There is a compact area in Manhattan known as Koreatown. It is an ethnic enclave of businesses, spas, food shops, beauty salons and myriad Korean restaurants spanning 32nd to 36th streets between Madison and Sixth avenues. Over our many years living in the city, my sister Janet and I went to nearly a dozen different Korean eateries in the area. 

Most Korean restaurants have grills embedded in the tables or sitting atop them. Platters of high-quality previously marinated raw meats, such as ribeye, sirloin, skirt steak, beef short ribs, pork belly, chicken, shrimp and spicy pork butt are brought out so that customers can cook their own meat. Lettuce leaves and plain white rice are provided, as well as two different sauces (one of which is Korean miso paste), plus tongs for flipping the meat. The cooked meat, along with some rice and sauce, was rolled in a lettuce leaf and gobbled up. This can be an expensive way of eating and also a bit unnerving as one tends to the grill, especially if there are other dishes on the table that you want to sample. Luckily, there are other offerings that don’t require the diner to cook. 

Our favorite part of each meal was, and is, what awaits us soon after we sit down and pull up to the table. Within minutes a wide array of small side dishes on individual plates or in shallow bowls is brought to the table to be shared. There can be anywhere from a handful to a dozen types of what are referred to as banchan. They are gratis, and are always part of the Korean dining experience, meant to stimulate (and accompany) your meal.

Banchan consists of seasoned fresh vegetables and greens either braised or soy-sauce-based, preserved or fermented. The most popular banchan is a spicy fermented one called kimchi. Traditionally it is made with cabbage, but I’ve had mustard greens and daikon radish kimchi as well. Some other popular banchan are pickled cucumbers or bean sprouts, square cubes of fried tofu, soy-glazed potatoes, cooked spinach seasoned with soy sauce and miso, paper-thin discs or matchsticks of pickled carrots, tender squash fritters and seaweed.

Fifteen or so years ago, we were driving to our house in Callicoon, NY when we passed on Route 17B in Bethel a sign for the Korean Arts Village. We drove down a one-lane road to get there. At the entrance were elaborately carved wooden poles. Across from these was the restaurant’s large open dining room, surrounded by a wooden porch overlooking rolling hills and a pond. Around the pond were massive, deeply hued clay vessels and a gazebo sheltering mannequins in traditional Korean costumes. Inside the airy dining space, there was a gift shop against one wall where one could purchase crockery, the slim metal chopsticks used in Korean restaurants, lovely and decorative paper fans, and tubs of authentic homemade soybean (miso) and spicy, savory chili pastes. 

We fell immediately in love and were thrilled to have an exceptional, traditional Korean restaurant less than a half hour from our house. The banchan were abundant and the main courses outstanding. We had grilled pork loin strips and juicy slabs of tender beef short ribs that had been marinated in rice wine, soy sauce, garlic, pear juice, sesame oil and a pinch of sugar. Our favorite was the dolsot bibimbap, which arrived sizzling in a stone bowl. It consisted of rice topped with marinated beef and lots of assorted vegetables, plus a raw egg. A small dish of fermented bean paste accompanied the dish. I had the honor of gently stirring the thick paste into the mixture, along with the raw egg, and digging deep down, ensuring that both of us got a big portion of the crisp, crusty rice that lined the bottom of the bowl. We were heartbroken when the Korean Arts Village, along with the restaurant, was shuttered in 2012. 

Flash forward to 2022. One afternoon, Janet and I were just two blocks from our hotel in Oaxaca when we spotted a Korean BBQ restaurant called Telaseu. We peeked inside and saw sleek wooden tables, each with a grill built into the tabletop. We were greeted by a Oaxacan man in his thirties whose English was perfect and without accent. Jim turned out to be the owner and host, and explained that his Filipina wife, Lin, was the cook. How did this couple come to own what turned out to be an authentic Korean restaurant, and in Mexico of all places? 

We learned little by little, as we returned there over and over, that Jim had gone to school in California and met Lin there. There they befriended Korean students who introduced them to their unique food. Now, Jim and Lin regularly travel to California for Korean ingredients, utensils and dishware. There are tiny glasses for the clear, distilled beverage (made from fermented white rice) called soju that I drank each time we visited, and the chopsticks are made of stainless steel, as are the little shallow bowls for the banchan. 

Our usual server, Andrea, also happened to speak English, and she could not have been more gracious or solicitous. We were offered and given more banchan as the kimchi, pickled carrots and radishes, warm potatoes and crisped zucchini disappeared. We always got an order of japchae, which is a platter of cellophane noodles made from sweet potato starch topped with a mélange of stir-fried vegetables and available with meat or shrimp. The appetizer kimbap rolls were similar to what you might find in a Japanese restaurant. Vegetables, meat and rice were rolled tightly in nori seaweed and dipped in soy sauce before consuming. And Telesau’s dolsot bibimbap was extraordinary. Whenever we bade goodbye to Andrea we all said how much we enjoyed seeing each other. We had become friends.

I’m especially looking forward to our return to Oaxaca this coming October. Jim was designing a second location while we were last there and it has since opened to great success. He recently wrote to me that Sting of The Police had dined there and told him how much he loved the food. They’ve added some new items, he told me. I hope there will be even more variety of banchan than before. We’ve gotten hooked on them and I make them to go alongside grilled meats and chicken.