Kimchi Lied to ME

Korean food has been haunting my feed like an ex who won’t move on—fiery red tteokbokki bubbling in oversized pans, golden fried chicken that crunches through the screen, and of course, the eternal love letter to kimchi. I’ve seen it everywhere. So naturally, I gave in to the temptation and finally decided: It’s time.

Well… spoiler alert: it didn’t quite sweep me off my feet.

Don’t get me wrong—these days, Korean restaurants are popping up like mushrooms after rain, and some of them? Total gems. But the place I chose? Yeahhh, more like a dull pebble in a glittery pile.

We ordered tteokbokki (because duh, main character vibes), and THANKFULLY, it lived up to the hype—chewy little rice cakes swimming in that spicy-sweet sauce of dreams. So good. The sweet chicken was also a win—crispy, glazed, everything you'd hope for in a K-drama food scene.

But the rest? Meh. Just… meh. Some dishes felt like they were trying too hard. Others were just there, existing, not impressing. I walked out feeling underwhelmed, like I’d been promised fireworks and got sparklers instead.

Was it me? Were my expectations too high? Or did I just pick the wrong place to begin this epic saga?

Here’s my humble advice if you’re new to Korean food: start slow. Grab some instant tteokbokki or ramyeon from a Korean convenience store. Try their jelly, their ice cream—it’s so worth it. Little things that let you explore the flavours without diving headfirst into a full meal.

And listen… if you really want the authentic stuff? The “OMG, I finally get the hype” kind of food? You gotta try it in Korea. Or at least from a Korean-owned spot where they cook like they mean it. That’s where the 

magic happens—the balance, the spice, the soul of it all.

So yeah, my first bite wasn’t a full-blown love affair. But it sparked curiosity. Maybe I need to taste it somewhere else.