FatManSeoul

Ever thought that kimchi could be luxurious? No? That’s only because you haven’t yet been to Bap (밥.)
Tucked into a charming hanok in Samcheongdong, Bap serves up the best kimchi jjim Fatman has ever had the pleasure of eating ~ but first, let’s talk banchan.
Oh, these were some scrumptious ggakdugi, without a trace of the bitterness you get from commercially made stuff. These were sweet and crunchy, a perfectly little bite of radish. And while Bap might be best known for some of their kimchi-based foods,
there’s an extensive number of well-executed Japanese foods as well, the bounty of which is only hinted at when you first sit down by a small bowl of really sour, crunchy-chewy otsukemono (pickles) if you’re seeking something a little more puckering than the ggakdugi.
The home-made banchan here stand in glorious, delicious rebuke to the standard swill many restaurants rely on to fill their customers’ stomachs with. Small, perfect little jewels like mild and sweet spinach are charmingly presented, with a good eye towards color as well as flavor.

Before we get to the jjim, let’s talk about the Japanese entries. The oyakodon (chicken, onion, and egg on rice) and gyudon (beef, onion, and egg on rice) are generously portioned alternatives for those tired of the typical spicy deopbap sets you find around Seoul. The oyakodon came from the kitchen with the egg still setting on the piping-hot rice, and was silky, savory, and ever so slightly sweet, making for one of the better variants on Japanese cuisine to be found in Seoul, and one of the few non-sushi options.

But what Bap is justly famous for are its kimchi-based foods. This kitchen’s kimchi is something remarkable not just for the skill and seasoning perfection they’ve achieved, but for the extensive aging they give their condiment. Most places use fairly fresh kimchi, and even dishes traditionally made from older, soured kimchi (the original advent of kimchi jjigae was to use up the last of the winter supply) rarely venture anything that’s been sitting around for more than a few months.

Bap ages theirs for about two years.
That’s right, this kimchi has spent two years or more mellowing and biding its time until it reached such a state of perfection that is almost supernatural. This kimchi takes on qualities never before seen in poor ol’ regular pickled cabbage. It is silky, rich, almost buttery. Soft, nearly melting with a subtle tang and spice. Simmered with small chunks of pork until the sweetness of the meat mingles with the mellowness and richness of the kimchi, this jjim is just about the best to be found in our fair city.

Add a little  fresh-made tofu to that, and you have heaven on a plate.  Give us a moment as we drift into sweet reveries of the creamy tofu slipping into the embrace of that luxurious cabbage, with just a shred or two of succulent pork . . . aaaaaah!

Bap has paid a lot of attention to both the food and the atmosphere without ever feeling overly “done.”  They don’t lapse into kitsch, but nor have they kept their hanok as bare and restrained as some of the higher-end restaurants plauging Samcheong-dong.  Young people on lunch dates and business people and families all drift through the doors to enjoy an amiable and cozy bit of utter deliciousness without being overwhelmed by cutesyness or chilled by the sterile atmosphere that passes for elegance in some places.

Service is pretty standard for a Korean restaurant, with patrons just calling out to the staff when they need something.  Though small, Bap has three seating areas, including one large enough to host a small soiree.
Finding Bap can be a small challenge, but well worth the little bit of exploring it takes to find. From Anguk Station, take exit 1 towards Jeongdok Public Library (정독도서관) and Deokseong Girls’ Middle and High Schools (덕성여고/중). When you get to the four-way intersection by the ArtSonje Center, take a left (towards the main street of Samcheong-dong, and Gyeongbok Palace/경복궁). Bap is on an alley on the right-hand side of the street, visible from the main road.
Gyudon and Oyakodon are very reasonably priced at 6000 won, and kimchi jjim for two is about 15,000 won. More elaborate sets of kimchi jeongol will run 20-30,000, and worth every won.
A special tip of the fat hat to doucheburns Roboseyo for introducing us to this scrumdiddlyumptious stuff and making that fabulous map!