Barely two hours into our pilgrimage to the mecca of BBQ ribs, this was already one of my favourite meals in Korea not just for its lipsmacking wang galbi, but even more for the exquisite spread of banchan fit for royalty.
Those who are impatient can quickly google Kabojung or Gabojeong (가보정), though I must warn that Google reviews may appear polarized due to its steep prices, close to 60000 Won (CAD$70) and up for certified Hanwoo beef ribs for dinner at the time of writing. But there is a way to experience it for cheaper, as I'll mention below.
In a nation synonymous with BBQ meats of various forms -- bulgogi, dalkgalbi and samgyeopsal-gui among others -- Suwon looms large as the undisputed capital of beef ribs, for decades esteemed as a premium ingredient in Korean cuisine much like poisonous fugu in Japan or abalone in China. Wherever the word Suwon goes in front of Galbi, it automatically signifies the regional specialty of marinating ribs of the freshest quality with a hand-massaging of salt as pictured above, rather than the soy-based seasoning ubiquitous in the rest of Korea.
Needless to say Suwon has become the nation's battleground central for galbi specialist restaurants, the most influential being industry-leading Kabojung with multi-storey dining hall complexes occupying three of the four corners of one crossroad in town. We made no reservation on a weekday and were lucky enough to be seated on the main floor ... with a giant turtle specimen staring at us. This was no ordinary restaurant.
Right away our serving imonim started the charcoal fire beneath an old school cast-iron lid as we perused the menu, in competently-translated English for once. As infamous as Kabojung is for stiff prices -- 53000 to 72000 Won (CAD$60 to $80) per head for dinner at the time of writing -- its weekday lunch special is a relative steal at 28000 Won (CAD$32) for a half portion (135g) of ribs from certified Hanwoo beef or a slightly larger portion (225g) of the American equivalence, all served with the same luxuious spread of banchan as dinnertime.
Arguably the most "Korean" cut of beef, the unmistakable wang galbi is a 10 cm section of meaty beef rib carved into a thin sheet around the bone in a spiral pattern with the very end still attached to the bone. One urban legend here in Korea -- which I believe to be true -- claims that shrewd suppliers have invented an ingenious method of glueing a cheap sheet of meat onto the rib bone to pass for this prized cut. That's something the patron won't need to worry about at Kabojung's price point.
Ribs come in marinated and unmarinated forms, both of which we ordered for comparison. The term Suwon Galbi traditionally refers to the marinated version for which each restaurant boasts its own secret recipe, in Kabojung's case rumoured to contain pineapples rather than the conventional Korean pears. In any case the grated fruit is meant to tenderize the flesh with its protease enzymes and also caramelize the meat surface over the charcoal fire.
The efficiency of the Kabojung waitress is something to behold, unapologetically robotic on one hand yet refining the optimization of customer turnover to an art form. From laying out the table d'hote to the masterful grilling and serving of meat to the collection of cluttered dishes, one may argue that the mandate is to kick patrons out within the 90 minute limit. While this contributes in no small part to the restaurant's polarized reviews, it hasn't stopped Kabojung's legions of faithfuls from flooding in for the lunch special.
But I want to leave the ribs for the end. First let's talk banchan.
For myself, this is the number one attribute that separates a good restaurant from an excellent restaurant in Korea. In any city you can find enough restaurants boasting their own specialty main dishes, but it's the banchan that complements, interludes and elevates the play of the mains on the tastebuds -- and setting apart the crème de la crème. Here at Kabojung it started with a customary cup of vinegared dongchimi and a salad.
At your typical gogi-gui joint in Korea, the banchan usually arrives before or with the plate of raw meat such that diners would be filling up on the sides while the meat sizzles on the grille. Not here. Our imonim brought only the dongchimi to start, and postponed the full spread of banchan until after the ribs were ready. I suspect that it was a strategy to keep diners from refilling too many times and having no room for an extra order of naengmyeon or galbitang at the end. But I may just be the conspiracy theorist of foodies.
Along with the initial dongchimi I counted 12 side dishes in total, including this surprisingly delicious salad with sweet potato, squash, apple and crushed nuts in a peanut dressing.
More distinctly Korean was this gaolijjim, a sliced of steamed stingray wing with crunchy cartilage and topped with a gochujang glaze.
Sauteed eggplants in a sweet and light soy dressing.
Crunchy lotus root in a thick dressing of black and white sesame, a superb banchan which only turned out to be my third favourite.
A standard japchae as a filling interlude, before moving onto what proved to be my favourite banchan of the meal, or perhaps of the entire trip ...
... a luxurious plate of yangnyeom gejang, the hellishly fiery variant of the ganjang gejang that has been gaining international attention as far away as Los Angeles. Marinated in anchovies, ground ginger and suicidal heaps of chili pepper flakes, these generous pieces of luscious, semi-transparent raw crab meat were just waiting to be sucked out of their shells.
True to its nickname of bapdoduk (밥도둑, literally "rice thief"), this addictively spicy crab was making my bowl of rice disappear in no time. I would revisit Kabojung just for this banchan.
Did I mention that it can be refilled? See I knew you'd ask. You're welcome!
Whew! Some green salad in a sesame vinaigrette to cool off the spiciness. My wife's favourite banchan was still to come.
It was the most unassuming dish of hobakjeon, a pumpkin pancake crispy on the outside yet magically chewy at the centre. I'm sure my wife would have given up finishing her ribs if she didn't have room for the last piece of this sublime jeon.
As if the rest of the sides weren't filling enough, there was also a doenjang jjigae with the lavish addition of a piece of galbi rib alongside the quintessential tofu and mushrooms. In case you're wondering, yes we did finish it all.
And finally, we get to the ribs which was our original purpose of visiting Suwon.
The signature Suwon Galbi was well worth the trip, tenderly marbled (the Hanwoo cut, not so much the American cut) and liberally coated with that famously fruity glaze caramelized on the meat over the smoky charcoal fire. Next time we would skip the American cut and order only the marinated Hanwoo version ... AND come again for the half-price weekday lunch special just for the banchan!
Dessert turned out to be an elegant pumpkin-shaped yakgwa, saturated with cinnamon-honey and topped with a slice of jujube date and a pumpkin seed.
My most memorable lunch in Korea wrapped up with a cup of sujeonggwa, a traditional digestif utilizing the warming effects of cinnamon and ginger. On the way out we walked past the advertisement banners for insulated boxes of Kabojung's famous galbi, more suited as an opulent gift and too heavy for us to carry on our urban hike in the afternoon.
Destination of that urban hike was Suwon's other claim to fame, the UNESCO World Heritage castle of Suwon Hwaseong with its massive Joseon era city walls encircling the Old Downtown area. An extraordinary meal followed by an afternoon outing to an extraordinary cultural icon -- there is hardly a better day-trip from Seoul.
IF YOU GO
Suwon can be easily reached by Seoul Metro's Line 1 (1 hour), or alternatively by Mugunghwa express trains from Seoul Station (30 minutes). To reach Kabojung restaurant, take Bus 300 in front of Suwon Station and get off at KBS Suwon Centre -- or just take a quick taxi (~W6000). After lunch we took a taxi to Yeonmudae (연무대) to start our hike along the city walls.
