The World in 202 Meals

One of my first encounters with Korean food was the sight of a wondrous, clattering walnut-cake machine steaming up the windows of a small bakery in Toronto’s Koreatown. As a child, I had a brief fascination with food machines, drawing up blueprints for all manner of Heath Robinson contraptions—so this walnut creature made a strong impression on me. Walking past at the right time of day, a display would ensue—jets of dough squirting into hot, cast-iron moulds, which clapped shut on their journey around a circuit. At the end emerged soft, perfectly-formed replica walnuts, pleasant to the bite if not as spectacular as their creation was to the eye.

After moving close to Koreatown I investigated the area’s restaurants more thoroughly, and was spoilt with a great variety of warming, hearty, home-cooked food. Nourishing, richly-seasoned soups, meats and stews—served with endless complimentary side dishes of rice, barley, kim-chi (vegetables pickled with chilli), fried fish, seaweed, beans and more. Korean became one of my favourite cuisines during the winter months, and something I began to crave after returning to London.

More recently, a little strip of unpretentious and inviting Korean cafes on St. Giles High Street (near Tottenham Court Road station) has tempted us greatly, and will definitely warrant a visit. For this outing, though, I felt like learning a little about the more sophisticated side of the country’s food. And so Andrea, Karol, Alex and I dropped in on Kaya, a highly recommended London Korean establishment in Mayfair, priding itself on its authenticity and offering dishes from Korean royal court cuisine.

Yukhoe (육회), one of these royal dishes, proved an interesting starter for the table. Tender, delicate shreds of raw beef are seasoned with sesame, soy and sugar crystals, and stirred up at the table with strands of Asian pear, cucumber and a raw egg. Despite some initial reservations about the raw meat, it was universally loved—combining soft, light textures with rich flavours and a delicate crunch. Korean pancakes were a recommended pairing, and proved thick and moreish, a great way to soak up the rich seasonings.

Of course we couldn’t say no to the obligatory kim-chi on the side. Korea boasts as many as 200 varieties, but we chose two classics—Chinese cabbage and daikon radish. I’ve always been a fan of the dish, but as presumptive newcomers we were warned, it can be quite pungent, with the vegetables salted and fermented for some time with chilli and other preservative seasonings. Some versions I’ve tried emerge soggy, gaseous and a little cloying from a jar, but theirs tasted homemade, crisp and full of pep. They use garlic, ginger and fish sauce, but I suspect less vinegar and sugar than some readymade versions, which may explain the difference.

While tempted by more exotic options, when it came to mains I couldn’t resist ordering their take on a popular dish, bulgogi. This is cooked from tender, thinly-sliced steak, and marinates for some time in a classic Korean mixture, containing an acidic fruit juice to tenderise the meat. Sometimes kiwi juice is used (which I can vouch for, having tried it at home), but in this instance it was pear. As an added bonus, I was shown how to eat it in what is apparently the classic style, which I hadn’t tried before—scooped up in a lettuce leaf with rice and seasoned strips of spring onion, plus a dollop of chilli sauce. Simpler versions of the dish incorporate chilli directly into the sauce and serve it with rice only, but this approach was most tasty.

Others at the table investigated another Korean classic, dolsot bibimbap—a hot stone pot filled with rice, topped with vegetables, beef, egg and other goodies, and stirred up at the table with a dark chilli sauce. (The Korean take on which, I find, has a particularly distinctive and tasty flavour. I wonder what distinguishes it?) This is great comfort food, and their version was eagerly devoured as soon as it cooled down.

All in all this was the best Korean I’ve found in London. While pricier than some, the service was impeccable, surroundings palatial, and the food pretty exceptional. Better, I would say, than Asadal in Holborn, which Time Out appears to prefer but underwhelmed me a little on a visit last year.

We’re craving more Korean already, which is just as well, since we can sneak in a visit to another establishment soon, under the guise of covering the communist North too. Kaya, named after an ancient southern kingdom and serving royal cuisine, we felt must ally itself with the South–but New Malden, south of the river, hosts the largest Korean community in Europe, and should be as good a place as any to find Northern dishes.

In summary

Kaya Korean Restaurant
42 Albermarle, London, W1S 4JH
020 7499 0622/0633
Open Monday to Saturday, noon-3pm and 6pm to 11pm