Okjeong: A Culinary Haven for Pyongyang-Style Kimchi Dumpling Soup

In the bustling neighborhood near Sogang University in Seoul, Okjeong—a modest yet revered eatery—has garnered a loyal following for its exquisite Pyongyang-style kimchi manduguk. This heartwarming kimchi dumpling soup, served in a velvety ox bone broth and generously topped with seaweed flakes and sesame seeds, draws eager diners who form lines well before its doors open.

The Humble Roots of Andong Cuisine

Growing up in Andong, North Gyeongsang Province, offered me a unique perspective on Korean food. Andong was a remote and rural area during my childhood. Back then, electricity had only just arrived, dirt roads were being transformed into paved ones, and local travel spanned hours by bus or train. The modernization process seemed both fascinating and unfamiliar, a mix of progress and nostalgia.

Andong’s geographical and cultural isolation left a lasting impact on its cuisine, resulting in distinctive local variations. For instance, Andong-style sikhye—a fermented rice drink—features unconventional ingredients like chili powder, ginger, and radish. This gave it a spicy, refreshing edge compared to the sweeter, more widespread version known as gamju, which I loved in childhood. Over the years, my tastes shifted, and I grew to appreciate the bold flavors of Andong’s rendition—a testament to the deep connection between regional cuisine and one’s identity.

A Childhood Longing for Seoul’s Tteok-Mandu-Guk

My relocation to Seoul for elementary school introduced me to pleasures that were previously unimaginable—electricity, candy, soda, and a culinary discovery that left a deep impression: tteok-mandu-guk, or rice cake and dumpling soup. In Andong, our Lunar New Year meals reflected the deep Confucian traditions of the “land of the yangban.” Instead of tteokguk, we prepared beef radish soup and tang-guk, which combines beef, seaweed, and shark meat. Shark meat, customary for ancestral rites, was an acquired taste I never quite developed.

Encountering the plump dumplings in tteok-mandu-guk during my early days in Seoul was a revelation. Their likeness to tiny fortune pouches, brimming with flavor, felt luxurious—a culinary treasure I craved for our Seollal feasts. However, given the extensive preparations that Lunar New Year meals already demanded of my mother—including regional staples like Andong sikhye and homemade makgeolli—this addition to the menu was unimaginable. Her efforts during the holidays, cooking for over 50 guests and sending them home with food parcels, only deepened my respect for her hospitality and fortitude as I grew older.

Unlike in Seoul, dumplings were absent from Andong’s cuisine. Wheat scarcity in the Gyeongsang region likely contributed to their rarity. As a result, my passion for mandu emerged from a sense of yearning, motivating me to seek out exceptional dumpling soups wherever I went, whether at establishments like Newman Du House in Apgujeong, Jinjin Manduguk in Yeouido, or Pyongyang-style restaurants like Pyeongyang Myeonok and Seobuk Myeonok.

Okjeong’s Unique Take on Kimchi Manduguk

Recently, a friend acquainted with my love for mandu recommended Okjeong, nestled near Sogang University. Known for its Pyongyang-style manduguk, Okjeong operates with a no-frills approach: weekday hours only (11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.), no takeout or delivery, and closures on weekends and holidays. The restaurant’s exclusivity adds to its charm, creating a local institution that thrives on word of mouth.

True to its reputation, the establishment has “Pyongyang-Style Manduguk” prominently signposted, and expectations were high upon my visit. Despite its unassuming location near a parking lot and flanked by apartment complexes, the restaurant already had a waiting line at opening time. After a short 10-minute wait, I was seated at a floor table, marveling at the steady stream of patrons walking in.

Our group of four ordered tteok-mandu-guk, and the first taste did not disappoint. The dumplings, small and tightly packed, featured a vibrant kimchi filling complemented by tofu. The chewy yet delicate wrappers struck the perfect balance—not too thick or thin—delivering a satisfying texture with every bite. The addition of seaweed flakes, sprinkled generously, drew out the dish’s umami richness.

Okjeong’s uniqueness lies in its kimchi-filled mandu, a rarity among Pyongyang-style noodle and dumpling soup establishments. The ox bone broth was hearty yet not overpowering, exuding the comforting depth reminiscent of homemade meals. For those seeking variety, the restaurant also offers kalguksu-manduguk, which features knife-cut noodles in the same rich broth.

The Art of Side Dishes and Culinary Wisdom

The side dishes at Okjeong were as noteworthy as the main course. The fresh kimchi delivered a balanced spice, while the cucumber-onion pickles provided a crisp, tangy contrast without excessive sweetness. These accompaniments showcased the importance of well-executed banchan in elevating Korean meals. It is no exaggeration to say that good kimchi complements half the battle in achieving culinary excellence.

Observing the finely crafted dumplings, I wondered about the origins of Okjeong’s recipes. The precision and care echoed the expertise of a grandmother’s kitchen, yet the restaurant appears to be run by a couple in their forties. Perhaps they are perpetuating a family legacy, but I found myself yearning to meet the matriarch behind these dishes. What inspired her choice of kimchi fillings, the preference for ox bone broth, and her generosity in seaweed toppings? Her family’s journey from the North and their stories of resettlement in Seoul could fill volumes akin to historical archives.

A Taste That Stirs Memory and Longing

Dining at Okjeong reminded me of the lingering connection between food and memory. Reflecting on traditions passed through generations, I thought of my late mother and her own culinary skills. Her Andong sikhye, boldly flavored with ginger and chili, remains an unattainable delicacy for me in Seoul. It’s a cherished memory that fuels my appreciation for places like Okjeong, where heritage dishes are preserved with care and authenticity.

Okjeong bridges the past and present, offering not just a meal but a sensory journey that resonates deeply. The craft, hospitality, and flavors on display serve as poignant reminders of the cultural ties that bind us and the stories food shares about who we are.

Okjeong
Address: 106 Sinsu-ro, Mapo-gu, Seoul (350 meters from Sogang Univ. Station, Gyeongui–Jungang Line, Exit 1)
Menu: Manduguk (13,000 won), Tteok-manduguk (11,000 won), Kalguksu-manduguk (11,000 won)

Eunjung Kwon is a seasoned journalist and culinary expert, having studied at the Italian Culinary Institute for Foreigners (ICIF) in Piedmont, Italy. She has contributed food and wine columns to reputable publications and is the author of “Wine with Tuna Mayo” and “Discovering Italy Through Pasta.”