Can I share a secret with you?
I've always hated the phrase 'Good things come to those who wait.' Maybe it's because the gene for impatience was seared into my DNA upon birth. Even as I've spent my whole adult life fighting the urge to act as rashly as I'd like, my natural speed has always been fast and gimme now.
But I'd like to think things are looking up. Because after nearly two years of patiently (at least James was) searching for solid, authentic Korean food in Atlanta, we finally made our way to Yet Tuh.
Yet Tuh sits along Buford Highway, the main stretch of road that houses an impressive stretch of authentic international restaurants, including - hallelujah - Korean food. Roughly translated, Yet Tuh means 'What used to be'. I didn't ask our matronly smile-bearing server about the name, but I wondered if the food-laden bowls and plates she brought to our table reminded her of homes, meals, and childhood memories that used to be.
Speaking of plates, every Korean restaurant worth its salt will offer a set of banchan, or side dishes. Each joint has its own signature dishes, or unique takes on traditional ones, but there are always some dependable mainstays. Kimchi, or spicy fermented cabbage, is one of them, and Yet Tuh offers its patrons a particularly fiery batch.
For those unfamiliar to this traditional cuisine, think of these small side dishes as a low-stakes gateway to authentic Korean food. It's free of charge and sometimes placed on the table even before you order. For nostalgic hungryfolk like me, these small plates of fishcakes, seasoned bean sprouts, and sweet and salted soybeans are an automatic doorway to home.
The menu featured a bevy of familiar dishes, even packaging some into fun stew + Korean BBQ combos that seriously tantalized James' meat-loving appetite. Considering how much the separate platters cost as individual orders, the combo deals initially seemed a steal. But James quickly remembered all the times we've been burned by such combo meals at other Korean restaurants (read: tiny serving sizes), and we immediately turned our attention to the entrees.
James' standby order is yukgaejang. 'Jang' means stew, and most Korean restaurants will offer their stews in small, black earthenware pots. If the kitchen fires them up correctly, the stew within will continue to bubble deliciously with retained heat as your spoon makes repeat dives into its savory depths.
Yukgaejang is a spicy meatstew, featuring soft strands of brisket, glass noodles, and chopped vegetables.
Side note: if you suffer from nose drippage from KFC's spicy chicken, this dish isn't for you. That deep red color packs quite a punch, and James tested the absorbency rate of three napkins before reaching the bottom of this bowl.
But if you love the heat (or if you need your sinus passages cleared), this, along with a bowl of rice, might be the most effective antidote for your ills.
I labored over the menu with my own order, but neither of us were surprised when I eventually landed on janchi guksu. 'Guksu' means noodles, and this particular dish features somen, or thin wheat noodles, which most closely resemble angel hair pasta.
I know this looks like a homely bowl of noodles, but it never fails to remind me of my Umma. I'm always reluctant to describe this luscious broth as anchovy-based because I imagine people's noses wrinkle as they imagine tiny fish with beady little eyes messing up their perfectly good pizza order. Instead, I'd much rather think of this as Korea's pescatarian answer to Vietnamese pho. It's a clean, soothing broth whose umami notes nod ever so subtly to the sea.
In the midst of our happy chewing and slurping, our enthusiastic server-auntie dropped by our table to deliver the clear star of the show - the seafood pancake.
Say what you will about American pancakes, but I'm a far greater fan of Korean savory pancakes, which are usually brought to the table plated in the very skillet used to prepare them. As a materials scientist, I might praise the heat retention of these cast iron plates; as a hungry eater, I can only whimper at the memory of intoxicating sizzles and aromas from a crispy pancake that just kept getting crispier...if you could stand to let it sit that long.
Along with a verdant assortment of julienned vegetables, there is a truly staggering array of chopped seafood. In the past, I've met plenty of pajeon with a gentle smattering of squid here and there and I liked them just fine, but Yet Tuh's kitchen generously crams the batter with baby squid, octopus, and baby shrimp, so much that they tumble out as you head in, teeth first. Seafood lovers out there, this one's for you.
(click for menu)
3042 Oakcliff Rd
Doraville, GA 30340
Note: Link leads to a different version of the menu than the one we were offered. Call ahead for availability of specific items
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