COLUMN: Quaint Korean BBQ satisfies
Anybody who knows anything about eating in a big city understands that most of the greatest places to find excellent authentic or ethnic cuisine aren’t necessarily in the posh parts of town or tagged by some big-time, 2- or 3-star Michelin chef like Daniel Boulud or Thomas Keller.
Granted, I’ve been to places like these and they’re great — when you have a few hundred bucks to drop on a check — but here in Logan, you can find tiny hidden treasures guaranteed to dazzle your tastebuds without breaking your wallet.
That’s right, even in humble Cache Valley, the quaintest of food joints hide in plain sight. I found one such place at 111 S. Main St., aptly named Korean BBQ, which is located next door to the Oriental Food Market and Gia’s Italian Restaurant.
After eating there, I read mixed reviews on the food, atmosphere and service — some good, some bad. Considering the last review I wrote, one in which I questioned the diligence of the waitstaff and consequently hurt some feelings, I am hesitant to be overly judgemental of service.
Apparently the owner of Korean BBQ has been referred to in past reviews as “cold” and “grumpy,” however, he’s Korean, and I understand his cultural background differs greatly from mine. He was a man of few words, but I never had a problem with beverage shortage, my food came out at a reasonable time — about 10 minutes after I ordered it — and the thing I was most pleased with was the fact that he asked if I would like to use chopsticks.
In a lot of Asian-style restaurants, I find myself having to ask for chopsticks. I understand a large percentage of Americans fumble with feeble fingers and so hastily wish to ingest their food that they spare no time for chopsticks; but I appreciate a man who offers them rather than assuming I cannot use them. This was also the first time I had ever been given metal chopsticks to eat with — neat.
As for the food, I asked for the owner’s personal suggestion. This place, like most in the valley, offers the typical low-dollar specials in order to maintain a competitive edge in a highly price-competitive market. I splurged a little and went for the Korean barbecued pork at $13.05. The spare ribs caught my eye, but I didn’t feel like shelling out more than $20 for this meal.
The food arrived hot — not too hot — and along with a large plate of barbecued pork, I was given a steaming bowl of sticky rice; a bowl of pickled bean sprouts; a side of “ggakdugi kimchi,” which is pickled daikon radish; and fermented cabbage kimchi, which is traditionally aged underground until fermented in clay pots, with beef stock and red chili pepper.
I was in heaven and filled to the gills with food. However, I was given one final morsel — a Korean comfort food that bridges the gap between East Asian fare and the United States — called “gye ran mal yee,” or Korean omelet.
I have to admit when the waiter/owner initially arrived with all of that food on the tray, I had doubts in my mind that it was all going to make its way onto my table. I watched him, though, place each and every neat, little dish in front of me. Any buyer’s remorse I thought I could’ve experienced by overpaying for this entree was no longer a concern.
My method of eating a melange of food with this much character, flavor and variety involves dumping everything onto the main plate and mixing it all together, which worked well for me. I was sure to keep the kimchi, which is fermented cabbage, off to the side. I told myself I would finally try kimchi — I’ll try anything at least once — and I did, but I wasn’t crazy about it. It’s definitely fermented and definitely spicy, which makes for quite the flavor profile.
Everything else on the plate was delicious. As I alluded to before, the best element was the slices of rolled Korean omelet. The food was enjoyable and plentiful. I actually ended up asking for a box to take a portion of it home with me.
Korean BBQ is a quaint, hole-in-the-wall kind of restaurant with various knickknacks hanging from the walls, along with tapestries that pictured scenes of rural Korean farmers and mythical Korean dragons. I couldn’t help but imagine that these items may have hung on the walls of a home in South Korea before the owner of the paraphernalia immigrated to America to open this tiny Logan eatery in pursuit of the American dream.
I give this restaurant an A minus. You may have noticed I never mentioned having to pay for a Dr Pepper this time — that’s because they didn’t have it. Instead, I did the Dew; and that’s never quite as enjoyable. Otherwise, I’m pleased to say I’ll be visiting the Korean BBQ again in the near future.
– D. Whitney Smith, originally from Pennsylvania, moved to Utah five years ago. After 11 years’ experience waiting tables at a total of 23 restaurants, he decided to hang up his server apron and enroll at USU. Have suggestions for a restaurant to review? Email him at dan.whitney.smith@aggiemail.usu.edu.