Since opening in 2019 in Japantown, Daeho Kalbijjim (opens in new tab) has regularly drawn hourslong waits for its signature dish: a humongous platter of kalbijjim, braised short ribs and vegetables draped in cheese, then flambéd tableside. But the legendary beef stew specialist is no longer the only game in town for enormous servings of Korean comfort food. A restaurant in the Richmond, opened by a former Daeho chef, is serving a dish that’s even more decadent — and slightly cheaper, too.
At 5-month-old Hwa Mi Won (opens in new tab) on Geary Boulevard, a heaping, $87 platter of kkori anchors the menu. It’s a mountain of sizzling short ribs, oxtail, rice cakes, carrots, onions, and potatoes in a gochujang sauce, hoisted onto the table and seared with not one but two butane torches so the top layer of shredded jack cheese browns and melts into the meat. Two rib bones poke up from either side, a carnivorous touch that makes the whole thing look like a helmet worn by a Norse god in some Wagnerian opera.
It’s the standout on a tightly composed and decidedly meaty menu. The kkori comes with half a dozen bowls of banchan and a choice of white or purple rice; glass noodles are $5 extra. Diners essentially take on the whole cauldron, chunky oxtail and all, armed with only chopsticks and spoons — once it has a few moments to cool off, that is.
Hwa Mi Won’s kkori, a variation on galbi-jjim, is an $87 showstopper. | Astrid Kane/The Standard
Elsewhere under the kalbijjim (“galbi-jjim” on Hwa Mi Won’s menu) category are two alternatives, one with short ribs that swaps beef tendon for the oxtail and one of short ribs alone. For each, amazingly, there is a $10 option to pile on yet more meat. Hwa Mi Won also offers seoulleong-tang (milky-white ox-bone soups) and galbi-tang (heartier short-rib soups), plus a handful of varieties of bibimbap.
San Francisco’s Korean food scene may be on the up and up, but it suffers from a lingering inferiority complex (opens in new tab)in relation to the South Bay — which, in turn, contrasts unfavorably to that of Southern California. Hwa Mi Won — whose lofty name refers to the idea of “flavors perfected in fire and crafted with care” — isn’t trying to upend the consensus. It’s meant simply to gratify. No region of Korea is highlighted, no particular culinary strand is teased out, and you won’t find delicate lettuce wraps with bowls of ssamjang. This is just hefty comfort food done well and offered in borderline-spectacular quantities.
“We are just cooking things that are popular in Korea,” co-owner Ji Choi says. “Things like ox-bone soup that people eat whenever it’s cold. Party food for holidays or family gatherings.”
Although solo diners will do well, Hwa Mi Won is meant for large groups.
Chanwon Park and Ji Hye Choi are Hwa Mi Won’s owners.
Much of the menu resembles the offerings at Daeho, a Japantown restaurant where Park worked.
Despite the ample selection of shareable dishes, it’s feasible to dine solo at Hwa Mi Won on a crackling, cast-iron bowl of veggies, rice, and a fried egg. But it’s far better to tackle the kkori with three or more friends over a big bottle of Terra, a low-ABV Korean lager whose crispness cuts through all the fat. You don’t have to finish everything; the staff will offer sturdy to-go boxes and seal any leftovers in plastic wrap.
From top to bottom, Hwa Mi Won’s menu is a stripped-down version of the one at Daeho Kalbijjim (which has grown into a mini-chain with four Bay Area locations). Both offer the same styles of soup, with similar accoutrements, and a limited selection of soju, the distilled rice drink. But when it comes to design, they’re hardly clones: Thanks to Choi’s background as a graphic designer, Hwa Mi Won’s bright, geometric interior, with frescoed murals and white oak, bears no resemblance to the darker, slightly cramped original Daeho location on Post Street.
In other words, it’s a bigger portion in a prettier space, at lower prices. Your move, Daeho.