Eating stew, it reminds me of BTS. BTS is not exactly a traditional Korean musician; rather, their music is a mix of hip-hop, rap, dance, and more elements. However, BTS is what the world thinks of Korean music now. Budae Jjigae, or spicy sausage stew, is not a traditional food as much as Doenjang Jjigae(Korean soybean paste stew), Gujeolpan(Platter of Nine Delicacies), or court food are, but it could be seen as the most “Korean” food. Wearing an apron emblazoned with a soju company logo in a restaurant with BTS music playing, firing up the gas stove on each table and facing a pot of stew is so familiar that it’s almost a part of who we all are.‘Stew Budae’
To experience the cutting edge of budae jjigae, you have to visit ‘Stew Budae’ on Apgujeong Rodeo Street in Seoul. With a windowed front and a so-called minimalist interior consisting of only lines and surfaces, like a cafe, it’s hard to find any ‘budae jjigae-restaurant’ vibes about it. There are no unnecessary gas wires or burners because the range is induction instead of gas. The owner, who learned to cook in France, explained that he inherited the recipe from his parents, who owned a stew restaurant.
The consistency of the soup was somewhere between the thick soup of Songtan in Gyeonggi Province and the refreshing soup of Uijeongbu made from anchovy broth. The soup with plenty of beef and sausage boiled up quickly. The tomato budae jjigae, with its combination of the tangy, fresh, and sweet flavors of tomatoes with the spicy and salty taste, made me realize once again that this dish was born out of “japtang,” or hotchpotch. My doubts about tomatoes in Korean food were quickly dispelled when I found myself putting rice in the soup.
If you’re looking for the origin of the stew, I recommend visiting ‘Jungtong Budaegogi’ in Uijeongbu, Gyeonggi Province. Established in 1973, the restaurant is known for its stew, but even more for its ‘budae bokkeum.’ Located a bit away from Uijeongbu Station, in the northern part of Gyeonggi Province where the distinctive desolation of the border area remains, the sign with the words “Budae Gogi” written in a neat and orderly manner on a red background was visible from afar.
Its flagship menu, Budae gogi, is simply budae jjigae without soup. Filled with mugwort, fish cakes, various sausages and minced beef, the hot pot looked like it was covered in chili powder, but it was surprisingly not that spicy. Instead, its sweet flavor was quite prominent, so it seemed suitable for children’s palates. On the contrary, at one table, a middle-aged man made himself a glass of soju and beer mixed together, while at another table, children dipped their forks into the sausage and popped it into their mouths.
The stew was no disappointment either. It would rank the top three even if it were brought to Uijeongbu’s Budae Jjigae Alley, with thick glass noodles in a clear broth. When I turned on the gas, the savory flavor slowly simmered. The flavors, refined by years of people coming and going, didn’t surprise the tongue and stomach.
For a plain neighborhood stew without any fancy description, ‘Tongkeun Yangpooni Jjigae’ in Pungnap-dong, Seoul, is the first place that comes to mind. Tucked away on a narrow residential street behind Gangdong-gu Office Station, it’s a place where neighborhood regulars jostle for position at lunchtime. As the name suggests, the restaurant specializes in stews such as dongtae jjigae (pollack stew), kimchi jjigae, and budae jjigae. The regulars seem to pick one favorite and order it, as no one seemed to be indecisive when looking at the menu. The stainless steel tables were polished and the staff taking orders never seemed to be in a hurry. The grilled mackerel with jjigae was large enough to overhang the long plate, its bright blue color shined like autumn sunlight as if it had just been caught.
The stew, served with chives and a slice of cheese on top of a ramen noodles, was a generous portion, and the refreshing sourness from the shredded kimchi cut through the richness of the stew. The soup didn’t lean towards either side of taste. After swallowing the tanginess, the spiciness brought forth a warm sensation of sweat, and as the sweat cooled, the rich and concentrated broth filled the stomach generously. I could eat it every day and never get tired of it. Throughout the lunch break, people with permed hair, vivid climbing suits, sweaty shirts, and grease-stained jeans sat in front of the stew, scooping up the broth with ladles and adding rice in it. In the white steam from the red stew, the people and the food produced a scenery.
#‘StewBudae’: Original Stew Budae \₩10,000(US$1=￦1,336), Tomato Stew Budae \₩11,000.
#’WonjoBudaegogi’: Budae Jjigae \₩9,000, Budae Bokkeum \₩22,000 for 2 servings.
#’Tongkeun Yangpooni Jjigae’: Kimchi Jjigae \₩8,000, Budae Jjigae \₩9,000, Grilled Mackerel \₩9,000.
