Having written about South Korean music and waxed about its cinema, it was finally time to take the plunge and explore the neon-Kingdom’s cuisine, while seeking an answer to that immortal question: is there more to K-food than kimchi?
Before going further, a little context: at the heart of appreciating Korean cuisine is the understanding that unlike Japan, where food developed with little foreign influence until the late-1800s, Korea’s fare evolved from a combination of traditional agriculture and the contributions of occupying groups, including the nomadic tribes of Mongolia and the conquering armies of China and Japan. Despite this the Korean diet has remained centred on three core food groups – rice, vegetables and meat – with each colonising force adding its own influence.
For my journey of discovery I enlisted a Korean friend and gave him some clear instructions. First up, I wanted to go to a place where, when I shut my eyes and tasted the food, I was transport to the neon-lit heartland of Seoul. Next, I wanted something that was not over-the-top expensive, a bane that strikes a number of South Korean establishments in the Penh. Finally, ever the bike peddler, I wanted something that was central and not out in the boondocks. “Easy,” my epicurean guide replied. “Jaru on Street 225.”
It’s 7:30pm on a Sunday evening and I’m seated at Jaru, a mere stone’s throw from the Royal University of Phnom Penh. Already the table is covered with small dishes and we haven’t even ordered yet. My guide, seeing the doubt on my face (“What? Where did this come from?”), tells me these are appetisers that traditionally accompany the beginning of a meal in Korea. When in Seoul…
Looking beyond the starters I decide on Jaru’s full dine-set ($8) to get the full K-food experience. Two things are soon clear. First, it’s habit for most of the food to arrive in one wave and very quickly our table is brimming with plates and it’s difficult to find a space for our drinks (sadly there’s no Korean beer here). Second is that while portions are numerous, servings are small. This emphasis on side dishes, banchan in Korean, is a defining feature of the nation’s cuisine with the various foods intended to complement the main serving of rice.
Now I may know my Super Junior from my Big Bang, but I’m struggling to work out the parentage of some of the food set out before me. There is kimchi, of course: fermented cabbage which manages to be spicy and sour in the same bite. There’s also a fried fish: small but extremely tasty, it’s called ‘croaker’ and has to be imported from marine farms back in Korea.
Close runner-up are three strips of fried pork belly. Nicely seasoned, like the fish they’re big on taste but small on plate-size. Some marinated mushrooms (I have to ask my friend what they are) provide the Korean equivalent of ‘If you don’t eat your greens, you get no dessert.’ Next up is a dish of grilled marinated beef known in Korean as bulgogi and which regularly graces Top 50 lists for the planet’s most delicious foods. I’ve been dying to see what the fuss is about and am pleased to report the Jaru version is well seasoned and perfectly cooked.
For the penultimate treat we’re served soup, which arrives on a sizzling hot plate. The presence of fermented soya-bean base, know in Korea as doenjan, gives the soup its name and results in a dish that resembles miso in taste. However, this is an altogether more exciting fare than the Japanese variety: added to the mix are minced pork, zucchini, onion, potato, chillies and capsicum. It’s a ‘miso stew’ – and it’s outstanding.
Finally, as all good journeys should, we finish with a drink: another Korean treat know as sujeonggwa and featuring a brown-coloured punch that includes ginger, cinnamon and dried persimmon. The punch is sweet and spicy and is served, so I’m told, to aid digestion. Like the fish, pork belly and doenjan, it’s another highlight.
So how did we fare? On taste, price and accessibility, Jaru fulfilled all of my criteria. Other things such as décor and service weren’t overstated, with the bright lights and stark surfaces characterising some Korean establishments thankfully absent. Neither bold nor flash, Jaru understands what it’s about and delivers with a confidence that requires no bells or whistles: it’s good and it knows it.
Jaru, #35 Street 225; 023 885665.