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Attention L.A. Koreans. Please Help


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Attention L.A. Koreans. Please Help

bagdoodle | Mar 5, 2007 09:57 PM

Does anywhere in or atound L.A. serve this?

One of my all-time favorite restaurants in the whole world is wonjodak (, a chain of specialty chicken restaurants in Seoul, Korea. The one I go to every time I visit Seoul is in the Dongdaemun district, in an alley off a side-street, and looks like you're taking your life in your hands just to go in.

The place, itself, is small and messy, with just a few chrome-top tables, each of which has a large gas burner on it. As near as I can tell, there is no menu (I neither speak nor read Korean, but have always gone with Korean friends) and the only thing they serve is a sort of chicken soup/stew. (no, NOT dak tari tang).

Ordering is simple -- just tell the woman who comes to your table how many chickens you want. She then brings out a large pot of hot water with ginseng liquor, spices(?), and sliced potatoes in it and sets it on the burner to boil. Then she brings a large bowl of kim chee, which gets dumped into the water, and as many (partially steamed?) chickens as you have ordered, which she cuts up with scissors and adds to the water.

While the chicken is cooking, you make your own dipping sauce out of dried Korean red pepper flakes (the same as used in ko chu jang?), coleman's dried mustard powder, and a clear liquid (maybe vinegar, maybe ginseng wine, maybe something else).

When the chickens are fully cooked, you snare out chunks of it and potatoes and kim chee and dip them into the sauce.


After finishing the first order of chickens, the lady comes back to take your order for more. (You ALWAYS want more) and the process of cooking and eating is repeated.

Finally, when you're laying there gasping for breath (and probably giglling foolishly after having also consumed heroic amounts of soju or great Korean beer), a giant bowl of fresh hand-cut noodles is brought out and dropped into the now very rich (from cooking however many chickens) broth.

When the noodles have cooked, you somehow find a way to eat them all and all of the remaining soup, and, wildly full, and praying fervently that someone will have mercy, and you WILL be knifed as you stagger out of the restaurant, into the alley and off to your car, you ask this question:


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