In “Macbeth,” Shakespeare famously wrote, “Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, / That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, / And then is heard no more.” And while the character Macbeth utters these words at a rather dark point in the play, in living my own little life, I’ve found that this sentiment rings true during both the tragedies and the comedies. Though, thinking about it, my life recently has been very much a comedy of errors and schadenfreude. So, I’ve been trying to work in recurring bits, inside jokes, into my life for the people watching at home, and one of them is incessantly discussing Hand Hospitality.
(Forgive me for the strange introduction, I’ve been feeling all types of ways this week.)
I’ve said this a million times before so I’ll spare you the details, but it fascinates me endlessly that for a restaurant group that seems to be prioritizing quantity over quality in a dining landscape that’s already over inundated with Korean restaurants, they do have quite a few bangers; I think they hit it out of the park with Hojokban. Originating from Seoul, the restaurant is a modern take on Korean soul food. I can no longer keep up with Korean restaurant openings in New York, so fortunately my friend Jessica snagged a reservation while I was out of town and insisted that we go.
And I’m glad we did. I was incredibly jet lagged when we went, so food really had to stun to keep my attention (and eyes open), and every single dish we ate was unbelievable. My only regret is that we didn’t bring more people to dine with us, because I want to try every item on their sizable menu.
We started with the squid yuba salad, which had a delicious yuja (yuzu) juice, soy sauce, and chili dressing on fennel and bib lettuce. I think the best salad dressings are acidic and spicy (love a Thai green papaya salad), so this nailed the taste profile I love.
As we were devouring the salad, we received one of Hojokban’s buzziest dishes: the hojok galbi. I won’t bury the lede here: this short rib was probably the best I’ve ever had, and having it served in such a visually splashy way added to the fun of it. The meat was perfectly tender, that perfect stage right before meat becomes too soft, giving it a great chew and the “melt in your mouth” sensation all at once. The scallion salad served with it was fantastic as well, notably well seasoned. (Can salads be described as well seasoned? Probably.)
However, my absolute favorite part of the meal—the part that I’ve thought about constantly in the weeks since this meal—was the perilla oil noodle. I’ve always liked the odd, bitter taste of perilla leaves, especially paired with Korean barbecue. Last year, I had a cocktail at a Korean restaurant with perilla oil in it, which first introduced me to the ingredient. It’s now become a niche obsession, and I can say with confidence that while a cocktail with perilla oil is good, perilla oil noodles are unbelievable.
It seems to be a fairly standard Korean dish, and yet somehow I’ve only discovered it recently. I love Hojokban’s take on it: cold buckwheat noodles tossed in perilla oil and soy sauce topped with seaweed, scallions, and onions. The dish was both a refreshing, lighter (and colder) bite compared to the galbi, yet also had layers and layers of flavor to dig through. It’s probably my favorite bite I’ve had in New York so far this year.
So forget about all the other Korean restaurants in this big, big city. Go to Hojokban (and Ariari… and Atoboy… ). Even better, assuming you know me IRL, take me to Hojokban, because I’m dying to try the rest of their menu. (Including the frozen makgeolli!)
Bite it!
Hojokban takes reservations as far out as a month on Resy, and for the most desirable time, it’s probably in your interest to do that. But if you’re not too picky on time (or want to take your chances with a walk-in, which is possible), dining there should be no sweat.