01
죽
Juk
Abalone rice porridge under a spoon of its own roe and a thread of perilla oil.
Korean tasting, in cardsA tasting menu
A tasting menu
you read by hand
Eleven numbered cards, one Korean table in New York. Each course arrives printed, fermented, and ready to read.
One Korean idea, printed before it is plated.
There is no paper list and nothing is read aloud. A card lands in front of you with a single word on it, a ferment or a fire, and the course arrives as the answer. Read it, then taste it.
The card stack
Eleven courses, dealt one card at a time.
Scroll the deck. Each card stays a moment, then the next rises over it, the way the night runs at the counter.
02
회
Hoe
Raw fluke cured an hour in kelp, dressed with green plum and cold sesame.
03
장
Jang
A flight of three house ferments on warm rice, the oldest crock poured last.
04
김치
Kimchi
Winter cabbage at four months, served beside the same cabbage at four days.
05
전
Jeon
Mung bean pancake fried crisp and thin, set over scallion and aged soy.
06
구이
Gui
Short rib over binchotan, brushed with pear and the drippings caught beneath.
07
찜
Jjim
Monkfish braised slow in doenjang broth with radish that took on its colour.
08
후식
Husik
Roasted barley ice with black sesame and a card you carry out the door.
Inside the room
Four things hold the night together.
01
The cards
Printed fresh each service. You read the Korean word, then the plate answers it.
02
The jang room
Doenjang, ganjang and gochujang age in onggi behind the counter, some older than the room.
03
The fire
A single binchotan grill, no hood. Everything that meets flame is finished in front of you.
04
The counter
Fourteen seats, one seating a night, every guest on the same card at the same moment.
From the cards to the room
You read Korea one card at a time, and somehow that changes how it tastes.