Tosokchon



“tosokchon rightfully deserves its self-proclaimed title as ‘korean food specialists’.”

Humor this foodie for one moment and imagine that you’re wandering the streets of Busan, South Korea on a frigid winter night. A light snow is drifting down, sparkling in the lights of the skyscrapers and high-tech crosswalks. As you trudge through the gathering snow, a spicy, buttery smell wafts through the air: shellfish of all kinds - clams, oysters, crabs, shrimps and scallops - being grilled in the open air night market across the street. The metropolitan city of the country, second in population only to Seoul, Busan boasts a vibrant culture of food and street markets. From the fresh saengseonhoe of Jagalchi Fish Market to Dwaeji Gukbap Alley’s cluster of earthy and pungent curbside restaurants, Korean flavors have a complex and even philosophical  history that is often unsung in foreign countries. Luckily, Tosokchon in Annandale, VA is one step forward in sharing the best of authentic Korean food with the world.

An unassuming little shop open 24 hours in the corner of a shopping center, Tosokchon’s cartoon straw hut signage self-proclaims itself as “Korean Food Specialists.” While this might be a bold claim, the restaurant’s appearance shows any visitor where its priorities lie the moment you set foot inside. Several cardboxes could be seen stacked up against the wall. A single water cooler sat on the cracked browned tile with paper cups on a small stool nearby. Chairs and tables were a basic wood slapped with black paint. My first time there, I felt excited - places like these remind me of what some of us fondly joke about in Asian friend groups: “If the workers can’t speak English and it looks a bit dirty, that’s how you know it’s authentic.” I wasn’t sure tell if Tosokchon was trying to cosplay as a "hole-in-the-wall” Korean food stand or if it really was one, but I couldn’t wait to find out.

Fortunately, on my first visit there I was accompanied by two medical school friends who I hadn’t seen in forever - one of whom is Korean - and so we deferred to him ordering on behalf of the table our hefty meal to share: seafood and beef soondubu jjigae (spicy silken tofu stew), hameul pajeon (seafood pancake), japchae (stir-fried glass noodles with beef and veggies), jokbal (korean-style pig’s trotter), soondae (korean blood sausage), and galbi (thinly sliced BBQ short ribs). Truth be told, I was a bit nervous. Despite having tasted a lot of strange and ethnic cooking, some of these foods (jokbal and soondae) would be the first I would have tried in any variation of cuisine.

With the flashy speed of a Southern diner on a Sunday morning, our orders came out, each on their hot clay plate or pot. The soondubu was immaculate, perfectly warm and spicy for a cold winter’s day outside with plenty of whole shrimp, clams, and brisket cuts amidst the soft tofu. The hameul pajeon and japchae were a bit more cool and neutral in their taste profile that served as nice intermissions to have in between bites of the more earthy and gamey nibbles of soondae and jokbal. The soondae texture was much chewier than I expected, and fibrous as well given that the casing is traditionally made by steaming a cow or pig’s intestines after stuffing it with blood. The unmistakeable scent of iron that accompanies any dish with blood as an ingredient was enlivened with chili powder, dried and ground shrimp paste, and a salt/sugar mix. If I had to describe it, I would say it had an earthy taste and a feel that was reminscent of mochi. The jokbal was a lot closer to my speed. Our order was served cold, and it came out as a pile of boneless meat that had been sliced over chunks of meaty bones. Often times, jokbal is supposed to be eaten as ssam, wrapped in a piece of lettuce with sauces and other vegetables and accompanied with soju - the Korean variation of rice vodka. The meat was flavorful, packed with natural umami with grease that coated our mouths as we ate. It was a bit gamier than I expected, so I combined it with a bowl of rice and sides of kimchi to soften the blow. Lastly, you can never go wrong with galbi. The sweet marinade just meshes great with the savory strips of beef. It was the perfect end to a well-rounded meal.

My overall experience at Tosokchon was nothing short of amazing. If you’re looking for really attentive staff who are going to be regularly checking in on your table, then you might not find that here (native Korean restaurants often have a call button to press if you need assistance, and this place has one). But if what you’re craving is real, mid-quality Korean food - prepared and served as they might in a night market or any hawker in South Korea for a decent price, then you’ve come to the right place. Given its 24 hour status, it’s not uncommon to see college students or even older patrons stumble in for a hangover cure or looking to satisfy their cravings. I’ll definitely be returning to the fabled Tosokchon in the near future, and I hope you’ll see it for yourself.


Fun fact: Traditionally, samgyetang is considered as a “mother-in-law” cuisine because in the old days, it was customary for the mother-in-law to kill one of her back-yard chickens to make samgyetang for her son-in-law who visited her. Therefore, to the Koreans, samgyetang is a cuisine filled with mother's love.


Food Quality: 7.8/10
Meal Value: 8.0/10
Dining Experience 6.8/10

Overall: 7.53/10



Alexander N.

Alexander is a serious, full-time professional foodie with a side-gig pursuing his medical doctorate. When he isn’t out foraging for the perfect hamachi nigiri, he’s experimenting with nouveau ways of cooking in his tiny Richmond apartment. He lives by the famous Julia Child’s motto: “The only time to eat diet food is while you’re waiting for your steak to cook.”

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