan.