| Korea's Table By Rob Kunkle Special to washingtonpost.com Friday, June 1, 2001 | ||
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 The Fuji table. (Photo by LaJuan Payton/washingtonpost.com) |
Woo Lae Oak, 1500 S. Joyce St., Arlington; 703/521-3706
Woo Lae Oak, one of the most established Korean restaurants in the Baltimore-Washington area, has changed little since it opened in 1982. The large cave-like interior with white rice-papered walls and dark brown trim is showing signs of age, but to those who know this restaurant's history, the feeling is less dour than nostalgic. At the entrance to the dining room, a museum display of calligraphy and ceramics from ancient dynasties suggests the restaurant's lineage from the renowned Woo Lae Oak of Seoul, Korea, which first opened in 1946. Factoid: During Woo Lae Oak's years of operation, every Korean president who has visited Washington, D.C., has come here to dine.
A prominent bar displays colorful bottles of liquors, brandies and cognacs. The number of tables in the dining room might seat a small army. Many are equipped with grills for Woo Lae Oak's specialty, gi (barbeque, also spelled gui). Among the 13 options are kalbi gi (beef short rib), bulgolgi (marinated sirloin steak, thinly sliced), yang gi (beef tripe), heumit gi (beef tongue), dae gi (pork), pak gi (chicken) and sewu gi (shrimp). Every choice is delicious, even the chewy, beefy-tasting tripe. Korean novices, however, may find the kalbi gi and the bulgolgi easiest to enjoy. Woo Lae Oak generously marinates its bulgolgi in sesame oil, soy sauce, ginger and garlic. This gi is especially delicious alternated with nibbles of spicy cabbage kimchi or wrapped with the kimchi in a leaf of lettuce.
With scissors, the waitress cuts your choice of gi into bite-size pieces and places them on the hot grill after that, you are on your own. Some diners prefer to grill their meat exactly to their liking without assistance. But if you are unsure how, don't be shy about asking. Unless you are the president of Korea, it can be difficult at certain hours to get even a refill of water from the busy wait staff, let alone help with cooking, but help should be expected. And it is more embarrassing to be rescued if you burn your food.
Competition in recent years has lessened Woo Lae Oak's dominance of the Korean dining scene. Without question, the barbeque is among the best in the area. But given steeper prices here, more variety could be expected in the kimchi . Lettuce wrappers also run out too quickly. To be fair, refills are never begrudged, but to get a waitress's attention one must practically start a fire.
Hee Been, 6231 Little River Turnpike, Annandale; 703/941-3737
Located in Alexandria's quiet Brighton Mall beside a wig parlor and a Hispanic grocer, Hee Been continues to play "undiscovered gem" for all it's worth, despite a great reputation. Ceiling tiles do not match; duct tape mends failing wallpaper; the waitresses wear colorful pink and blue silk gowns.
If the slightly disheveled dining room doesn't appeal, better seating can be had in private back rooms. There, parties of at least six during the week or eight on weekends can park their shoes outside rice-paper-screened doors and dine at tables recessed into a polished wood decking.
The barbeque at Hee Been is just as good as Woo Lae Oak's, but it is cheaper. Generosity and variety are also evident in the kitchen's preparation of other main dishes . Of special note, Hee Been does not use MSG in most of its dishes, an unusual practice for Korean restaurants.
Han Sung Oak, 6341 Columbia Pike, Falls Church; 703/642-0808
Another Korean standard, Han Sung Oak, has received a face-lift simultaneous with the upgrading of its shopping center, Barcroft Plaza, in Fairfax. A pagoda-style cornice wraps around the room, giving the effect of a theatrical set. Large paintings of natural Asian scenes lend sophistication and class to the restaurant and promise an equally tasteful meal.
The waitresses in blue uniforms, meat-scissors in hand, are friendly and respectful. An older man or woman tends the register at all hours. There are about 40 tables, many with built-in grills and hoods. The others are set with portable grills with bright gold covers. A private room in back may be reserved for large parties of up to 250 people.
Kalbi (beef short ribs) comes to your table carmine red. The waitress pours a cup of broth and marinade into a trough around the grill, then starts your meat sizzling. This broth, for dunking or for spooning onto rice, boils at about the same time the meat finishes. The waitresses at Han Sung Oak seem less familiar with Westerners than at better-known Korean restaurants such as Fuji or Woo Lae Oak. English is spoken here, but not well. Despite this, the wait staff devotes ample attention to minding your barbeque, refilling your drink and replenishing your kimchi.
It is customary to order soup or noodles with barbeque, and you cannot go wrong with many of the options at Han Sung Oak. Kimchi jigue, for example, a winter soup, can warm you to your toes and put your mouth on fire. It is a stew of cabbage kimchi, pork, chewy rice cakes and tofu. When cooked, the sour kimchi turns gentle, even sweet but remains potently spicy. Beginners should order this dish only after learning to eat three or four servings of cabbage kimchi in one sitting.
During the summer, the traditional Korean dish is naengmyon, which literally means "cold buckwheat noodles." The noodles, vegetables and a hardboiled egg (with red chili pepper paste and rice vinegar to taste) are served in typically Asian stir-it-yourself style, with a side cup of warm beef broth. Tip: Ask your waitress to snip the noodles at your table with scissors; otherwise, they are impossible to cut with spoon or teeth. As with any cold entree, the tastes of naengmyon are subdued, but do not underestimate the thrust of that red chili pepper paste. The beef broth often confuses Westerners. In welcome contrast to the spicy noodles, this bland drink is for sipping between bites.
Fuji Restaurant, 77 N. Glebe Rd., Arlington; 703/524-3666
After centuries of wars between Koreans and Japanese, the two cultures have at least agreed to share each other's food. In Japan, they say, people now eat more kimchi than sushi. Koreans, too, enjoy flavors from Japan. The most obvious evidence of this is that you can always get freshly rolled sushi and maki at a Korean restaurant. In fact, many Japanese restaurants in America are owned and operated by Koreans.
Fuji is an example of a place that sounds Japanese but isn't only. Inside, tables equipped with grills and hoods sizzle with kalbi gui and bulgogi. The smoky picnic smells of these meats are sluiced by clarifying vapors of fresh kimchi and by fishy aromas from seafood dishes such as haemool pajon (a Korean pancake stuffed with octopus and shrimp) or jogi gui (whole fish, pan fried and broiled). The wait staff welcomes newcomers that pass through the doors with "An yung ha zeo," a respectful Korean greeting that can mean hello or good-bye.
Fuji, a busy restaurant with an even busier parking lot, serves more non-Korean faces than most other Korean restaurants in the area. One sees here the wisdom of doubling up Korean with Japanese to appeal to Western (including Asian American) tastes for both. The menu emphasizes the Korean end of the spectrum, but many Japanese dishes are also available, including an array of sushi and maki. Some of the best choices at Fuji overlap between the two traditions.
Kimbap, for example, a common Korean street food (usually served at Fuji's lunchtime all-you-can-eat buffet) is a kind of vegetable maki. Instead of or in addition to raw fish, the rolls are made with pickled vegetables. Another excellent dish at Fuji is hwae dup bap, a Korean version of sashimi. Hwae dup bap combines raw fish with rice and crunchy vegetables. To taste, stir it with kochujang, a tart ketchup-colored red bean paste.
If your dining party has the appetite, be sure also to share and enjoy some of Fuji's traditional Korean side dishes such as pajon and chapchae. Pa means green spring onion, and jon is anything battered and fried. This rich pancake is served with soy sauce and minced green onion. Fuji's chapchae, a Korean fave always served at picnics or potlucks, is particularly good: sweet-potato vermicelli noodles stir-fried with pork chops (cut into matchstick bits), vegetables and Asian mushrooms. Like pajon, chapchae is a rich dish, impossible to dislike. Although classified as a side dish, nobody will complain if you eat it alone as an entree.
Manpo Myun Oak, 7358 Little River Turnpike, Annandale; 703/256-6777
For inexpensive everyday Korean, Manpo Myun Oak (formerly Manpo Restaurant) fits the bill. This humble shop, located next to a karaoke cafe in Annandale's Little River Center, offers a good selection of entrees with average prices of about $10, except for barbeque and more opulent side dishes, which run between $12 and $17. An all-you-can-eat lunch buffet, as advertised by a county-fair-size banner on the shop's facade, costs $6.95.
The decor is classic Korean: pinks and greens, tables and trim in three kinds of wood, a brick divider potted with plants. Notices, handwritten in Korean hangul characters with Arabic numerals, are taped to the walls; they advertise daily specials. The large dining room includes a long bar (well attended during weekend evenings) and an alcove with a television and speakers for karaoke. During dining hours, parties at Manpo Myun Oak tend to be smaller and more intimate than at a larger, more formal establishment such as Woo Lae Oak. The clientele are almost entirely Koreans, all speaking Korean.
Recommended is toobu kimchi bokyum, a delicious peasant-style dish not available at many Korean eateries. As Manpo Myun Oak makes it, this side dish (or entree if you prefer) demonstrates typical Asian attention to balanced tastes and textures in this case, extreme tastes. On a leaf of green lettuce, a stir-fry of cabbage kimchi and pork, as spicy and blood-red as a bowl of kimchi jigue, is arranged with white squares of chilled tofu (in Korean, toobu, tubu or dooboo) sprinkled with roasted sesame seeds. Alone, the bland tofu might taste unappetizing, but balanced against the hot kimchi, like a dollop of sour cream on a hot enchilada, it quenches and refreshes the palate.
In Korea, drinking houses serve dooboo kimchi bokum (as it is often spelled) and its near cousin, nakchibokkum (also served at Manpo Myun Oak, but spelled nakbgeebokyum), to promote thirst. The latter is an equally fiery stir-fry of sweet, tender baby octopus and vegetables, but without dooboo. Like other Korean side dishes, it is almost too rich to eat alone, but nobody will prevent you.
Along this spicy vein, Manpo Myun Oak also serves six varieties of nyaengmyong and a gamut of Korea's famous hot pots and soups. For those who prefer less spicy soups, try sulantang, a mild beef bone soup; kalbitang, a hearty beef rib soup; manduguk, homemade meat dumplings in broth; or tuk manduguk, the same dish but with the addition of chewy rice cakes, which take on the flavor of the broth and always seem to disappear first, like sweet raisins from a bowl of cereal. Beware of anything with the word maewoon, which means "extra spicy," as in maewoon kalbitang.
Shilla Bakery, 7123 Little River Turnpike, Annandale; 703/333-2001
Dessert at a Korean restaurant is usually a slice of sweet orange or melon; a little bowl of cold persimmon punch garnished with pine nuts; or sometimes even a stick of Juicy Fruit or Doublemint gum. Koreans indulge in more substantial sweets only during celebration of a New Year or a wedding. Then, they enjoy cakes and confectioneries such as those served at Shilla Bakery.
The Shilla Bakery chain was established in Seoul. (The name bows to the Shilla Kingdom, a dynasty headquartered in Seoul during 700-900 A.D.) There are four Shilla bakeries in the Washington area, all under the same ownership. The popular Annandale version is located next to Cafe Noir, a smoky bar that attracts a hip, young Korean crowd. Because of shared parking, it can be difficult to find a spot for either bar or bakery during the evening.
Inside, shelves of goodies tempt the eyes: colorful breads, pastries, and sticky rice cakes filled with sweet red or green bean paste. Many bite-size cakes are priced at less than a dollar each. Shoppers can load up a basket of many kinds to take home, or enjoy a few on the spot at one of four elegant tables in back, perhaps with an imported Korean grape, peach, pear or persimmon soda.
During the summer, the best reason to come to Shilla Bakery is for the pat bing su, a sundae-like dessert made of shaved ice, sweetened red beans, pieces of fruit and milk (whole and condensed). There is no menu at Shilla Bakery, so you must ask for pat bing su by name or describe it to an attendant at the counter. The treat, generously mounded into a stemmed glass cup, makes a pretty picture. Enjoy the visual until your willpower gives, then stir into a soup and devour.
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