NVM Review

By Warren Rojas

Call me sentimental, but I enjoy watching Korean matriarchs swigging Cass while their grandchildren huddle round the butane-fueled hearths at Annandale’s always buzzing Gooldaegee.

The straight-from-Seoul import—one manager says this is their first stateside store, but notes they’re already looking around Maryland for another potential location—attracts extended Asian families, gangs of chain-smoking young adults and adventurous Westerners looking to eat outside their comfort zone.

Once seated, upbeat servers attack your protein of choice with tongs and kitchen shears, parading each delicacy across the sizzling griddle/open flame/searing pan required to finish each dish.

Safety items like chicken and bul gogi seem to sate timid eaters, while native diners indulge in steaming bean curd “hangover soups” or seasoned beef tripe.

“That’s real pork belly,” one worldly American points out to her wide-eyed daughter as the fatty foodstuff flies by on a tray.

It’s real and it’s fantastic, the thick slabs of marinated swine shrinking down to zesty strips of hot sauced- and thoroughly grilled hog. Juicy pork ribs share the company of hot peppers, caramelized onions and roast garlic before being wrapped in crisp lettuce. Plain chicken is baptized in liquid fire and grilled to perfection alongside homemade kimchi.

By Warren Rojas

What say we update the philosophical conundrum about a tree falling in the woods for the NoVa dining set: If someone installs yet another Korean barbecue joint in the heart of Annandale, will anyone come?

Based on the overnight success of funkified newcomer Gooldaegee, the answer appears to be: Will they ever.

The subterranean shop has a roadhouse/urban-picnic feel to it—the place honestly reminds me of a Rocklands—thanks to all the shiny steel tables, unassuming stools and incomprehensible yet universally suggestive sake and beer posters (the restaurant carries a handful of select rice and plum wines as well as Korean beers, including Hite and Cass).

Colored aprons dangle within easy reach of most tables, providing an impromptu shield for those worried about wearing any grill splatter home. Plasma screens are typically locked on fiendishly difficult Asian game shows, while infectious K-pop (Korean pop music) dominates the airwaves.

The restaurant name loosely translates to “honey pig” or “pork,” a moniker that ties in directly with the cartoon pig logoed across the menu and the gotta-have staff T-shirts. According to one manager, the company started in Korea, and the Annandale location is their first insertion into the area. The manager added that their relaxed attitude and all-hours availability make this a magnet for Asian teens and gourmet night owls, estimating that curiosity-seekers would likely have a better shot at open tables and less harried servers prior to the midday rush.

Some servers seem to struggle a bit with the language when pressed for details about certain menu items, but most appear to be overwhelmingly friendly and terribly patient—if not overtly motherly.

One mature server initially attempted to shoo me away from a cold noodle dish, pantomiming that it was a traditional dish not really suited to western tastes (she kept saying something about it “sticking” and would make a clicking sound with her teeth). After some additional pleading (perhaps diehard food lovers should be issued a “No, I really do want that” badge for just such instances) she reluctantly agreed to bring the dish—and eventually smiled when she saw my group devour the spicy medley rather than tentatively picking around its edges. By the end of the meal, she was castigating us for not finishing everything on our collective plates.

Believe me, we tried.

Bibim bap reveals a savory mess of lettuce, shredded carrots, marinated steak, sprouts and fried egg bathed in an alluring chili sauce.

Grilled pork belly is fantastic, revealing belt buckle-sized strips of glistening pig that curls to a crisp right before your eyes while remaining charged with the zesty house marinade (a definite crowd-pleaser). Grilled chicken seems too mundane (spicy: yes; visually enticing: no), whereas hand-snipped bulgogi does not disappoint (juicy beef, charred to a crisp). Assorted banchan include pickled onions, raw garlic, crushed hot peppers and freshly washed lettuce leaves (for wrapping).

Unlike neighboring Korean establishments, Gooldaegee makes sure to give its kimchi a pass on the grill, adding a bit of unexpected sizzle to the marinated cabbage.