A Taste of You: What Your Favourite Korean Dish Reveals About Your Palette

Food, like fashion, tells a story — not just of culture, but of preference, personality, and even pace. While Korean cuisine is wonderfully diverse, from bold street snacks to deeply nourishing stews, we each find ourselves returning to certain flavours again and again.

Is it the slow burn of tteokbokki you crave? The umami richness of doenjang jjigae? Or the delicate simplicity of mul naengmyeon on a summer day? What draws us to these dishes often mirrors how we engage with the world — how we seek comfort, excitement, or elegance.

In this piece, we explore what your favourite Korean dish might say about you. Not in the spirit of scientific analysis, but in the joy of self-discovery — because sometimes, your palate knows you better than you think.

Kimchi Jjigae

Bold, grounded, and never afraid of depth.
If this spicy, fermented stew is your go-to, you’re someone who values tradition — but never in a stale or rigid way. You appreciate intensity, emotional honesty, and experiences that unfold slowly. Just like kimchi jjigae, you have layers — and you’re not afraid to let them show.

Tteokbokki

Playful, passionate, and unapologetically nostalgic.
You’re drawn to warmth, colour, and maybe a touch of chaos. Whether you discovered it on a Seoul street or in a K-drama, tteokbokki speaks to your inner romantic: you find joy in simple pleasures, believe in second helpings, and don’t shy away from a little sweetness with your spice.

Bibimbap

Balanced, creative, and always curating.
If bibimbap is your choice, you likely have a natural eye for harmony — in your wardrobe, your friendships, and your meals. You like options, enjoy crafting the perfect bite (or outfit), and know that good things often come from thoughtful composition.

Samgyeopsal (Grilled Pork Belly)

Sociable, grounded, and delightfully unpretentious.
You believe life is best enjoyed in good company — preferably over a grill. You’re not about ceremony, but you do believe in ritual: passing the lettuce leaf, clinking glasses, and enjoying the slow pace of shared meals. You’re comfort-first, connection-always.

Doenjang Jjigae

Earthy, introspective, and quietly discerning.
If you favour the savoury depth of fermented soybean stew, you likely have an old soul. You’re the kind of person who reads ingredient lists, keeps your weekends sacred, and would rather have one honest conversation than ten small ones. There’s something calming about your presence — and people feel it.

Mul Naengmyeon

Elegant, composed, and subtly surprising.
Cold noodles in chilled broth may seem understated — but they’re quietly complex. You appreciate restraint, own more neutrals than brights, and probably have a signature scent. When others rush, you slow down. There’s power in your pause, and a refreshing clarity to how you move through the world.

Bungeoppang

Romantic, whimsical, and a little bit poetic.
If this fish-shaped pastry makes you smile, you’re likely a lover of small delights: the smell of baking, the crispness of winter air, the first page of a new book. You find beauty in the everyday and don’t mind being a little sentimental. In fact, you cherish it.

Whether your go-to is rich and comforting or bold and bracing, there’s a kind of quiet truth in the dishes we return to. Taste, after all, is personal — and sometimes, what we crave says more about us than we realise.

So, what does your favourite Korean dish say about you?

Slow Food, Korean Soul: Why Korea’s Culinary Traditions Feel So Modern

In a world rushing toward convenience, Korea holds its ground with something rarer: patience.

From bubbling clay pots of fermenting kimchi to the slow art of jang (fermented pastes), Korean food tells a story not of instant gratification, but of time, care, and connection.

Fermentation isn’t just a culinary technique here; it’s a philosophy. Across courtyards and rooftops, rows of earthenware jars called onggi quietly do their work, nurturing the transformation of simple ingredients into something rich, layered, alive. Every village once had its own secrets: how long to ferment, when to stir, what the seasons would whisper into the final taste.

Modern health trends speak in the language of gut health, probiotics, and microbiomes.

But Korea has been listening to its body this way for centuries.

This intuitive knowledge - that good food feeds more than hunger - is stitched into the everyday fabric of Korean life, well before it became a global conversation.

What feels striking is how seamlessly these traditions blend into today’s Korea. In a gleaming city like Seoul, you’ll find cutting-edge cafés selling cold-pressed juices next to bustling markets offering homemade kimchi aged in family cellars. Both worlds coexist without contradiction. The reverence for tradition doesn’t resist modernity; it shapes it.

There’s something quietly luxurious about this rhyth, - the way Korean cuisine insists on origin, quality, and authenticity wihtout fanfare. In an era obsessed with speed, Korea reminds us that the real nourishement takes time. And that some of the most modern ideas were always right there, simmering patiently beneath the surface.