A detailed account of my dinner at Kwonsooksoo in May 2025 with descriptions of the food, the decor, the service, and the price.

Finer Things

In May of 2024, I had the pleasure of dining at the two-starred restaurant Sühring in Bangkok. I liked it so much that I wrote an unsponsored review based on my experience, as an aide-memoire for myself as much as for any potential customers of the restaurant.

As luck would have it, I had the pleasure of dining at the Michelin two-star restaurant Kwonsooksoo in Seoul, Korea – almost exactly one year after my first fine dining experience at Sühring, and with almost exactly the same people.

As a testament of good times and good food eaten with good friends, I’m continuing what I hope will become a tradition of unsponsored reviews of high end dinners. This time, I went in with the expectation that I will experience a side of Korean cuisine that I have never seen before, beyond the superficial facade of bibimbap and Korean fried chicken that I was familiar with.

The Menu

There were two dinner menus: the standard dinner course, and the slightly more elaborate Chef Tasting Course for KRW 500,000 (or about USD$350) which was what we got. 

There is no additional service charge, and the price includes two glasses of wine – a glass of white to start off with, then a glass of red that was served with the main course. I am no sommelier, but the wines were enjoyable and my more knowledgeable friends had no criticisms either.

We could pay more for additional wine pairings and for extra dessert, but since the tasting course already had these elements we did not go with the upgrades.

The Location

The restaurant is situated in the stylish and energetic Gangnam region of Seoul, but tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the glamorous luxury brand stores on the high street. Getting there involved walking up the quiet streets of a small hill, past a mix of low apartment blocks, aesthetics clinics and boutique cafes.

We arrived at 7pm on a Friday night after a long flight, to find that we were the last party to be seated. It was a busy night, and every other table was already a couple courses ahead of us. They close at 10pm, and it takes time to fully enjoy the food. We barely finished in time for them to close shop, so it’s worth considering getting there nice and early so you (and the staff) don’t feel rushed.

One benefit of dining with a large group is that we got to be seated in their private room. The space was well lit, with sleek lines and clean colours. Decorations, such ad a small vase of flowers, was minimalist but tasteful.

Each course was placed on these raised wooden platforms, which I learned is a miniature version of the traditional low tables. Those were big enough to hold several courses, and would be brought out from the kitchen to guests sitting on the floor. Besides being a nod to the past, I also appreciated how it brought the small, delicate portions of food closer to my eyes and let me appreciate their visual details better.

The Service

The wait staff made us comfortable. We were brought to our table, and they got our coats for us. We were each given a menu card for ordering, and to follow along as the dinner progressed. The staff were delicate and exact with how the plates and cutlery were placed, and the table was wiped clean between every course. Overall, the quality of the service was on par with what I experienced at Sühring.

One regrettable aspect of the service was that while our host tried hard to brief us on each course, there was a language barrier. Vocabulary and pronunciation sometimes limited how much I could learn about the food, and not having the full context behind the dish did take away from the experience of eating it.

But, I suspect I would have trouble with understanding and remembering the context even if language was not the issue. Kwonsooksoo served traditional Korean food executed at a very high level, and the nature of this cuisine is such that a course is often composed of half a dozen (or more) discrete components. 

One curious effect of having lots of small bites of many different things over 3 hours is that this dinner was very, very satiating (which is consistent with the science about eating habits and satiety). We were completely stuffed by the time the evening was over.

So, my word of advice for dining at Kwonsooksoo is this: come early, with an empty stomach.

Ratings

To keep things consistent and comparable with the Sühring review, I will use the same rating system to score each course on three domains: the visual presentation, the taste of the food, and the “wow” factor – how much I was surprised by some element of the dish.

I’ll rate them on a scale from 0 to 10. A score of 0 means that I think I can literally do better than that myself, 5 is on par with what I expect from a fancy restaurant, and 10 being unbelievable and out of this world. Which is to say, a score of 5 means that it was excellent but within the bounds of what I anticipated.

The Food

Welcome Drink with Small Appetizers

The meal started off with a large number of small bites – a theme that would recur as the night progressed. The most remarkable element of this spread of appetisers was a miniature sushi ball – a piece of sashimi wrapped around sushi rice, topped with spicy pickles, and set on a perilla leaf. The whole thing was about twice the size of a marble, and must have required exquisite handicraft on the part of the chef. The flavour pairings were different from the Japanese style sashimi I was familiar with, and acted as a gateway for me into the Korean palate.

Other small elements of the appetiser spread stood out to me. The dumpling filling was made with beef and shimeji mushrooms, and surprisingly well balanced with the addition of some sweet pickles. The fish cake had an earthy hint of ginseng. There were 2 pieces of crispy fish jerky that successfully straddled the line between sweet and savoury. Another element was a chilled terrine with a pleasant snappy texture, and a refreshing acidic tang.

Generally, the appetiser course was enjoyable, as was the makgeolli (Korean rice wine) it was served with. But perhaps because it was quite similar to the Chinese cuisine that I grew up with, nothing jumped out at me in a mind-blowing way.

Presentation: 5/10
Taste: 4/10
Wow: 4/10

Sea Squirt, Pen shell scallop, Seasonal fish, Manila clam

Some members of our party could read Korean, and told us that the menu description for this course was “the smell of the spring sea”. Which was quite appropriate, as it was indeed springtime, and the edible flower garnish evoked the vibe of the season.

The main component of this dish was a piece of steamed croaker in a manilla clam broth. The fish was cooked just right, and the flesh was delicate and sweet. I appreciated how the broth was very gently salted, and that let the taste of the clams really come through.

The fish was topped with finely diced vegetables, predominantly yellow bell pepper. It was barely cooked, and retained pleasant grassy notes as well as a crunchy bite.

All in all, this was a dish that was gentle and subtle in an enjoyable way. The sparing use of seasoning let the fresh ingredients take center stage.

Presentation: 4/10
Taste: 5/10
Wow: 3/10

Kimchi Cart, Boiled Meat Slices

This is the part when the performative aspect of a Michelin level dinner began. The staff rolled out a cart, and gave each of us a card with a list of the many different types of kimchi they had on offer. Each of us could pick three from the cart.

My first choice was a Bossam kimchi, made in the North Korean manner. It was fermented together with seafood like octopus and shrimp, which gave the Napa cabbage a strong umami shellfish taste in addition to acidity and spice. An interesting spin on a familiar dish.

My next choice was cabbage fermented in a broth made with pheasant meat and bones. The flavour of the bird permeated the vegetables with a pleasant subtle meatiness, and the acidity was more subdued compared to other types of kimchi.

My third choice was tomato kimchi. This was the least seasoned of my picks, and that let the natural sweetness of the high quality produce come through. It was novel to me that tomato can be made into kimchi, but it didn’t scratch that itch for crunch and savouriness that you expect when you think of kimchi.

One interesting pick that others in our party made was the Gyeop kimchi. This was a more refined kimchi that involved rolling cabbage around beef and abalone, and the form factor was effective in elevating it in elegance.

However, the crown jewel of this course for me was the pieces of boiled beef brisket. Despite the unassuming appearance, its aroma filled the room when it was brought out. The texture was meaty and unctuous, and the taste was rich and beefy. Like the steamed croaker, the beef was very gently salted, and that let the meat’s flavour be front and center.

All in all, the kimchi cart broadened my horizons when it comes to kimchi. But there were so many options that it was difficult to fully comprehend the info dump that we got, and I lacked the familiarity with Korean food to appreciate the context and effort behind the chefs’ creations.

Presentation: 4/10
Taste: 4/10
Wow: 6/10

Zucchini flower, Shrimp, Sweet corn, Pinenut

One of the highlights of this dinner for me was this zucchini flower tempura, stuffed with a mixture of tofu, shrimp and sweetcorn. I’ve never seen a zucchini flower before, let alone eaten one, so this is new to me.

The stuffing was good (and demonstrated the skill and dexterity of the chef), but what I admired the most was the zucchini itself. The deepy fry was evidently very well done – the tempura batter was light and airy, not greasy at all, and the crunchy texture of the zucchini was preserved. The taste was buttery and nutty, unlike any zucchini I had before.

The tempura was served with pine nut foam and mint oil as a dipping sauce. While the texture of the foam was interesting and the taste was novel to me, I can’t say that it left a strong impression on me.

Presentation: 5/10
Taste: 6/10
Wow: 7/10

Jang tasting, Korean caviar, Abalone

Jang is the Korean term for sauces made with fermented soybeans, and in this case it refers to soy sauce. We were given 3 different soy sauces to try, before deciding which one to have with our caviar on minced abalone.

The wait staff carefully pipettes a drop of each soy sauce onto a small tasting spoon for us. The first vintage was aged 20 years. Compared to the industrially produced soy sauce made by hydrolysing soy protein, this fermented soy sauce was more acidic, and had more of a cheesy funk.

The second vintage was aged 45 years, and we were told it was made by the chef’s mother. Compared to the 20 year soy sauce, it had a more intense umami, with a sort of needling sensation on the tongue. It also had a notable bitterness, and the flavour of both meat and seafood.

The third soy sauce was made with abalone. While I could not taste the shellfish, it had a curious aftertaste that reminded me of unsalted peanut butter. All 3 soy sauces were a far cry from the store bought sauces I am used to – I guess I’ve never had the “real deal” before!

I ended up choosing the 45-year soy sauce, partly because I wanted to avoid the acidity of the 20-year soy sauce, but also because I was enticed by the intimacy of the chef bringing something from his home to the restaurant table.

However, I regret to say that the soy sauce got lost in the already very savoury mix of abalone and caviar. Not to say that it tasted bad, because the food was still very enjoyable. But for a restaurant at this level and at this price point, I would expect something breathtaking rather than something that was “merely” excellent.

Presentation: 4/10
Taste: 4/10
Wow: 4/10

Blue crab, Korean wild chive, Tofu

The next course was a paste of tofu, blue crab, parsley and chives served in a tiny cup. This was all hidden by submerging it in a broth made with beef, crab and chili peppers. The broth was sweet, spicy and rich with meaty savouriness, but it jeopardized the delicate fresh flavours of the crab tofu. Perhaps this is a legitimate way to do things in Korean cuisine, but personally I would have enjoyed it more if the broth was an accompaniment to the crab and not the other way around.

Presentation: 4/10
Taste: 4/10
Wow: 3/10

Morel mushroom, Swim bladder of croaker, Pheasant

This shot, as well as those of the crab tofu that came before, illustrates the effect of elevating the food to chest height by the use of the platform tables. The bowl couldn’t have been more than 3 inches in diameter, but the detail on the morels are easily distinguished because of the close distance.

The mushrooms were stuffed with something that tastes like a mild cheese (presumably the croaker’s swim bladder as the menu suggests), and served in an umami and earthy broth made with pheasant, beef and chicken. The aroma almost jumps out of the bowl once the lids came off, and the flavour was equally wonderful.

Presentation: 5/10
Taste: 5/10
Wow: 4/10

Sea Cucumber, Croaker, Chestnut, Mung bean porridge

The appearance of a sea cucumber may be unsettling for those unfamiliar with it, but I grew up with them on the menu. Sea cucumber is considered a delicacy in Chinese cuisine, usually in soups or stews where it contributes gelatin to create an unctuous, lip-smacking broth.

Even so, to see it as the main character, stuffed with flesh from a croaker and served on mung bean porridge, is a first time experience for me. Like with many of the earlier courses, this dish was subtly flavoured and well-balanced, and no individual component overshadowed any other.

This dish was a welcome break from the strong flavours of the crab tofu and the stuffed morels. My guess is that Korean medicine, like Chinese medicine, assigns health-promoting and restorative properties to sea cucumber.

Presentation: 4/10
Taste: 4/10
Wow: 5/10

Main course – Korean Tteokgalbi / Striploin steak

I’ve never heard of tteokgalbi before I saw the menu, so I chose this over the striploin steak. I’m here to experience new things, after all! Turns out, tteokgalbi is a meat patty made with minced short rib, seasoned in a sweet-and-savoury sauce, and grilled over charcoal (and of course, Maangchi has an excellent recipe for it).

To me, tteokgalbi is like the 5-star version of a hamburger. It’s fatty and juicy and rich, and I would love to put it on a mountain of rice and demolish it like a giant Korean loco moco. It was also served with grilled white asparagus, a variety of pickles, and a minced mushroom sauce that reminded me of duxelles. These refreshing bites gave my palate the opportunity to recover from the very rich short ribs.

But because of the resemblance of tteokgalbi to a hamburger patty, it somehow feels out of place in a fine dining menu, no matter how well executed it is. Perhaps this is another situation where cultural context comes into play – tteokgalbi used to be served in the royal Korean court, so it is probably considered a delicacy here.

Others in our party ordered the locally sourced sirloin steak. We all had a bite, and it was excellent – beefy, juicy, tender, and cooked to a perfect medium. If I went to Kwonsooksoo a second time, I would order the sirloin steak instead of the tteokgalbi.

Presentation: 4/10
Taste: 4/10
Wow: 3/10

Korean Mountain Vegetables Pot Rice

We’re told this is typical of the way that the common folk in Korea used to eat: vegetables mixed into rice, plus a variety of banchan to go with it. Super healthy, super filling, and an aspirational way to eat on a day-to-day basis. I would be very happy to be served this at a sit-down restaurant on a weeknight.

But several factors came together to take away from how much I enjoyed this course. This is perhaps another occasion where my lack of cultural background didn’t let me fully appreciate the food. While the individual banchan were nice, none of them really popped for me. In addition, we were already completely stuffed by the time this was served. This course didn’t leave a strong impression on me, and I don’t have much to say otherwise.

Presentation: 3/10
Taste: 4/10
Wow: 3/10

Pine nut rice cake, pine ganache, soy bean ice cream

This was the first of two dessert courses. On the right was a cake made with rice flour, topped with a cracker, on which there was a pine cone jam. I couldn’t identify the white cream that was attractively piped on top. The woodiness of pine jam was an interesting first for me, and the rice flour cake had a pleasant chewy texture plus a very subtle sweetness. 

The soy bean ice cream was good on its own as well, but the real magic happened when I ate some together with the cake. The ice cream added some needed sweetness, and brought the cake up another level. Neither element was very strongly flavoured, but they came together in a synergistic way to create new, also subtle flavours in a way that was surprising.

Presentation: 4/10
Taste: 5/10
Wow: 6/10

Petit Fours

To finish, another cart with various sweets were paraded out. After a very lengthy introduction for the half dozen or so treats, we were each given a platter of them with a choice of chrysanthemum tea or coffee. It being almost 10pm, everyone at our table picked the tea.

The petite fours were all good, but only a few stood out as exceptional. There was a piece of caramel candy wrapped in parchment paper that was dusted with jujube powder – both familiar flavours to me (I use jujube in Chinese desserts), but an interesting experience when combined. The other thing that left an impression was a ball of mochi dough wrapped around a fig jam mixture, which was a fun party of sweet and fruity tastes delivered with a sticky, chewy texture.

Presentation: 4/10
Taste: 4/10
Wow: 4/10

Reflections

Most of the time, I eat for sustenance. That’s where the bajilion variations of chicken and rice on this website are for. Sometimes I pay a bit extra for convenience, for something that’s hard to make at home, or to have something different. Then sometimes, I drop KRW 500,000 (or about USD$350) for a long evening of excellent service, wonderful decor, and a parade of food that I’ve never tried from an unfamiliar cuisine.

Truth be told, I feel that I lack the cultural knowledge to fully appreciate the depth of this dinner, which no doubt represents Korean cuisine at a very high level. For something that cost basically the same amount of money as Sühring, I felt like I got less bang for buck: the courses seemed more elaborate, more complex, and I could see where the work went into the food. But I don’t know enough Korean cooking to know what’s hard to do, and what’s not.

Having said that, my horizons were broadened when it comes to what Korean food can be. I appreciated the high level of execution of culinary technique, the quality of the ingredients, and the effort that went into the plating.

I also admired how sparingly the food was salted. Even though I often describe parts of the meal as tasting subtle or delicate, it does not mean the food is bland – far from it, by doing only the bare minimum necessary, Kwonsooksoo let the taste of the ingredient itself take center stage. And that’s probably possible because the restaurant has access to much higher quality ingredients than a home cook, and much more skill and practice in turning those ingredients into excellent food.

If I were to describe my takeaways from this dinner as a home cook, it would probably be this: high end restaurant cooking is so fundamentally different from home cooking that it isn’t worth the effort to emulate. While I might take inspiration from the flavour profiles and presentation for cooking on special occasions, in the future I am content to churn out more of my workhorse meal preps 99% of the time and save the serious big boy cooking for the professionals.

SWR

12 May 2025

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