In Seoul, permanence is elusive. The city reinvents itself with a restless energy that makes each visit feel like a first encounter. Viral trends come and go. Culinary hotspots emerge and vanish. Even longtime residents find themselves pausing at street corners, momentarily disoriented by how completely their familiar haunts have transformed in a short span of months. Seoul's thirst for the next big thing is evident in neighborhoods like Seongsu-dong, often seen as a global epicenter for pop-ups, where new fashion and design concepts emerge year-round. Seoul’s food scene mirrors this constant evolution. Trends flash by, like tanghulu – glazed fruit on a stick that seemed to pop up everywhere overnight – or espresso bars, which briefly captured the city’s coffee obsession before fading from view.

North and South Korea may be separated by a heavily fortified border, but there’s a culinary link that defies that separation. In fact, there are many types of North Korean foods that are popular in South Korea, and dumplings are one of them. Korean dumplings share a similar shape with Chinese jiaozi and baozi, as well as Japanese gyoza, and are all referred to as mandu in Korea. Due to the colder climate, rice cultivation is less viable in North Korea, leading to a greater reliance on flour- and buckwheat-based dishes. Mandu, made from wheat flour dough, is a staple food in the north, typically larger, more rustic, and filled with a generous mixture of tofu and mung bean sprouts. Compared to South Korean mandu, North Korean-style dumplings are known for being milder and more comforting.

Located in Seoul’s upscale Gangnam district, Hansung Kalguksu has offered the exact same menu for the last 42 years. But there’s nothing stale about this unsuspecting second-story restaurant. In fact, its consistency makes it stand out in Seoul’s burgeoning food scene, continuing to attract crowds of customers, even on weekdays. Known for its kalguksu – a humble yet beloved noodle dish – the restaurant also serves a wide variety of festive dishes, staying true to its roots in traditional Korean cuisine.

The morning after a festive night brings familiar symptoms: a throbbing headache, heartburn, perhaps an upset stomach. As people reach for something to soothe their hangover, they take part in a shared experience that transcends borders and cultures, uniting humanity in the eternal quest for the perfect hangover remedy. Korea has its own iconic day-after-drinking cure: haejangguk, which literally translates to “hangover soup.” It’s a hot, hearty soup filled with meat and vegetables, served with rice. Korean drinkers often joke that the salty, steaming broth pairs perfectly with a shot of soju, leading to the familiar scene of someone drinking soju alongside haejangguk to cure their hangover – only to end up drinking more.

At Gulgune, a barbecue restaurant in Itaewon, the meat arrives on double-prong skewers, par-cooked over charcoal until just done. A server deftly slides each long strip of samgyeopsal – pork belly – onto a tilted grill pan set over a gas burner, the drippings falling into a vessel below. As the meat browns to golden, a trio of accompaniments sizzles at the pan's bottom: blanched bean sprouts, chopped ripe kimchi, and curls of green onions tossed in a sweet, spicy, and vinegary dressing. Cooked in the rendered fat, they cut perfectly through the meat's richness. For Koreans, samgyeopsal isn’t just a meal – it’s the heart of countless gatherings. The question “고기 먹을까?” (“Shall we go for some barbecue?”) almost always means pork belly is on the menu.

In the heart of Seoul's Central Business District, a short stroll from the Jonggak and Anguk subway stations, Baekbujangjip has quietly built a reputation for serving one of Korea's most unassuming yet comforting dishes: dakhanmari. Chicken soup is a universal comfort food, found in countless forms around the world. In Korea, dakhanmari carries the same meaning of nourishment and a sense of home. Served in a communal pot, dakhanmari is more than just food – it’s a soothing ritual for workers and passersby seeking a brief escape from the city’s relentless pace.

Seoul, a city that thrives on reinvention, is a masterclass in culinary adaptation. It bombards the senses the moment you arrive – vibrant neon signs, a crescendo of street sounds, and enticing aromas wafting up from countless food stalls. This is a city where tradition and modernity collide, where ancient culinary techniques are reimagined for a new generation, and where global influences are seamlessly integrated into something indistinguishably local. On this day-into-evening culinary walk, we taste our way through the backstreets of Seoul’s bustling Dongdaemun and Jongno neighborhoods. From Chinese dumplings to trendy baked goods, we explore how this capital city has taken inspiration from around the world. We'll encounter the spirit of sharing and tradition, evident in the communal pots of dakhanmari and the generous platters of bossam.

Some foods are just made for certain weather: hot chocolate or creamy stew feel like a warm blanket on a cold winter day, while cold watermelon and shaved ice are perfect under the summer sun. Just as the sight of a campfire calls to mind well-roasted marshmallows, changing seasons and gentle breeze evoke cravings for familiar comforts. For Koreans, only one dish will do on a cloudy, damp rainy day: crispy, savory jeon. Jeon, a traditional Korean dish, is a type of fritter made by coating ingredients like fish, meat, and vegetables in flour and egg before frying them, or by finely chopping the ingredients, mixing them into a batter, and frying them. Popular varieties include kimchi-jeon and pa-jeon (green onion jeon), but nearly anything – mushrooms, shrimp, beef liver, or stuffed green peppers – can be transformed into jeon.

Culinary Backstreets co-founder Ansel Mullins visited Seoul this past summer as part of a research trip for our newest food tours. What he encountered was a literal feast for the senses, from the tang of pickled banchan to the smoky barbecue grills to the crunch of raw crab, Here, Ansel shares some of his favorite food memories and a bit of what we can expect from our new coverage in Seoul. What makes Seoul an exciting and compelling destination for Culinary Backstreets? The sheer variety of dining opportunities in Seoul make it a paradise for curious eaters. Consider Michelin-starred speakeasy-type ten-seaters to rowdy tent bars serving fried eels, market stalls serving world-famous savory pancakes to the latest fad in donuts, throw in barbecue, dumpling joints, an abundance of fresh oysters, and knock-your-socks-off fried chicken and you’re barely scratching the surface of this venerable chow town.