Instant Soupy Tteokbokki for £1.80 — 3am Snack Review

Ever found yourself absolutely gagging for tteokbokki at three in the morning? Happens to me more often than I'd care to admit. The trouble is, nothing's open at that hour. The delivery apps are a wasteland — every street food shop's shut up for the night — and convenience store tteokbokki is always a bit naff, so it never really tempts me.

These days, a portion of tteokbokki from a proper street food shop runs anywhere from about £2.70 to £3.60. Fair enough, really — you get fish cake and boiled egg thrown in, and it's freshly made, so it's worth the money. But that's only useful if the shop's actually open at 3am, isn't it? So when the late-night craving hits, I inevitably end up reaching for one of those instant tteokbokki packets from the chilled aisle at the supermarket.

Why I Picked Up Daerimseon Soupy Tteokbokki

A few days ago, my wife and I popped into a wholesale food mart in Sintanjin (a district in Daejeon, a city in central South Korea) for a shop, and I grabbed a packet of Daerimseon "Those Were the Days" Soupy Tteokbokki. It was April but the evening air still had a proper nip to it — exactly the sort of weather that makes you crave something spicy and warming.

The regular price is around £2.40, but I got it on offer for £1.80. At that price, I figured even if it turned out to be rubbish, I wouldn't lose any sleep over it. Expectations firmly lowered, I chucked it in the trolley. As it happens, once I'd actually cooked and eaten it, I had rather a lot to say.

First Impressions of the Packaging

The bright red packaging certainly catches your eye. There's a photo of tteokbokki on the front that looks rather appetising, though I noticed the tiny disclaimer reading "styled image" tucked away in the corner — so naturally I assumed the real thing would look nothing like it. Then again, when you're standing in front of the chilled section at 3am, pretty much anything looks appealing.

It says two servings on the packet, which was mildly embarrassing given I'd bought it entirely for myself.

Side Panel Cooking Instructions — Done in 10 Minutes

The cooking instructions are printed on the side panel with little diagrams, and as you'd expect from an instant product, there's nothing complicated about it. Rinse the rice cakes under water, put water and sauce in a pan, bring it to the boil, add the rice cakes, and simmer for another four minutes. Job done. Including the rinsing, it's about 10 minutes from start to finish for a full bowl.

It does suggest you can add vegetables, fish cake, or boiled eggs if you like, but honestly — who's prepping all that at three in the morning? I was always going to just cook what came in the packet and nothing more.

What's Inside the Packet

Once I tore it open, I found the rice cakes sitting in a clear plastic tray. The label on them reads "bite-sized rice tteokbokki cakes" — short, stubby little pieces all neatly cut. The tray itself is shaped so you could use it as a makeshift bowl, which was a quietly welcome discovery when you really can't be bothered with washing up at that hour. The sauce sachet and topping packet were nestled on top of the rice cakes.

Bite-Sized Rice Tteokbokki Cakes

I took the rice cakes out for a closer look. They're labelled as a chilled product, and the use-by date had roughly a year left on it — plenty of time to keep a packet stashed in the fridge for emergencies. The cakes themselves are white, cut short, and true to the name, each one's just the right size to pop straight in your mouth.

The "Secret Sauce" and Topping Packet

Laying the sauce and topping packets side by side, the difference in size gave me a bit of a laugh. The sauce feels satisfyingly heavy, whereas the topping packet is so thin you'd wonder whether there's actually anything in it at all.

The back of the topping packet says it's a processed fruit and vegetable product — probably just bits of dried spring onion, if I'm being honest. The sauce sachet, meanwhile, has "Secret Sauce" stamped on it like some sort of official seal. Grand name aside, it's essentially a gochujang-based sweet and spicy tteokbokki sauce. Standing alone in the kitchen at 3am reading that, I couldn't help but smirk.

No Microwave Option, Then

The back panel has cooking instructions too, but they're identical to what's on the side. Here's the thing — seeing a plastic tray inside, I'd fully assumed this was a microwave job. But no matter how hard I looked, there wasn't a single mention of microwave cooking anywhere on the packet.

The whole point of buying instant food at 3am is to avoid getting a saucepan out and turning on the hob, so this was a genuine disappointment. Nothing for it, though — I followed the instructions as written.

The Actual Cooking Process

Once I tipped the rice cakes into a sieve, the quantity looked fairly generous. Two servings, they said — it certainly looked like a lot for one person. I gave them a quick rinse under the tap as instructed; just a few seconds under running water does the trick. The cakes had stuck together a bit in the packet, but they separated easily as soon as the water hit them.

The 350ml Water Trap

I put the rinsed rice cakes in a saucepan and added the water. The instructions say 350ml, but it's not as though I was using a measuring jug at that hour — I just eyeballed it, and I'm fairly sure I overdid it. Looking back, I reckon I poured in closer to 400ml. It would've been handy if the tray had a "fill to here" line marked on it, but no such luck.

I tore open the topping packet and shook it in — bits of dried spring onion and little yellow flakes fluttered down. Felt exactly like adding the seasoning to a pot noodle, to be honest. I wouldn't exactly call it "toppings" with a straight face given the quantity, but it's better than nothing, I suppose.

When the Sauce Dissolves and It Starts to Bubble

I squeezed the sauce on top — it's gochujang-based so it comes out fairly thick. The blob of red sauce sitting on top of the white rice cakes and spring onion bits looked rather photogenic, so I snapped a picture before stirring.

One good stir and the broth started turning red, though the colour wasn't quite even — some patches were much darker where the sauce hadn't fully dissolved yet, whilst other bits were still pale. Probably just because the water hadn't come to the boil yet. Even at this stage, though, the smell was already wafting up nicely.

Once it hit a proper boil, the whole thing came together. That patchy colour from before evened out into a uniform, appetising red, and the rice cakes were bobbing about in the broth whilst a properly spicy aroma filled the kitchen. This was the point where my expectations started to climb. It obviously didn't look like the styled photo on the packet, but I thought — actually, this isn't half bad.

Honest Taste Verdict

I ladled it into a bowl, and even for something called "soupy tteokbokki," this was seriously soupy. The rice cakes were completely submerged — it looked less like tteokbokki and more like "rice cakes floating in soup." That's where eyeballing the water earlier came back to bite me.

Honestly, the flavour wasn't bad at all. It had that sweet-spicy kick you'd expect, but with all that extra broth, the sauce was too diluted and the punchiness just wasn't there. You could catch a hint of heat on the tip of your tongue, but the finish was watery and flat.

Up close, the broth is actually a rather lovely shade of red. The rice cakes have taken on a bit of colour from the sauce, and you can see those spring onion flakes scattered about on the surface. But zooming in like this only made it more obvious just how much liquid there was compared to everything else.

I picked one up with chopsticks and it was nicely chewy — properly cooked through. You could see fine chilli flakes clinging to the surface of the rice cake. The texture of the rice cakes themselves was satisfyingly springy and perfectly decent, but again, the diluted broth meant the flavour hadn't really soaked into them. The rice cakes on their own were good; I just kept kicking myself about the extra water.

Final Verdict on Daerimseon Soupy Tteokbokki

Daerimseon "Those Were the Days" Soupy Tteokbokki is a perfectly respectable instant tteokbokki for £1.80. The rice cakes are pleasantly chewy and the sauce delivers a proper sweet-spicy flavour. Just don't overdo the water like I did, and you'll be fine.

If I had to pick faults, there are two. First, there are absolutely no extras like fish cake or boiled egg. It's just rice cakes and broth, which feels a bit bare on its own. Hard to expect much at £1.80, admittedly, but if you've got some fish cake knocking about in the fridge, I'd definitely recommend throwing it in. Second, there's no microwave cooking option. The whole reason you buy instant food at silly o'clock is to avoid getting a pan out, so the fact that it comes with a tray yet can't go in the microwave is a touch ironic.

Next time, I'm planning to use less water and chuck in some fish cake — I reckon that would make a decent difference. As a supermarket tteokbokki to keep in the fridge for those nights when you fancy something spicy, it does the job nicely. Being able to cook it whenever the craving strikes, regardless of the hour, is ultimately the entire point of instant tteokbokki — and on that front, it delivers.

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