“Yeodongsik’s menu showcases the expansion in Sydney’s Korean community

There are enough people and a keen interest in Korean food for specialist eateries to last.
Its haejangguk falls into the gukbap class of Korean food – lightly spiced soups made from bones, that are served alongside rice. Although the majority of Sydney Korean restaurants are liberal in salt and sauce but the simplicity and the restraint are the reason for this restaurant’s popularity. “In Korea, they don’t season soups, they make it your own because everybody has their own flavor. We’d like to make the same food as what they serve there in Korea,” says Shin.
Condiments are delivered to the table so that diners can season their own soups to taste. Photograph: Jessica

It’s not that they’re not tasty. If they were then, there would be no long line in the street, despite twenty or more Korean restaurants in the area. There are just twenty-five seats available, this restaurant is filled quickly. (For an unbeatable seat and very little chance of menu items being sold out, arrive before 5 pm on the hour.)

Made from bones and water – usually meat, but sometimes pork added later, the haejangguk simmered for hours in order to impart an intense flavor. The ppyeodagwi-haejangguk (with pork bones and shredded cabbage) and dwaeji-gukbap (with pork-blood jelly, ears and maw), for example, have a silky quality and slightly milky appearance. The self-spiced seasoning is available as saeu-jeot (salted as well as fermented shrimp) for a deeper flavor as well as perilla seed powder to add earthiness, and dadaegi (chilli garlic paste) to add the heat. “I tell my staff if a foreigner comes in, explain how to season each soup,” Shin says. Shin. Another condiment is rice. It’s served as a side dish, but it’s not uncommon for diners to adding all or some of their rice to their soup.

The Swamiji gukbap (with pork-blood jelly ears, maw and ears). Photograph: Jessica Hromas/The Guardian
The outliers to these subtle styles of soup are the yukgaejang, a slightly spicy beef and leek soup; and kongnamul-haejangguk, a hangover soup from Jeonju – a city in western South Korea – made from a base of dried anchovies and squid, with a tangle of bean sprouts and egg.
There are a few shared dishes also – jiggly pieces of cooked pork belly, the sundae (blood sausage) and a chewy but soft shrimp and chive pancake.

With only 25 seats, the dining area at Yeodongsik is packed quickly. Photograph: Jessica Hromas/The Guardian
Despite the name’s roughly which translates to “sharing food together in the one place” It isn’t the place to go for a party or soju-powered group meals. The complimentary drink is barley tea, while the music is jazzy, and the staff talk to diners with the tone like a pilot describing the late-night dinner.
It’s a place where you can enjoy an entire meal without even saying a word, and leave feeling totally relaxed and content. It’s unusually tranquil elegant, subtle, as the haejang-guk bowl.