FROM KANSAI TO KOREA // Weekly Food Dump #10
Time for another super-dump! This week-ish, I'm bouncing between one of Japan's ancient capitals and South Korea's sprawling metropolis.
Howdy, reader! This week’s dump is gonna be a bit different from normal. I’m gonna divvy it up between two cities instead of just doing a big ol list… I was originally gonna do one dump for Kyoto and one for Seoul, but I honestly didn’t eat as much in Kyoto as I’d hoped, but I’ll get into that later! And please, I’m begging, stay for Seoul—or skip to it. I had—without an ounce of hyperbole—one of the best meals of my life. I also closed the second-best bar in Asia and, by default, the best bar in South Korea.
Here’s the Insta post:
Kyoto
Kyoto reminds me a lot of Boston. It’s historic, pretty, architecturally distinct, and makes me feel broke as hell. Kyoto’s still a nice place; it’s just hard to believe that it’s in the same metro area as Osaka, which feels like its polar opposite in a lot of ways.
Swapping street food for high-brow Kaiseki-style dining and utilitarian architecture for more traditional buildings, Kyoto is a well-preserved snapshot into an older, quieter Japan compared to the overwhelming sprawl of Tokyo and Osaka. It’s clean, neat, and absolutely packed with historic buildings and temples. It feels like every other bus stop is attached to some kind of historically significant site.
While it’s not as known for food as the nearby Osaka and Kobe, Kyoto’s food history and impact on international dining culture is so fascinating; it’s where western-style tasting menus originated after French chefs came to Japan experienced the multi-plate meals found at Kaiseki-style restaurants, and brought what they learned back home. Taking a walk through Kyoto, you’ll notice that legacy remains strong. Lauded imports like Noma—once considered the best restaurant in the world—stand alongside homegrown fine dining establishments.
Sadly, I didn’t get to sample the goods. Lots of those restaurants are ruinously expensive and pretty difficult to get into on a moment’s notice. Plus, I spent a good handful of days laid out thanks to my ankle sprain. I still ate well, but I didn’t get to explore as much of the fancy stuff as I’d wanted.
#1: shabu-shabu // Shabu-Shabu Tajima-ya Shijo
Shabu-shabu is Japanese hotpot. Named for the sound your meat makes as you swish it around in bubbling, flavorful broth, it’s maybe the best thing to eat when haven’t eaten for a while because, say, maybe you spent your entire last night in Osaka drinking and eating your ass off until the sun came up and had to spend your morning lugging a 40-pound suitcase with a busted handle through one of the most visited places in Japan, on and off packed commuter trains, all without eating… Just me?
I’d lost my earbuds in a taxi, so I had to head to a mall to buy a replacement pair. Earbuds are a non-negotiable for solo travel, especially three months’ worth. I was pissed, hungry, and tired. But thankfully, most Japanese malls and department stores have pretty solid food court options. You’ll find tons of casual, cheap spots to grab udon, tempura, Italian, pastry, and hotpot in malls, department stores, and train stations all over Japan.
And when I saw one-hour all-you-can-eat beef shabu-shabu for less than $15, I knew I had to jump on it. I hadn’t had it since getting to Japan because it'd been so hot for most of the time that I was there. This specific chain has a free bar for toppings, noodles, rice, sauces, and veggies to add to your simmering stock. Oh—and an ice cream bar! But more on that later; I went to a different location with friends later on.
#2: ramen // The Ramen War
The Ramen War continues to be one of my favorite ramen chains in Japan. They don’t share a single, unified menu. Just a madcap bent that results in some pretty cool takes on the noodle soup. This specific bowl was marked as a limited supply. I fell for the marketing and ordered it with every topping—look at that mountain of green onions! This intense, dark broth was fishy and salty. Complemented by the punchy green onions and the creamy draft beer, it’s an interesting break from tradition. I don’t think I like it as much as the other seafood-based broth ramen I’ve had, since shrimp stock is usually less pungent. Still, this was delicious. And it looks so cool with the meat draped around the edges of the bowl!
#3: assorted yakitori // Torikizoku
Have I really traveled to a city in Japan without going to Torikizoku? Yes, but it’s nice to go with friends for good measure. I popped in with the first friends I made in Japan; Brad and Aisha, who introduced me to the yakitori chain.
We went out for a few after as well and I had an epiphany. This whole trip, I’ve been craving a Bloody Mary. Sadly, Japanese Bloodies (and tomato-his) aren’t up to snuff; They’re overly sweet, under-seasoned, and not nearly spicy enough for me. But the bar we went to had a “weird sour” menu, consisting of a handful of cocktails that mix unusual ingredients with shochu and soda.
One of those ingredients was salted, pickled plum. Brad ordered that, I think I got mango or something. Brad didn’t like it so we traded and I tasted the mystery briny cocktail that I’ve been chasing! I ordered another and asked for a bottle of Tabasco with it to the absolute shock of my waiter.
Lo and behold; this was the spicy, briny taste of home I’d been looking for. I’m definitely going to use this for future spins on Satan's gazpacho.
#4: hostel breakfast // Guesthouse Gajyun
My Kyoto hostel is adorable. It’s a cozy, family-run joint in a hundred-year-old Japanese house. It’s a really peaceful spot—complete with a friendly shiba-inu named Jiro, a garden, and a killer free breakfast. The owner’s rightfully proud of his daily bounty of miso soup, flavored rice with seasonal veggies, roast salmon, fresh fruits, eggs two ways, and various juices. It’s not just tasty and nutritious, it’s also a great way to get all the guests talking to each other, which isn’t always easy in hostels.
#5: apple // Nara grocer
I tagged along with Brad, Aisha, and Aisha’s parents for a quick trip to Nara, one of Japan’s old capital cities. It’s most famous for its park, which is overrun with deer. They make the dumbest sounds imaginable and it KILLS me every time I hear it. It sounds like a fucked up squeaky chew toy that never stops going. I nearly pissed myself from laughing at these demonic dogs. They’re the said to be sacred messengers in Japanese folklore but I don’t know if I’d be able to take a god seriously if that was their message. Then again, taking gods seriously isn’t really my strong suit.
Anyways, we were walking along Nara’s shopping street between the train station and the park with all the deer when I saw this HUGE apple. I had to have it. Japanese fruits are usually really high-quality, and this one was a decent price. And man, it smelled so good… I don’t think I’ve ever found an apple so fragrant. I chomped it down and fed the core to a local demigod.
#6: ramen // Tenkaippin
It’s the ultimate lunch! This chain offered sets that included stuff like gyoza and fried chicken, but I just stuck with a bowl and a pint! This is a great example of cheap, everyday, no-frills ramen, which is what makes this dish so great. Unless it’s something really special, ramen that’s more than 1000 yen before toppings (right around $6.65 at the time of writing) is probably a scam. Even 1000 yen is pushing it a bit!
#7: izakaya dinner // Tarokichi
This smattering of small plates represents a pretty standard array of stuff you could find at your average izakaya or yakitori spot. Boiled edamame, Agedashi tofu, pickles, and fried chicken share one thing in common: they’re all great companions to beer! It’s a pretty typical sight for me on a night out in Japan, including my favorite travel companion: a bound leather notebook, which has seen many a bartop across Japan.
#8: beer and kimchi // THE MAIN BAR
I’m beginning to think that beer and pickles would be the title of my memoirs. I find myself eating it at every turn, no matter which continent I find myself on. And kimchi happens to be one of the best pickled veggies out there. Plus, it’s really good for your gut.
This standing bar also had cardamom-flavored shochu, which was pretty damn good. Oddly enough, the dry flavor with the cardamom reminded me of Turkish coffee.
#9: a second izakaya dinner
I took a few friends that I made at the last place to what I thought was a Torikizoku, but it wound up being a separate izakaya. Still tasty—and they had shrimp chips! These umami-rich, crunchy bites are kind of like Cheetos if they were slightly sweet and umami instead of cheesy. They’re easily one of my favorite snacks on the planet, up there with the long-gone ranch-dipped hot wing-flavored Doritos.
#10: premium shsabu shabu // Shabu-Shabu Tajima-ya Shijo
Remember when I said I came to the same shabu-shabu spot twice? This is the second visit: this time with unlimited wagyu. I ate a helluva lot more than last time as I bumbled my way through Spanish conversations with a handful of Mexican and Spanish friends I’d made. I took full advantage of the ice cream bar this time too; I mixed chocolate cake and strawberry flavored ice creams and pineapple and yuzu flavored sorbet. The combos were great but the strawberry/chocolate one handily took the cake.
#11: citrus jelly // friendly old guy
An older Japanese Canadian guy brought a box of this jelly to my hostel to share with some of the folks staying there. Made with some of the locally grown citrus found on the Seto Inland sea, it tasted a bit more tart than an orange, but sweeter and more floral than the average lemon—in other words, delicious.
#12: beef udon // cafe LCM
I must’ve been a pitiful sight this day. It was my second day stuck in my hostel, and my ankle was killing me. So I limped to the udon restaurant across the street and ordered this tasty, brothy bowl of beef and noodles. It’s a pretty standard example of Japanese food, with a slightly sweet, soy-based broth; tender, thin-sliced beef; a poached egg; and topped with chopped green onions.
#13: Indian FEAST // スバビハニ市役所前店
Indian food in Japan strikes me as a popular lunch option. Most of the Indian joints I’ve eaten at or walked past feature set meals, often with some permutation of naan, a couple of curries, some chicken, soft drinks, ice cream or other sweets, beer, and so on—I usually grab the premium option since I’ve got a bigger appetite than your average lunchtime diner in Japan. And while I’ve yet to find Indian food that hits my admittedly masochistic spice needs, this was still very good. I’m glad to have smelled this on from the street as I was wandering around Kyoto looking for a doctor who spoke English.
#14: ramen // Gion Shirakawa Ramen
This was one of the best bowls of ramen I’ve had since getting here. Rich, flavorful, and fatty, but not coma-inducing, I made an ass of myself as I ravenously slurped my noodles coated in fatty broth. Not because I broke any rules or spilled my drink, but because I was surrounded by other Westerners who, apparently, missed the memo about slurping your noodles. I got some looks from the English couple next to me—it’s always the English. Except for Brad! And some kind folks I met in Korea, but we’ll get to that later.
#15: matcha and imo ice cream treat
Sweet potato is one of my greatest, most embarrassing culinary blindspots. It’s not that I dislike sweet potato, but you’ll never find me going outta my way to eat it. But it’s becoming increasingly popular as an ingredient in all kinds of deserts, and this seemed so distinct from everything else I’d seen. And I kinda liked it! My personal ick comes from its texture in just about every form. It’s somehow always mealier and starchier than I like; even when it’s mashed. But mixed with a small dollop of whipped cream and a scoop of some luxurious vanilla ice cream? It was pretty good.
Ironically, I had the exact inverse with my cup of matcha… It was funky, bitter, and grassy—all in ways I didn’t like. Which is unfortunate because Kyoto’s very famous for its matcha, but it seems like folks there prefer to have it in lattes and deserts rather than by itself.
#16: airport conbini run // Family Mart
I tend to hate eating in airports and on airplanes. I usually find it expensive, unsatisfying, and flavorless. Of course, there are exceptions (see: my very dumb last meal in Seoul at the end of this dump), but they fall few and far between. So imagine my excitement when I found a near-full-service Family Mart in my terminal!
I grabbed a beer (which exploded everywhere—typical), some curry-flavored cup ramen, a Spam musubi, and a fruit and whipped cream sandwich. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Japanese convenience stores are God’s gift to mankind. Can you imagine how much cash 7/11 would rack up in the States with a slightly different offering of convenience food? And I’m sure you can more easily imagine a post-shift, caffeine/booze/THC-addled Charlie stumbling into a cheap, 24-hour convenience store delighted to the verge of tears at finding premade, $2 Spam musubi at 4 AM.
Seoul
Coming to South Korea was an unexpected treat. I came here partially to cheat my 90-day Visa-free stay in Japan so I could meet some friends coming out to Osaka for work before I head back to Wisconsin for the holidays. But that’s not to say I didn’t want to come; quite the opposite, actually! I adore Korean food and drink, but I wanted to spend more time learning the language before properly diving in. With Seoul at my back, I’m even more motivated.
I took full advantage of the bounty of South Korean cuisine; spicy food, tons of fermented side dishes, stewed veggies, and crisp beer—sometimes mixed with soju. I also (as you read earlier) had nothing but the best of luck and experienced unbelievable kindness and hospitality at every turn. I didn’t expect this. Lots of the folks who’d come to Japan from South Korea didn’t seem too hot on the experience. Rude people, harder to navigate, too American... I think they just might be kinda fuckin’ lame! Only partially kidding.
#1: spicy fried chicken, Cass // Chicken Baengi
I love Japanese food. I really can’t put enough platitudes in front of what I’m about to say (and what I’ve been saying) to properly express how Japanese food and eating in Japan have affected me. But Japanese food is woefully lacking in spice. It’s flavorful, delicious, and diverse, but rarely—for my taste—satisfactorily hot. I really was missing a crucial pillar of my diet and it was starting to wear on me. So when I got to Seoul, I made a point to find the nearest fried chicken restaurant and order the spiciest Korean-style fried chicken I could find. With an ice-cold beer, of course.
Soon after my misty-eyed affair with this delightfully spicy chicken, I told my partner that it healed my soul. And it really did. I felt like myself after a few off days; no doubt thanks to the endorphins you get from eating spicy food. I practically cleaned the plate, eating every shred of the green Korean chilis used to garnish my fried fowl and running my fork through the thick sauce, licking it off my silverware like a lunatic.
#2: pizza // Myeongdong Pizza
Korean pizza has become something of an interesting trend. The Dominos and Pizza Huts of East Asia in general have become pretty famous on Western social media for some of their more out-there pizzas but I’ve read and heard ton of whispers about South Korea’s burgeoning pizza culture in particular. Hell, even Italians have come to recognize South Korea as a rising star in the international pizza game.
I found Myeongdong Pizza to be a tad more American than the vera pizza Napoletana folks like my Italian buddy from Naples would probably accept as the genuine article, but it still hit. I was raised on Jack’s and Topper’s at home—until my dad realized what a great pizzaiolo he was—and Dominos and Little Caesar’s at school, so I’m no snob. The cheese-only half of my pie went great with the sweet (probably honey-based) dipping sauce it came with. And with a few generous dashes of Tabasco? Spectacular.
By the way, I’m all for putting hot sauce on this style of pizza but I generally dislike Tabasco. I think its specific flavor is great for balancing out sweetness as a secondary hot sauce in a Bloody Mary but I can’t say I’d ever go outta my way to put it on pizza. I much prefer a wing-style sauce, Siracha, Mexican hot sauce, or spicy ranch but it was excellent here.
The barbecue half was overwhelming in the best way; it’s almost like a hybrid between the meat lovers and deluxe pies you’d get in the States, turned up to eleven.
#3: fried baby crabs! // Myeongdong shopping street
As I’ve noted in the past, I can’t stand bugs. But when they’re way bigger and fished outta the ocean? Different story altogether: the mere sight of crabs makes me salivate.
It’s funny, seeing these crabs reminded me of being a kid and visiting a hobbyist fish store with my dad as a little kid. Watching the penny-sized, bright red crustaceans crawl around under the black lights and wanting to have some as pets is one of my most vivid childhood memories. So naturally, I had to eat em. I’d love for a therapist to unpack that one.
They were umami and briny; rich with the taste of the ocean and incredibly crunchy. If I wasn’t so turned around, I’d have been eating them with a beer, which would have been perfect. They were still tasty, but eating ‘em by themselves clearly isn’t the original intent.
The French term for seafood is fruits de mer, which literally translates to “Fruits of the sea,” which is apt: the fruit wasn’t quite ready to be picked. I’m happy to pay a fraction of the price for fresh crab, but it’s better when it’s grown in my opinion. But again, this would be an elite bar snack.
#4: Barbecue
Socially inclined dining is some of my favorite. Being a dive bar-bred theater kid and bartender-turned-journalist, I’m well familiar with the beauty of drinking food meant to be enjoyed with gossip. And stuff like hotpot, dim sum, and Korean BBQ are kind of the ultimate shit-talking scenarios. What else are you gonna do as your meat cooks but mix soju with beer and spill your guts about your crush, family troubles, or latest drunken adventure? If you were thinking anything else, I’m afraid I don’t want to get KBBQ with you.
I went with a group of friendly folks from my Hongdae hostel. One helluva party, complete with the intensely Korean mixture of beer and soju. Soju’s become pretty trendy in the US, but those of you who recognize it might assume I’m talking about the delicious, candy-sweet, headache-inducing, fruit-or-yogurt-flavored rice wine. But in this situation, I mean the “fresh” flavor: a slightly higher-ABV variant without the added flavoring. You’d be surprised at how often folks mix it with beer. You’d also be surprised at how seemingly innocent it is. Needless to say, it hit a handful of us like a truck.
#5: beer snacks // Suzie Q
I was just loose enough to wax poetic when these classic snacks hit the table at this divey, grungy, basement vinyl bar. I wrote in my journal, “I’m downing popcorn like I’m a kid at the Chancery. This, plus some classic rock playing is making me nostalgic as hell. To make things better, the popcorn’s stale.”
As a kid, one of my favorite places was The Chancery in the Wauwatosa Village; one of the last of a small local chain that served nicer bar food. If memory serves, my parents met while working at one! I went there with my dad all the time—he’d get a beer, probably one of the increasingly popular local IPAs from the mid-aughts—and I’d get a root beer. We’d sit at the bar or a table with a train view if I was lucky (I loved trains as a kid, something I’m starting to reconnect with as I diver further into urbanism and leftism). Another core neighborhood memory with the old man.
Pretzels have nothing to do with this. But they’re also quite tasty next to a crisp beer.
Also, they had Miller Genuine Draft. I still prefer High Life, but I can’t lie; I was on the verge of tears—proud and nostalgic—at finding some of that sweet hometown swill. I proudly bragged that I grew up a stone’s throw from The Miller Valley and blathered on about Milwaukee dive culture, Friday Fish Frys (which is something I’m still more into as a cultural amenity than a meal. I’ll have the burger; it’s probably worth burning in hell for if it’s from a Milwaukee dive), rolling out the barrel at Brewer games, the world-champ Milwaukee Bucks, Harleys, cheese curds, Eater nods, Top Chef hosting, lauded skyline, Bloody Marys, and The Violent Femmes. I’m so proud to be from Milwaukee and I can’t wait to feel that shiver I get every time I see the view from I-94 as I drive north into The Good Land.
#6: Mushroom Fritatta // Cocorico
French readers: cover your ears (eyes?).
Korean bakery is amazing. I’ll make no illusion that anything can top a perfect, crusty baguette with some cheese, butter, and ham to taste, but this is something different. My friend Patrick and I were walking off the sins of the night before, wandering a neighborhood that’s much more local than the young nightlife district of Hongdae and he mentioned this place. Now, I’m still working on mushrooms. It’s another embarrassing blindspot, though one I’ll always eat. But this cheesy, perfectly greasy pastry did some heavy lifting in bringing me around on fungus.
#7: feast // Yeonnam-dong Gamjatang Bone Haejangguk Songgane Gamjatang
When it comes to food, I’m rarely at a loss for words. Hell, I could be tucking into sure-as-shit ambrosia and I’ll still offer my unsolicited opinion to anyone within earshot. But looking at this picture and thinking about the meal I had, it’s hard to come up with the right words beyond categorizing it as one of the best meals I’ve ever had.
From the rich, unctuous pork belly lettuce wraps to the springy, spicy stir-fried octopus to the pork back stew, I really can’t think of many things that could top this. And having drank enough to kill a small army the night before, the fatty, meaty, fermented, brothy, and spicy meal worked wonders on my state of being. I often joke that Sunday Brunch is my church, but if I could choose a time to be raptured, it’d be there and then. Though my understanding of “The Rapture” comes from The Chronicles of Narnia, so I might not be grasping it properly. I sure as hell wasn’t focused on anything but getting the hell out during Mass or Confirmation school.
First: the ssam (Korean for "wrap” or “wrapped”). I felt like a barbarian, gluttonously shoving this lettuce or perilla leaf wrap cradling roast pork belly dipped in a spicy sauce, topped with rice and homemade kimchi, smeared with doenjang (Korean fermented soybean paste) into my mouth in one bite. Still, I managed. I’m gonna be recreating this at some point soon.
Next: the nakji-bokkeum (spicy stir-fried octopus). Mixed into a mouth-wateringly greasy pile of stir-fried something, this is hands-down the best octopus I’ve ever had. Still springy and distinctly octopus-y (cue Bond Theme), but not woody—where most octopus dishes and preparations fail for me—it was the exact kind of meaty, chewy, juicy, greasy, and flavor-dense bite I needed when I first bit into it. I always avoided this dish at my local Korean joint because of my trepidation around eating octopus out, but I think it’s time to change my tune; I trust the aunties at Joon Boo Market with my life, after all.
And finally, the gamja-tang (pork back bone stew). I was giggling like a schoolgirl as I ate this hearty, spicy, euphoria-inducing stew. The broth—and the potatoes that soaked it up—were stellar. But the highlight was the pork: I tore away at the meat-coated vertebrae like a kid opening gifts on Christmas, setting aside the fatty shreds of fall-apart meat to soak for a little longer in my broth. I had to apologize to my friend for making all sorts of giddy expressions as I separated bone, connective tissue, and all matter of semi-edible bits (for gnawing on with a beer, naturally) from each other.
Again I found myself joyful; on the verge of tears. Not from simple nostalgia like with the MGD but because it’s the first new country I’d been to since 2017. I remember hearing that you become a different person every seven years and I think my last trip to a new country (Japan) was the beginning of the end for my old self. I certainly felt like a different person from last time. More jaded, sure, but also more appreciative of the art in front of me.
#8: Sesame latte
I remember a (non-Korean) friend telling me that cafe culture is so overwhelmingly popular in Seoul because the average apartment is so small that you can hardly invite a friend over to hang out at yours. It wouldn’t surprise me, and most of the time I spent talking to Korean folks was about food, drink, or culture. This latte had some kind of whipped, nutty black sesame stuff in it with some sesame-coated sweet rice cakes on top. Tasty all around!
#9: Fried Chicken and Corn // Chicken in the Kitchen
Stepping into Chicken in the Kitchen immediately reminded me of the broasted chicken that my mom’s side of the family orders for family gatherings in the summer. I don’t know the exact history behind how this hyper-regional kind of fried chicken made its way up to Little Sturgeon, WI given its apparent connection to the South, but I’m grateful for it. Even though I rarely ate it as a kid, often opting for a burger, that smell is unmistakable.
Fried chicken in Korea draws its lineage from Black and southern GIs who taught locals how to batter and fry a bird just like back home. Sprinkle (or drizzle) in some Korean spices and flavors, and you get one of the world’s best takes on fried chicken. It’s transcendent, and probably my favorite. It also came with some roasted corn. Which was mind-blowingly good; crispy, flavorful, sweet, and addictive, I need to figure out how the chef did that.
#10: marinated crab! // Gebang Sikdang
Gejang (soy-marinated crab) is the stuff of legends. Ever since I saw Esther Choi try it in Koreatown in LA on Heat Eaters, I knew I had to try it. As we’ve established, I get hungry at the mere sight of crab. So the thought of deconstructing that most crave-able of crustaceans by letting it ferment in flavorful soy or chili paste to soften and macerate its leg and claw meat before scooping its innards out over a bowl of rice and savoring each and every spicy bite in Seoul was impossible to resist.
This specific joint was probably a tad high-end for this kind of operation. Awarded a Bib Gourmand by the Michelin Guide, there was something satisfyingly perverse to the sensation of making a mess of the delicate fruit-of-the-sea as I squeezed meat out of its limbs like a tube of Go-Gurt in what would normally seem like a stuffy institution.
#11: Pastry for missed trains
Adventure’s such a tease. You spend your life gazing out the window, watching her flit around, just out of reach. You know she’s out there coyly flaunting the freedom and joy only she can offer; but you weasel out when she comes knocking on your door. It’s something I’ve grappled with for my entire life; often failing to rise to the occasion to meet adventure when it calls. This trip is part of an attempt to correct that. So when I realized I took the wrong train from Gangnam (yes, that one), I had to kick myself a bit to even point at a pastry and use my embarrassingly bad Korean to say, “One of these please!” Still, I struggled; pacing around the station for a while, out of cash and with enough to either buy a pastry or get on the train. I made the right choice and hit the road to explore the neighborhood and make more mistakes.
Train stations in Seoul have beautiful bakeries. Offering an assortment of sweet and savory treats, often for a pittance, it’s something I could romanticize all day… It reminds me of reading a passage about walking home with fresh bread in French class, which was the first time food made me cry. I may or may not have commandeered a textbook in collaboration with my high school French teacher so I could revisit that same passage over and over again.
#12: a trip to Zest, the best bar in South Korea
Working in the service industry—even with my minimal kitchen knowledge and experience—will often disillusion you from truly enjoying a nice restaurant or bar. Few restaurants are actually what they say they are. Fewer still are able to maintain that veneer while also presenting consistently creative ideas. And almost none of them reach that level of acclaim without becoming pretentious. Zest, a low-to-zero-waste cocktail bar in Seoul, vaulted over every expectation I had with ease. It’s been awarded ‘Second Best Bar in Asia’ (seemingly a few times), and I had the absolute honor of closing it down last night. I tried eight different cocktails as I reveled in the bar’s surprisingly chill vibes and chatted with its deeply humble staff, who deserve the world. So many creative secondary uses and ideas for kitchen products that would otherwise feed weeds in a landfill—and they were actually good—not just clever or chin-scratch-inducing as these kinds of drinks can sometimes be.
I also had an opportunity to do what I do best fancy cocktail bars: geek the fuck out. Everyone egged me on with kindness, answers to all my technical questions about infusions and fat washes and cocktail development, and—of course—ply me with the customary bartender’s handshake every few rounds. I had the privilege of talking to Zest’s talented lineup of mixological rockstars, including Rachel Shin; an award-winning bartender and mixologist whose unflinching skill and precision was a thrill to witness in action.
The Caprese
Surprisingly apple-y, this martini-ish mix of herbal infusions, sherry, special gins, and vermouth was outstanding. As far as I know, there’s no balsamic in there, but its fruity flavors captured the Italian dish’s rich, complex flavor. Meanwhile, the basil-infused gin, helped keep things appropriately green and fresh, and the tomato-favored wafer tied it all together.
Oh. My. Gibson.
Another martini riff—this time a riff on a riff, really. I hope you won’t get tired of me saying things were tasty because I’m gonna keep doing it! This one used a citrus and cardamom gin and featured a seasonal pickle. I enjoyed taking uncharacteristically dainty nibbles out of some pickled apple as I sipped on this drink.
The Z & T
The ‘Z’ stands for Zest. I texted a fellow G&T obsessive, Griffin Mang of Yin Waster fame, “I just had the best gin n tonic maybe in the world … You should come to Korea.” We resumed our normal shit-talking afterwards. Either way: this is the best G&T I’ve ever had.
They make a seasonal tonic with the most sustainable fruits available at any given time of the year. Like every other cocktail I had last night, it was magnificently balanced, and delicious. With notes of citrus, pomegranate, and fall/mulling spices, it was like drinking a crisp gust of fall wind. Just stellar.
The Soy Caramel
I met a friendly American guy from Boston. Not only was he a kindred soul, but he also spoke great Korean and offered me a drink, which was incredibly sweet of him—he also met his wife in Chicago! Aways a connection. This drink was luxurious, with umami, buttery, and savory notes that blended perfectly with the shortbread cookie and sweet bourbon that came with it.
Daiquiri No. 6
The Daiquiri is part of my elite lineup of go-to cocktails to order when I’m out back home; it’s up there with The Americano, The Margarita, The Gin & Tonic, and The Dirty Martini. This take was sold as a melon-flavored daiquiri, with coconut and sesame fat-washed liquor, cucumber, Korean kiwi schnapps, and pineapple: a combination of words engineered in a lab to make me salivate.
This is the best Daiquiri I’ve had; smooth and balanced, this surprisingly creamy cocktail painted my tongue in a melon-y pastiche of flavors. I think this was my favorite drink of the night.
Sikhye Milk Punch
I’m a total sucker for clarified drinks. They’re often fatty, buttery, smooth opportunities for a good mixologist to get really weird. The best cocktail I’ve ever had—from Giant in Chicago—was a clarified drink. This pumpkin-flavored milk punch was no exception, and used a delicious, umami amaro-flavored dust that added some welcome savoriness to the equation. It’s what I wish pumpkin pie tasted like.
Cosmos
This martini riff was really cool. First off, it used vinegar made from dead champagne, which lent the cocktail a surprising champagne-esque flavor. The syrup combined with some dry vermouth, gin and herbs, to hit all sorts of diverse flavor notes. Such a cool drink!
No Coconut Here
This is Zest’s almost-Pina Colada. Swapping out coconut for a sweet, creamy, overproof makgeolli, which is a Korean rice wine. You can get it in the States at Korean grocery stores—I recommend it. Balanced with some smoky, umami mezcal, some fermented pineapple, and walnut orgeat, this was a tiki dream. A very inspiring one.
#13: Gopchang-jeongol // 삼남매설렁탕
This came at Rachel’s recommendation. A bartender’s recommendation is as good as gold as far as I’m concerned: we usually know the chefs and restauranteurs in our neighborhood, eat out a lot, and tend to care a lot about food. She actually recommended I get Seolleongtang, which is a non-spicy brisket soup but I made a mistake while ordering... I have got to learn Korean.
No regrets. The springy beef small intestine soaked up the spicy, savory broth beautifully. I wish I’d gotten a beer, because you really do need a beer when you’re eating stewed guts, no matter where in the world you are.
#14: Crunchwrap Set Meal // Taco Bell
Remember when I said my last meal in Seoul was dumb? Maybe embarrassing is more apt. But hear me out: I was running a little later than I’d hoped for my flight back to Osaka. I made it through security, immigration, and got near my terminal with 15 minutes to spare before boarding. Just enough time to tear through some Taco Bell. I ordered the crunchwrap meal, which came with a crunchwrap, a hard-shell carnitas taco, and some chips. With extra hot sauce and nacho cheese, of course. I would’ve gotten Korean food, but the options in my terminal would’ve taken too long to cool down.
This may have been the most perfect travel day I’ve ever had: everything timed out perfectly. No waiting at the terminal, thumb-in-ear; no security line (I didn’t even have to take off my shoes or take out my laptop), and despite my last-night-in-Seoul shenanigans the night before, no hangover.
Song of the Week: Midnight Rambler by The Rolling Stones
From the hook to its jammy looseness to Jagger’s harmonica chops on full display, this is The Stones’ quintessential live song. It’s been on repeat in my earbuds—and my head when they’re outta battery—over the last week. Just an insane amount of swagger in this one. It’s off of Let It Bleed, which is easily one of the best albums of the 60s from front to back.
Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for one last hurrah in Osaka, homecoming debauchery, and the beginning of the deluge of delicacies that is holiday season in Wisconsin. I’m very excited for my non-American readers to get a taste.