Cho Dang Gol Korean Restaurant - Koreatown
55 W. 35th St., New York, NY 10001
The other evening I couldn't make up my mind about what to eat. I had been stressed and not feeling well, which put my emotional cravings in conflict with my physical best interest. Whenever in doubt about what to eat while living in Nanjing, I ordered Korean food. However, without realizing, I had somehow omitted Korean food in my culinary adventures in Manhattan. I decided to right this negligence with a trip to Koreatown.
Despite a small queue out the door of Cho Dang Gol just after 9 pm, once inside we were informed the kitchen would be closing imminently. Why would the kitchen close so early, especially with a full house and a line of eager patrons? I will never know. We could eat, the hostess told us, but only if we placed our orders while we waited for a table. The food would be served as soon as we sat down.
Typically at Korean restaurants, several small dishes of pickled this and fermented that come out first as appetizers--whether you order them or not--and are soon followed by the main course. However, all of our small plates, our main bibimbap and soup, as well as our waters and teas were served with NASCAR speed and coordination. A whirlwind of waitresses descended on our table, and five or six arms reached out to set the table, which was fully stocked mere seconds later. They rushed to the next table without a second glance.
Small dishes aside (not my favorite usually), the food satisfied all cravings. Just healthy enough to leave no regrets of indulgence, the soup and hot stone pot were both warm and filling. We enjoyed a brothy seafood soup with red droplets of spice floating at the surface that looked more ominous than they tasted. The bibimbap did not have the same look--Julianne vegetables atop smoldering rice, with a sunny egg resting on the surface--to which I grew accustomed in China. However, the bulgolgi (beef) and special Korean red sauce mixed into the pot in the perfect fusion of spice and natural flavors. (Several different waitresses had asked in passing if we would like them to mix the bibimbap for us. We politely said we could stir on our own.)
While patrons quietly dined, servers speed-walked through the path of tables and chairs like young boys who are scolded not to run at an indoor swimming pool. After asking for a fried egg to garnish my bulgolgi bibimbap, our waitress yelped acknowledgement in such a distressed way that I nearly fell over laughing at the comedic absurdity.
Halfway through the meal, a young female waitress check bombed us. In a drive-by deposit, she informed us that the register was closing. When we finally did pull out our credit cards, another waitress snatched the black bill book and scurried away. She returned with the receipt and two small glasses of heavily sweetened ginger ice tea for dessert.
The whole experience was cartoonish and absurd, yet still delicious.
55 W. 35th St., New York, NY 10001
The other evening I couldn't make up my mind about what to eat. I had been stressed and not feeling well, which put my emotional cravings in conflict with my physical best interest. Whenever in doubt about what to eat while living in Nanjing, I ordered Korean food. However, without realizing, I had somehow omitted Korean food in my culinary adventures in Manhattan. I decided to right this negligence with a trip to Koreatown.
Despite a small queue out the door of Cho Dang Gol just after 9 pm, once inside we were informed the kitchen would be closing imminently. Why would the kitchen close so early, especially with a full house and a line of eager patrons? I will never know. We could eat, the hostess told us, but only if we placed our orders while we waited for a table. The food would be served as soon as we sat down.
Typically at Korean restaurants, several small dishes of pickled this and fermented that come out first as appetizers--whether you order them or not--and are soon followed by the main course. However, all of our small plates, our main bibimbap and soup, as well as our waters and teas were served with NASCAR speed and coordination. A whirlwind of waitresses descended on our table, and five or six arms reached out to set the table, which was fully stocked mere seconds later. They rushed to the next table without a second glance.
Small dishes aside (not my favorite usually), the food satisfied all cravings. Just healthy enough to leave no regrets of indulgence, the soup and hot stone pot were both warm and filling. We enjoyed a brothy seafood soup with red droplets of spice floating at the surface that looked more ominous than they tasted. The bibimbap did not have the same look--Julianne vegetables atop smoldering rice, with a sunny egg resting on the surface--to which I grew accustomed in China. However, the bulgolgi (beef) and special Korean red sauce mixed into the pot in the perfect fusion of spice and natural flavors. (Several different waitresses had asked in passing if we would like them to mix the bibimbap for us. We politely said we could stir on our own.)
While patrons quietly dined, servers speed-walked through the path of tables and chairs like young boys who are scolded not to run at an indoor swimming pool. After asking for a fried egg to garnish my bulgolgi bibimbap, our waitress yelped acknowledgement in such a distressed way that I nearly fell over laughing at the comedic absurdity.
Halfway through the meal, a young female waitress check bombed us. In a drive-by deposit, she informed us that the register was closing. When we finally did pull out our credit cards, another waitress snatched the black bill book and scurried away. She returned with the receipt and two small glasses of heavily sweetened ginger ice tea for dessert.
The whole experience was cartoonish and absurd, yet still delicious.
