Got that? The best, bar none.
While cupcakes haven’t yet taken over every bakery, cafe, coffee shop, and biker bar in Seoul the same way waffles have, they’re on the cusp of being a major trend. You can get them in department stores and upscale chain bakeries, and even a few specialty stores, like Lamb in Samcheongdong.
Fatman is telling you to forget about all of those. They’re not worthy!
Why not? Start with cupcakes that are more muffin than cake, with a dryer, grainier crumb than a proper cake. Then, top it off with a mountain of sugary frosting sweet enough to make anybody gag, and you’ve got the typical overpriced Seoul cupcake.
Not here though . . .

Absenthe’s cupcakes are exactly what they ought to be ~ miniature cakes, moist and flavorful. There’s everything from traditional favorites like chocolate and peanut butter swirl to more indigenous Korean flavors like sweet red bean (팥/pat) and bukbunja (복분자) to creative mixes like expresso and absinthe matched with frostings of a richness unimaginable and unobtainable in most Korean bakeries.

Buttercream, baby, buttercream. Rich, wonderful, velvety, caloric buttercream. And when they put red velvet cupcakes on the menu, they’re real red velvet cakes with real cream cheese frosting, not some nonsense that’s been dyed red with some white sugar gunk on top. Apple-cinnamon cupcakes likewise benefit from a judicious and tangy kick of cream cheese. But Fatman’s personal favorite is the Love Hawaii:

A sweet tropical cupcake topped with coconut creme anglaise and peach sauce, with a delicate lei of buttercream flowers, it may well be the most decadent dessert in all of Seoul. If there’s another one out there . . .well, Fatman’s ever-expanding waistline doesn’t want to know. This is enough.

Except it’s not. To support their delicious line of cupcakes, Cafe Absenthe also serves up a great variety of hand-drip coffee, espresso drinks, non-coffee drinks, and coffee-based cocktails. Some of their choices, like a rich vanilla drinking custard, are absolutely unique in Seoul. You’ll certainly not find a more meltingly rich hot chocolate anywhere else. Their menu is always changing and expanding, so check the menu when you get there. Or don’t. Just ask their very knowledgable barrista/barkeeper, or the charming owner. They’ll point you to just the right cupcake and drink to match.

Cupcakes are 4,500 won (just like every other cupcake in Seoul), and drinks start at 5,000 won. Absinthe is 13,000 won a glass.

Absinthe is tucked away in a side street near Gyeongbokgung Station. Take exit 3 and walk straight for about five minutes until you reach a four way intersection with an organic coffee shop and a Kodak store on the right hand side. Turn right at the intersection, then a left down the first alleyway, next to the plant store. Go straight (past Kohei Cafe/Gallery) until you reach a three-way intersection, and Cafe Absinthe will be on your right at the fork.

In other Gwangju news, the Kimchi Festival (한국어링크 . . . click here for English link) starts next week . . ..

Tonight only, Zen Kimchi’s brother, Chef Ben, will be dishing up delights at Fatman (and everbody else’s) favorite, Star Chef. 02.529.8248 for reservations.

p.s. Seriously, India ranks above Korea? The place of which you write: “Your best bet: You’ll probably do better just sticking to the tasty chai here”?

The Wall Street Journal ran an interesting article on the expansion of Dunkin’ Donuts in Korea today, saying that the chain was looking to almost double the number of stores in South Korea, along with turn Koreans into morning coffee drinkers. We ask you, do Koreans really need any help with that?

There’s a few problems with the article, which confuses older and widespread promotional schemes like loyalty cards with new efforts. We’re also wondering where we can get those delicious-sounding soy doughnuts the article promises (we’re pretty sure they’re either talking about the pat-filled ones, or have confused them with the much-missed tofu doughnuts from Mister Doughnut) and note that like loyalty cards, seasonal and locally-oriented products have long been part of marketing the product here, and not just for DD. We really had to get a quote from a young woman saying that it’s cool that they used one of the biggest TV stars for their commercial? Is this kind of advertising surprising to anyone whose lived here for more than five minutes?

But the biggest mistake here may be the idea that Koreans don’t really jive with coffee yet, and that the new commercials and roastery mean an attempt to create a new market, rather than cater to one that already exists.  They’re not aquiring new tastes, but having the ones they already have catered to.

Let’s get this clear: Koreans love coffee.

And not just any coffee ~ fancy, freshly roasted, hand dripped, 6000 won cups of organic pleasure. Offices across the land are equipped with drip coffee makers and instant packets. Men and women from Uijeongbu to Mokpo meet, date, chat, study, and work over cups of coffee. And frankly, Fatman wishes the WSJ would tell Koreans that they’re not supposed to like coffee in the morning on the way to work, so we could get our cup of joe without waiting forever in line behind all those locals who apparently don’t need their morning fix.

What the article (and apparently the upper management) failed to grasp is not that Koreans are being persuaded into new consumption habits or using new marketing strategies, but that the place and meaning of Dunkin’ Donuts (and many other western chains) is radically different here. Koreans won’t grab doughnuts and run because that’s not what DD is here for. People grab and run with doughnuts from the stateside branches because they’re older, uncomfortable, unwelcoming, and built to make people leave. If the international management is trying to encourage their Korean customers to do the same, they’ve got a lot of remodeling to do to make their stores nasty enough to make the office workers want to get up and leave . . .

So, hungry readers, what do you think? Was the WSJ off the mark? Is DD’s international management out of the loop? And are there really soy bean doughnuts in the case?

Tip of the fat hat to B in J (Again. Doesn’t he ever sleep? How does he always find these things first?)

Enter the Egg.

This quiet little coffee shop is off the camera-toting couple-clogged main drag, making it a tiny little haven housed in colonial-period homeyness.  Cute without being too cutesy, this cafe has plenty to offer in terms of tea and coffee, alongside a modest collection of tipples and treats.   Especially worthy of note are their traditional tisanes made from quince, jujube, and maeshil:  all of theirs are made in-house and are really exquisite, with a much deeper flavor than most places can achieve.  Coffee and espresso drinks here are competently done, so don’t worry about burned or stale beans ruining your cappuccino fix (note:  foam here tends to be on the dry side, if that’s your thing.)

Egg also has a modest menu of sandwiches, sweets, and brunch items as well as snacks to accompany any alcoholic indulgences you may chose to make from their short wine and beer list.  Sandwiches are very Korean in style with a slightly sweet edge, but well loaded with meats, veggies, and condiments and can be had in set menus that are almost a bargain among the overpriced restaurants of the district.

More interesting and strangely compelling are some of their pancakes, including one that includes every part of breakfast baked all together:

Bacon is baked into the pancake itself, which in turn is topped with cheese and egg drizzled with maple syrup.  The sweet and savory elements meld together for an unusual but decidedly delicious take on the typical breakfast plate.

Nonalcoholic drinks such as their excellent teas and coffee begin at 4000 won, with meals beginning from about 6000. Expect to shell out 5000 or more for a bottle of beer, and wines start around 20,000 won.
To find Egg, turn right out of exit 1 from Anguk Station. Take another right at the first street, and continue north along the stone-walled road. Egg will be just past the high school and middle school, on the left-hand side, almost directly across from 먹쉬돈나

Within the neatly segmented interior space, a variety of seating options give a choice between snuggling on a sofa, sitting Korean style on the floor, or sitting at more conventional tables and chairs. A differently designed space might have trouble accommodating the different styles, but clever adaptation of the existing structure gives Song’s Kitchen a homey, organic feel.

Equally eclectic but comforting is their take on food. While the menu is limited and mostly aimed at folks who are nibbling and noshing their way home after work, most of what’s there is competently executed. Italian fare like pizza and pasta stand alongside seafood and kimchi fried rice and a warming mess of ddeok, seafood, and cheese inside an whole roasted pumpkin set the tone for hearty snacks to share with coworkers and friends. While not exceptionally sophisticated or creative, the food matches the cheery atmosphere well, and the drink list even better. Tea, juice, and coffee sit side by side with a limited wine and beer list, and a funky set of cocktails. While most places concentrate on trendy mixed drinks, the most interesting mixes here tend to be beer based, including Fatman’s favorite coffee beer combo (although their sangria ain’t half bad either . . .)

Desserts here are a little bit funkier, a little bit more fun than the usual waffle and ice cream combos. Sure, there’s topped waffles here to satisfy your sweet tooth, but a little more care has gone into their creation. Instead of going with the fad for dense, bread-y, overcooked “Belgian” waffles slathered with syrups and topped with whatever sweets were on hand, the Song’s Kitchen rendition shows a little more style. The waffles are smaller and thinner than the competition, but miles away in texture and taste. They may not have the plumpness of a Belgian waffle, nor the airiness of the street waffles, but they have the right balance of fluff and butter to make for an outstanding compromise. And unlike most, they stay tender and slightly chewy instead of instantly settling into gummy awfulness. The fruit selection that comes with them is very fresh and leans towards the tart rather than sweet, and the organic ice cream on the side is a smooth balancing touch that keeps from overloading the palate. The baked apple ring on top lends a little needed crunch to the proceedings.

Prices here are middling, with most entrees running in the 15-20,000 won range since the food is expected to be shared. Plates meant for individuals run a more modest 5-10,000 won, as do desserts. Drink prices are typical, with beer and cocktails running around 5-10,000 each, and wines starting about 30,000 a bottle.

To get to Song’s Kitchen, take line 4 to Hanseong University. Go straight out exit 6, and walk for approximately twenty minutes. Song’s Kitchen is below the elevated walkway on the right hand side, with the roof sign visible from the road.