Finding German Flavors in Seoul — Five German Restaurants to Try in Seoul
Finding German Flavors in Seoul — Five German Restaurants to Try in Seoul
From riesling wine to sausages, join design studio Pikant on a journey through Seoul in search of German flavors.
Words & Illustrations *Pikant
* A design studio led by designers Song Minseon and Choi Jungwon. After completing their studies in Berlin and Hamburg, Germany, they are now based in Seoul. They work on a wide range of projects, from print and animation to motion graphics and branding, and publish a four-panel comic about everyday life through would_it_be_okay. Pikant is a German adjective meaning ‘spicy and tangy.’
Germany isn’t exactly known for its cuisine. While studying for a German language exam, I met classmates at the language school, many from countries famous for their food—Italy, China, Spain. Whenever I asked them, “How do you like German food?” they’d all complain. But after four years of living abroad and returning to Seoul, I began to crave the food I used to eat in Germany. It lacks the delicate, flamboyant flavors of other cuisines, but there’s something strangely addictive about its heartiness. Even as I happily ate raw fish over rice, sundae soup, and fermented soybean stew—dishes unimaginable in Germany—I’d suddenly find myself thinking of crumbly rye bread or bean-heavy soups. Whenever the craving became unbearable, I’d wander around searching for a taste of Germany. It’s been three years now, and here I introduce five spots that bring ‘Germany in Seoul’ to life.
Grund
When I lived in Germany, a trip to the supermarket always included a stop at the wine section, which was full of riesling (a grape variety originating from Germany’s Rhine River)—something hard to find easily in Korea. As designers who don’t know much about wine, our criteria for choosing a bottle was simple: label design. Not many rieslings had pretty labels, but their affordable price and refreshing taste naturally made them our go-to choice. On ordinary days, it was a €5 riesling from the supermarket; on special occasions, a €20 bottle with an especially pretty label, bought with some resolve from a proper wine shop. Back in Korea, natural wine bars seemed to be popping up everywhere, but the steep prices and unfamiliar wine lists made me hesitant to suggest one when making plans with friends. Then, by chance, I discovered Grund, a riesling specialty shop in Seongsu-dong. The riesling here is pricier than what we used to drink in Germany, but the taste and aroma are just as good, if not better. If we’d known this world existed while we were in Germany, we probably would have hunted down good rieslings with much more enthusiasm—our wallets a little thinner, our bellies a little heavier. A mix of regret and relief.
[Grund]
A wine bar specializing in German wine, with a focus on riesling. The owner, who lived in Germany for over ten years, offers friendly guidance, so even wine novices need not worry. Located in Seongsu-dong.
The Baker’s Table
Every friend who visited us while we lived in Germany wanted to try Schweinshaxe (roasted pork knuckle). It’s a delicious dish, but even in its home region of Bavaria, it’s not something people eat often. When our German friends heard about Koreans’ love (?) for haxe, they’d tilt their heads in confusion and tell us what they actually ate day to day: bread, cheese, pasta, and German-style soup. We have no childhood memories of swimming in Berlin’s Spree river or slurping down a hearty, warm lentil soup made from a grandmother’s secret recipe—but German home-style soup somehow makes you feel as though you do. The Baker’s Table, staffed by people of all different backgrounds, feels like a little piece of Berlin. Inside, tables are packed closely together, forcing customers to sit shoulder to shoulder and get friendly. Amid people digging into currywurst, schnitzel, and panini, we order lentil soup or bean soup. This humble soup, brimming with hearty ingredients in a warm meat broth, might not be the dish you’d specifically seek out on a trip to Berlin—every meal counts when you’re traveling, after all. But Germany wasn’t a vacation for us, so home-style soup became the dish that brings back memories of it. Every spoonful of soup at The Baker’s Table makes me think of the warm, imaginary German grandmother who exists only in my mind.
[The Baker’s Table]
A bakery and restaurant run by a German chef. It offers a wide range of options, from German-style bread and desserts to brunch items like soups, salads, and sandwiches, as well as hearty dinner dishes such as Schnitzel and Bratwurst. Locations in Hannam-dong and Samcheong-dong.
Liebhaber Seoul
How did these Germans end up running a café in Korea? Perhaps Germans wondered the same thing about us when we lived there. Sit in the dimly lit café Liebhaber (German for ‘lover’ or ‘enthusiast’)—day or night, the lighting stays low—and you’ll often hear German being spoken. Mostly it’s the staff chatting among themselves, but sometimes customers visiting from Germany join in. Whenever that happens, we prick up our ears, pretending we understand nothing, and lament how rusty our German listening skills have become. There’s no espresso machine at Liebhaber. Instead, the counter is lined with drippers and servers. We learned from a German textbook that a German invented the paper filter used for drip coffee. Does the German owner, brewing coffee with such a serious expression, know that fact too? Cake made with Quark, a German-style cream cheese; mismatched tables and chairs that look like they were picked up separately at a neighborhood flea market; and beer sipped under lighting that suddenly shifts into something extraordinary at night, to the thump of electronic music. Liebhaber Seoul has successfully transplanted a piece of Germany into the alleys of Daeheung-dong. Someday, I plan to strike up a conversation with them in German—before I forget the language completely.
[Liebhaber Seoul]
A café in Daeheung-dong run by Germans, in the German style. Serves drip coffee and Quark (German-style fresh cheese) in various flavors, along with Quark cake. In the evening it transforms into a pub, perfect for a quick beer.
395 Bäckerei
We moved several times while living in Germany, but no matter where we lived, there was always a bakery within walking distance. By 6 a.m., the display cases were already full of bread waiting for customers. We’d often throw on whatever clothes were nearby, rub the sleep from our eyes, and go buy some hearty, unpretentious bread to eat instead of a proper breakfast—our ‘morning bread.’ Heavy, coarse loaves crusted with grains and seeds tasted wonderfully nutty with a bit of butter, and a round Brötchen split in half and filled with cheese or ham made for a satisfying meal. For a lighter snack, a shiny-surfaced Brezel spread with chive cream cheese did the trick. Breakfast bread in Korea is quite different from Germany. What’s sold at neighborhood chain bakeries is sweet and fluffy, lacking any real toughness, while bakeries that do sell German-style bread often feel too trendy to sit down and enjoy comfortably. Introduced to us by a friend, 395 Bäckerei is a calm space where you can get hearty German bread made by a Backmeisterin (German for a female master baker). The made-to-order sandwiches—ham, cheese, and thinly sliced vegetables packed tightly between Kaisersemmel or rye bread—taste exactly like the ones we used to eat in Germany. The rye bread with savory walnuts and sweet apricots is perfect for nibbling on little by little. Above all, what I love about 395 Bäckerei is that it doesn’t make a fuss about selling German bread—it just does it plainly, as a matter of course. Just like a real German bakery in Germany.
[395 Bäckerei]
A bakery and café in Hapjeong specializing in German bread. Run by an owner who trained as a baker in Munich, it offers wholesome, everyday breads such as whole wheat and rye. Be sure to try the southern German specialties like Brezel and Kaisersemmel.
Sesc Menzel
I used to linger for ages trying to decide which potatoes and which sausages (or cured meats, to be precise) to buy. Eventually I settled on a few favorite beers, and picked whichever type of potato suited the dish (surprisingly, German supermarkets sell many varieties of potato, sorted by texture). The toughest challenge was always the display case packed with hams and sausages. Cured meats varied in flavor, aroma, and texture as much as they did in color and shape, and choosing today's side dish was never an easy task. Back in Korea, jambon-beurre is sold everywhere. Jamón and prosciutto are easy to find too, but German-style cured meats are hard to come by. So when I first visited Xescmenzl, I was overjoyed to see names like Kassler, Leberkäse, Krakauer, and Schinken. Watching the whole cuts of sausage and ham lined up in the display case, I feel as if I've stepped into a German supermarket. Alongside cured meats from neighboring countries — Spain's summer sausage salchichón, or the Basque region's traditional txistorra — they also sell smoked salmon and marinated olives, adding to the authentic atmosphere. The moment a thin slice of cured meat, whatever it may be, touches your tongue, we fall silent and just look at each other with an expression that says, ‘Yes, this is exactly the taste!’
[Xescmenzl]
A European-style charcuterie shop in Seongsu-dong. Great for a light lunch of soup or a sandwich, a warm dish paired with beer, or thinly sliced cold cuts enjoyed with wine.