18 Side Dishes with One Bowl of Rice — A Korean Feast

I Wanted to Treat My Wife to a Proper Spread

My wife works incredibly hard, and I'd been meaning to take her out for a really good meal for ages. I'd spotted a barley rice restaurant on a YouTube Short — one of those clips where the table is absolutely heaving with dishes — and that was it, my mind was made up. She's never been keen on pricey dinners out, so I kept putting it off, but this time I just went ahead and paid for the lot myself. In April 2026, we visited 1972 Song Eunjeong Boribap, the original branch in Jochiwon, Sejong City — a smaller city in central South Korea, roughly an hour south of Seoul.

We arrived in the evening and the building was bigger than I'd expected. I'd pictured a modest little local place, so the sheer size of it caught me off guard. There's a large photo of barley rice on the exterior wall, and the lighting is surprisingly well done — far more modern-looking than your typical traditional Korean restaurant. That said, the car park is a bit tight for the size of the place, so if you turn up during the evening rush, you might need to circle round a few times to find a spot.

Wide Tables — and There's a Reason for That

Once inside, we sat down and I noticed the tables were unusually wide. It was a four-person table and with just the two of us, there was loads of room. I didn't understand why the tables needed to be quite so generous until the side dishes arrived — then it made perfect sense. There was a tablet for ordering on one side, and bottles of sesame oil and perilla oil were already set out.

Tablet Ordering — Handy, but No Translation

You order from a tablet at each table. A few taps and you're done — dead simple. The catch, though, is that while there's technically an English option on the menu, nothing's actually been translated. If you don't read Korean, you'd struggle. So I've put together a translated menu below.

Korean Barley Rice Set Meals — This Is What Comes with One Bowl

Eating a meal in Korea isn't just about the rice. The rice sits at the centre, and then around it the table fills up with seasoned vegetables, stews, grilled dishes, braised bites, and pickles — that's the essence of Korean banchan culture, and it's the beating heart of a proper Korean set meal. Barley rice, or boribap, is rice cooked with barley mixed in. It's chewier and more textured than plain white rice, with a pleasant nuttiness, and Koreans have been eating it as a wholesome grain dish for generations. At specialist barley rice restaurants, the standard way to eat is to pile seasoned vegetables on top and mix it all together — which is precisely why so many side dishes come out. I live in Korea and I've reviewed a fair few budget set meals on my blog, typically in the £4.50–£5.60 range per head. This barley rice spread, though, was essentially the upgraded full-course version of those everyday lunches.

We tapped our order on the tablet and within thirty seconds the side dishes arrived. Two brass trays, absolutely loaded, landed on the table in one go — my wife hadn't even put her phone down yet. The speed was genuinely startling.

Once we unpacked the trays, the table was covered. That's why the tables are so wide — now it all made sense. My wife looked at the spread and said, "Is all of this really for us?" She was properly chuffed. It was her first time seeing side dishes laid out this lavishly at a Korean restaurant, and her eyes went wide.

Two Brass Trays — Banchan and Vegetables Served Separately

This tray was the banchan side — the more savoury, punchy little dishes. There were soy-braised quail eggs, lotus root salad, spicy shredded radish, seasoned dried pollock, candied nuts, and macaroni salad, each in its own little brass bowl. These are the kinds of bites that get your appetite going — salty, sweet, and moreish. Young radish kimchi was on this tray too.

The other tray was all seasoned vegetables — namul. Bean sprouts, bracken fern, dried aubergine, gondre (a wild mountain herb), courgette, and oyster mushrooms, all neatly arranged. These are the ones you're meant to pile onto your barley rice and mix together. Having the banchan and namul on separate trays keeps things tidy, and honestly, there's a real pleasure in deciding which one to reach for first.

The Side Dishes, One by One — The Standouts

This place has a reputation for its banchan, and it absolutely lived up to it — loads of variety, and each dish properly tasty. Going through every single one would take an age, so I'll focus on the ones that really stood out.

Bracken fern (gosari). In Korea, dried bracken is soaked, rehydrated, and then stir-fried in a soy and sesame oil dressing — it's practically a non-negotiable at any barley rice restaurant. The first bite feels a touch chewy, almost tough, but after a couple more chews it softens beautifully, and that's when the salty, nutty flavour of the soy and sesame comes through. I liked it so much I went back to the self-service bar for a second helping.

Dried aubergine (geon-gaji). This isn't fresh aubergine — it's been dried, rehydrated, and then stir-fried in seasoning. The texture is completely different from fresh: springy, almost meaty in how it chews, with a deep soy flavour soaked right through. Mix it into your rice and it absolutely holds its own.

Stir-fried oyster mushrooms. Torn into thin strips and cooked in sesame oil — not at all slimy, just pleasantly chewy. The seasoning was delicate, which meant it worked brilliantly alongside the bolder dishes, balancing out the whole spread.

The Rest of the Vegetables, Briefly

Siraegi (dried radish leaves). Stir-fried stems with a strong, grassy aroma and a generous hit of sesame oil.

Taro stems (toran-dae). These have tiny air pockets inside the stalk, giving them an unusual, almost spongy softness. The seasoning seeps into all those little gaps, so when you take a bite, the flavour spreads out in this lovely, moist way.

Bean sprout namul. Very lightly seasoned — almost plain on its own, but it really comes alive once you mix it into the barley rice.

Stir-fried courgette. Just barely cooked, so it kept a nice crunch. Clean-tasting and not a trace of greasiness.

Gondre (or chwi-namul — a wild mountain herb). I wasn't entirely sure which one it was, but it had a gentle, slightly bitter edge that married beautifully with perilla oil and barley rice.

Beyond the Vegetables

Japchae. Glass noodles stir-fried in soy sauce with mixed veg and a scattering of sesame seeds. My wife was absolutely besotted with this one — she went back to the self-service bar twice for more. I think it was the chewy, slightly sweet quality that did her in completely.

Candied nuts. Almonds, peanuts, and pumpkin seeds glazed in jocheong (Korean grain syrup) — a sweet, snacky little side dish. Pop one of these after a mouthful of savoury namul and it completely resets your palate.

Courgette pancake (hobak-jeon). Thin slices of courgette dipped in egg batter and pan-fried — crispy on the outside, soft and moist within.

Seasoned dried pollock (hwangtae). Dressed in a gochujang-based sauce — sweet, savoury, and a bit sticky. The kind of thing that had me reaching for it with every other spoonful of rice.

Macaroni salad. A bit of a curveball among all the namul, but that's exactly what makes it work — it breaks things up and adds a fun change of pace. If you'd got kids with you, I reckon this is the one they'd go for first.

Young radish kimchi (yeolmu). Young radish stems pickled in chilli seasoning — it's got a good amount of liquid, so it tastes cool and refreshing. Mix it into your barley rice and the spicy, tangy flavour really comes to life.

Soy-braised quail eggs. Simmered in soy sauce until they're salty with just a hint of sweetness — perfect one-bite morsels. Surrounded by all that veg, a little hit of protein kept drawing my chopsticks back.

Lotus root salad. Dressed in a sesame-based sauce — crunchy with a creamy coating that's completely different in character from the namul. The cross-section with its little holes is quite something to look at, too.

Spicy shredded radish (musaengchae). Finely julienned radish tossed in chilli flakes — crunchy, spicy, and bracingly fresh. It cuts right through anything rich, and when you fold it into your barley rice mix, the whole bowl livens up.

Overall, the side dishes weren't aggressive in flavour. Not too salty, not too bland — right in the middle. Honestly, if you're after big, punchy flavours, it might come across as a bit mild, but from a health perspective, I'd say that's actually a good thing. Salty doesn't automatically mean delicious, does it.

The Mains Arrive — Barley Rice and Cheonggukjang Stew

We'd been picking away at the side dishes for about ten minutes when the mains appeared. Barley rice in a brass bowl, and beside it a stone pot of cheonggukjang stew, still bubbling furiously. Once these hit the table, the spread finally felt complete. We'd ordered the cheonggukjang barley rice set — let me quickly explain what that actually is.

Here's the cheonggukjang. When it's bubbling away in the stone pot, you get that fermented soybean smell rising up — and I'm very much in the camp that loves it.

In the broth you could see the soybeans breaking apart, along with chunks of tofu, courgette, and chillies. This restaurant's cheonggukjang was on the milder side — aromatic rather than nose-stingingly intense. My wife polished off every last drop of the broth, and I ended up tipping more than half my rice straight into the stew.

The Self-Service Bar — Refill Without Asking

This is the self-service corner. If you run out of any side dish, you just grab a plate and help yourself — no need to flag down staff or feel awkward about asking. It's completely free-for-all, and I loved how relaxed it was.

At the far end of the bar there was a big warmer full of japchae and a rice cooker. If you need more rice, you can help yourself from here — and I did, going back for a second bowl. I'll be honest, though: the rice from the self-service cooker was a touch stodgier than what came with our original set. Perfectly edible, but not quite as good as the freshly served stuff. Worth noting — there's a sign saying "A surcharge of £1.70 will be added for food waste", so only take what you'll actually eat.

Grilled Mackerel Add-On — One Whole Fish for £5.60

The banchan alone was more than enough food, but something felt missing, so we added a grilled mackerel. Mackerel is a staple in Korean home cooking, but having it served whole like this is more of a restaurant affair. The skin had been grilled until properly crispy, while the flesh inside stayed moist and tender — a gentle press with chopsticks and it flaked right off the bone. No excessive salt, just the natural savouriness of the fish shining through.

The Finished Spread — £22.50 for Two

This is the finished spread we had between us. Barley rice, cheonggukjang stew, grilled mackerel, well over a dozen side dishes, plus japchae and courgette pancake. Compared to the budget set meals I've reviewed on my blog before — typically around £4.50–£5.60 a head — this felt like the same genre but an entirely different league. Two cheonggukjang barley rice sets at £8.50 each, plus one grilled mackerel at £5.60, came to £22.50 in total (roughly ₩40,000). It's not cheap, I'll grant you that. But when you see this spread in front of you, it makes sense. The sheer number of side dishes, unlimited refills from the self-service bar, and a whole mackerel on top — it was a genuinely solid meal for the money.

How to Eat Barley Rice Bibimbap — The Proper Way

Here's the barley rice up close. You can see the barley grains dotted among the white rice. It's coarser than plain white rice, with a distinct pop as you chew. My wife said the slightly al dente texture was unusual but really appealing — she normally prefers sticky, soft rice, but this had its own charm entirely. She kept saying how tasty Korean barley rice was, and that she'd never come across a texture quite like it.

You pile your namul — shredded radish, dried aubergine, whatever takes your fancy — onto the barley rice, add a dollop of gochujang (red chilli paste) and a good glug of sesame oil, then give it all a proper mix. That's how it's done at barley rice restaurants in Korea. You can eat everything separately if you prefer, but when you mix it, every spoonful delivers a different combination of textures — crunchy, chewy, spicy — all at once. Each mouthful tastes slightly different from the last. The trick is to be generous with the perilla oil — it coats everything, binds it together, and brings out a gorgeous nuttiness.

A Flake of Mackerel, a Pinch of Namul

I picked up a piece of mackerel with my chopsticks. You can see the skin side is beautifully charred and crispy, while the inside is still moist and tender. Alternate between a spoonful of the mixed barley rice and a bite of mackerel, and the savoury nuttiness of the namul meets the rich, oily umami of the fish. Your mouth just feels completely full of flavour.

Lift the namul with chopsticks and you can see the perilla oil catching the light. The flavour is noticeably different when you eat the vegetables on their own versus piled on top of rice. My wife reckoned bracken and gondre were the best toppings; I preferred the spicy shredded radish with my barley rice. That's the beauty of bibimbap, though, isn't it — there's no right answer, you just build it however you like.

Korean Barley Rice Set Meal — My Honest Verdict

A barley rice spread in Korea isn't just a meal — it's an event. Every single side dish has a role to play, and depending on how you combine and mix them, each spoonful tastes different. What struck me most, eating this with my wife, is that Korea's table-setting culture is genuinely remarkable when you see it from the outside. You order one bowl of rice and suddenly a dozen-odd side dishes cover the table; finish them and you can go back for more; then you mix it all up your own way to create something personal. My wife kept saying how delicious the barley rice was and how unique the texture felt — and she's right that this kind of dining experience would be very hard to come by outside Korea.

At around £11 per person it's not exactly bargain-basement, but for what you get, the value is genuinely fair. If I had to pick faults: the overall seasoning leans mild, so if you're after bold, punchy flavours you might find it a touch underwhelming; the car park is a bit small for the size of the restaurant; and the self-service rice isn't quite as good as the freshly served stuff. That said, if you've been wanting to treat someone who works hard to a proper, generous spread — this meal was absolutely worth it.