Seoksanjang 석산장

Pork ribs go onto a Genghis Khan-style charcoal grill, domed in the middle with a moat of soy broth around the rim; once cooked, the meat is dunked and simmered in that broth. The marinade is light and the first few pieces taste almost plain, but as the broth, scented with cinnamon and black pepper, reduces over the coals, it grows saltier and the same meat turns deeper and darker. Piling on the garlic, scallion and ssamjang that come as standard buries that gentle flavor, which is a waste. The last pieces, sticky from the reduced broth, go on top of a bowl of mul-naengmyeon. Diners sit on the linoleum floor of a building over 40 years old, and in summer every door stays open, leaving the room hot even with the air conditioning running.