Ah, the smell of sizzling meat on a grill. It’s like music to my nostrils. And not just any kind of meat, mind you, but two big, juicy rib-eye steaks lounging on a grill buried in a table between me and my dining companion. I don’t see any salt or pepper on them yet, but that’s okay. We’ve got all the time in the world to make them taste like the savory delights of heaven. And if I may say so myself, the thinly shaved pork belly stacked on the other side of the grill looks like a train that’s been derailed. Not that I’m complaining, though. It’s like a delicious mess that has my taste buds salivating.
Normally, I’d prefer to cook my own meats at a Korean barbecue joint. But things are different now, since the pandemic and all. I haven’t sat around a Korean grill in ages, and I’m feeling a bit out of practice. Plus, I’m worried that I’ll turn those thin-cut rib-eyes into ashes instead of scrumptious bites of heaven. But fear not, dear readers. There is an essential mindfulness to Korean barbecue. It’s like a zen experience that makes you forget about all your worries and focus on what’s truly important: cooking and enjoying your meat. And let’s not forget about the meat render – there’s something about letting the beef and pork shrink into tender morsels encrusted with char that gets me all excited. And hey, if you’re feeling fancy, you can even cut them on the grill and dunk them in sauce.
Within 15 minutes of sitting down at Jongro, it hits me how much I’ve missed Korean barbecue. It’s like a warm hug from a long-lost friend, but better because it involves endless supplies of meat. And the best part is, you don’t have to worry about shopping, prepping, cleaning, or shooing away those pesky friends who just won’t leave. The only thing missing is a cocktail, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, folks.
Apparently, I’m the only person in Washington who refused to savor KBBQ during the pandemic. Even when there were plastic utensils and dividers between the grills, people were still flocking to these places in droves. But who can blame them, really? There’s just something about grilling meat that brings people together, even during a pandemic. According to Tommy Han, the general manager at Jongro, people just love Korean barbecue. And who could argue with that?
Jongro is a chain of Korean barbecue joints. But don’t worry, this isn’t your usual, run-of-the-mill chain. No sirree, this chain comes all the way from South Korea, where they love their franchise restaurants. And by love, I mean they have 167,455 of them. BonChon, Paris Baguette, and Choong Man are just a few of the Korean chains that have already set up shop in the States, supported by the government or huge Korean conglomerates called chaebol. Group KFF, short for Korean Fine Foods, is the responsible party for introducing Jongro to the United States. And if that wasn’t enough, they’re also opening another location in Annapolis soon. So, if you’re in the mood for some Korean barbecue, it looks like you’re in luck.
As I look around the Wheaton location of Jongro, I can’t help but feel like I’ve been transported back in time. It’s like I’m in the Jongro District in Seoul, circa the 1970s. Architectural details like tiled roofs, wood beams, and lattice-frame windows remind me of traditional hanok houses. Even the servers’ uniforms are period pieces, designed to look like Korean school uniforms from that era. Old-school horn speakers near the bar also add to the ambiance. The best part is, Koreans of a certain vintage feel right at home here. And me? Well, I feel like a time traveler who’s landed in a deliciously meaty paradise.
Before I get carried away, let’s not forget about the food. The table is already set, and there are metal bowls filled with pickled radish paper, cabbage kimchi, seasoned mung bean sprouts, cucumber and jalapeño pickles, and more waiting for us. These are your banchan: side dishes that are complimentary and often fermented. They’re there to help cut the richness of the grilled meats, assuming you haven’t eaten them all before your meat is finished cooking. There’s a la carte and all-you-can-eat options available, but I say go for the latter. For $31 per person (the price has gone up a bit since the pandemic hit), you can feast like you’re President Taft before “climate change” was a thing. And if you’re well-versed in Korean barbecue etiquette, you know that the unmarinated meats are the way to go. And trust me, you won’t be disappointed.
Overall, Jongro is a delightful place to indulge in Korean barbecue. It may be a chain, but it doesn’t feel like one. From the meat to the atmosphere, everything just feels right. And even though we’re still in the midst of a pandemic, it’s good to know that delicious Korean barbecue will always be there to lift our spirits. So, grab your tongs, leave your worries behind, and let the grill work its magic. Your taste buds will thank you.
Serious News: washingtonpost
