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[The List]: Korean Eats

Heading out to the Gubei hinterlands for some Korean eats. Inside: Seven dishes, ranging from entry level to adventurous.
Last updated: 2015-11-09


Most of us default to Ben Jia and Kyochon for Korean cuisine. Yes, they're both exemplary. But if you're willing to dig just a little deeper into the Gubei hinterlands you'll be rewarded with some pretty excellent eats. We've been piecemeal cataloging some of the highlights out on the Hongquan-Hongxing strip and surrounding areas. Our mission is far from complete, but we're off to a strong start. Here is list of dishes ranging, from entry level to adventurous, that are worth seeking out in west Shanghai.

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Mandoo at Ming Dong Hot Pot

No 5-7, 1051 Hongquan Lu, near Hongxing Lu



This second floor restaurant offers wide variety of hot pot and casserole dishes to warm your bones. Most of it is pretty solid, but we like this place mostly for it's mandoo. This is Korea's answer to the the China's jiaozi. They're plump, toretlloni-esque dumplings about the size of a small fist and are usually stuffed with pork and ingredients like cabbage, kimchi, and other greens. A basket of six will set you back 40rmb.


Super Spicy Knife-Cut Noodles at Mapuwu

1051 Hongquan Lu, near Hongxing Lu



Mapuwu slings Korean staples twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. We're pretty sure that this only possible because their staff subsists only on Mapuwu's knife cut noodles. The noodles provide just enough simple starch to keep you from going delirious, the clams and hunks of tender pork sustain your protein levels, and the intense chili-charged broth freakin' gives you wings. One bowl goes for 40rmb. It's fairly big, sharable portion, too. Look for it in hanzi as 特辣刀切面 (te la dao qie mian), that's "especially spicy knife-cut noodles".


A Big Pot of Carbohydrates at Moxiudunna

161 Xianxia Lu, near Loushanguan Lu



Tteokbokki, the Korean-style sticky rice cake, is the foundation of every meal here. From there you can build on it with other accompaniments like pork, kimchi, seafood like mussels and cuttlefish, etc. Then you can select from a checklist menu of all kinds of other stuff to throw into the pot. If the rice cakes to quell your carb cravings, there are noodles like udon and ramen or Chinese fen si, or rice noodles. They also offer a wide variety of dumplings, from standard jiaozi to deep-fried nori rolls stuffed with rice. Oh, and it's pretty cheap, too. Two can easily walk out of here, full of starchy goodness and beer, for around 100rmb.


Fried Chicken at Bulloman

No 9, Lane 1051 Hongquan Lu, near Hongxin Lu



Kyochon is usually the first place to come to mind when it comes to Korean Fried Chicken. But there are plenty of options on the Hongquan Lu strip that serve it minus the corporate sheen. We prefer Bulloman. Its main dining room is a glorified tent in the middle of an apartment compound courtyard. The place is usually packed with twenty-something punters gorging on birds and pounding draft Asahi. They glaze the chicken in three different sauces: classic Korean-style spicy, sweet soy, and sweet and spicy style. They're all equally good, but we're partial to the sweet and spicy number. Prices range around 80 to 90rmb. To drink, there is ample Asahi at very reasonable prices (15rmb for 300cc up to 140rmb for a three-liter table keg).


Spicy Stewed Kalbi at Gobawoo

No 42, 1101 Hongquan Lu, near Hongxing Lu



Just a few tents away in the same compound is Gobawoo. This restaurant offers a number of stir-fries, roasted meats and fish, casseroles and hotpot-style dishes. But we go there for the stewed kalbi. Admittedly, it's not much on presentation. They serve it in a dinged up steel pot that looks like it no longer fits in the rice cooker it came from. Just move past it and sink you chopsticks in. Basically they take kalbi, those beef spareribs you see sliced thin for Korean barbecue, and slow cook them in bean paste, gochujang chili sauce, garlic, scallions, and chopped chilies. The end result is a complexly spicy, umami-rich, pleasantly pungent beef stew. Look for it on the menu in hanzi as 酱牛排骨 (jiang niu pai gu). It's 90rmb. Totally worth it.


Marinated Raw Crab at Pro Ganjang Gejang

Suite 1M, 137 Xianxia Lu, near Loushanguan Lu



This restaurant is to ganjang gejang, or marinated raw crab, as Kyochon is to Korean fried chicken. It's become so well known for its signature dish that people in Seoul consider it one of the city's go-to places for ganjang gejang, and its expansion to Shanghai earlier this year got a lot of Chinese food bloggers pretty excited. Ganjang gejang is similar in texture to Shanghainese drunken crab—silken, with generous amounts rich, yolky roe—but tastes very different. The Asian paddle crab traditionally used for this dish comes from the ocean, and there's no alcohol in this Korean version, which uses a salty, soy-sauce based brine to preserve the meat. Pro Ganjang Gejang does the dish justice: no hint of fishiness, just a pure taste of the sea, lightly sweetened with hints of apple, garlic and scallions. One crab at Pro will set you back 170rmb, while two go for 320rmb. Pricey stuff, but one crab is usually good enough to share between two people.


Live Octopus Sashimi at Xin Zheng

58-6 Ronghua Dong Lu, near Gubei Lu



This one isn't so much a recommendation as it is a dare. Xin Zheng specializes in sannakji, or live octopus sashimi. The restaurant keeps them alive in tanks and slices them up to order. They bring to your table a plate of writhing tentacles sprinkled with sesame seeds. Some make escape attempts by squirming off your plate. Others will literally crawl up your steel chopsticks. It's not a dining experience for the faint of stomach, but if you can get over the squirm factor, sannakji is actually pretty tasty. It's best enjoyed dipped in one of the condiments provided: sesame oil or chili sauce. On very rare occasions, the errant tentacle has been known to crawl up the esophagus and down into the wind-pipe, though, so just be sure to chew each morsel thoroughly into submission before you swallow.


Rotten Skate at Namhae Hoitzip

58-6 Ronghua Dong Lu, near Gubei Lu



Once you've graduated from food that's still alive, you can advance to food that's thoroughly — perhaps excessively — dead, like hong-eo hoe. This is basically skate, a flat fish similar to a stingray, that has been allowed to age... Oh, who are we kidding? Let's just say it: The thing rots in a clay jar for upwards of 10 days. By then, it develops an aroma akin to household cleaning products. There is a reason for that. Skates excrete urea through their muscle tissue and their skin. When that breaks down, ammonia is produced. The stuff has a burn to it akin to really strong wasabi. To temper that, it's often served with bossam, or steamed pork belly, and kimchi. You sandwich the three together between your chop sticks and then dip it in sesame sauce, coarse salt and chilies. Be warned: to call hong-eo hoe an acquired taste is an understatement. Most Koreans can't even stomach it, and those who can, eat it strictly as a special occasion dish. But if you're into adventurous eating, there it is. It'll cost you anywhere from 300 to 500rmb, but that's enough for at least two people. Have at it.

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