Food can take us to many places. At Yousukgung 1779, the restaurant on the Choe House property in Gyeongju, South Korea, it also transports us through time courtesy of one family’s 300-year-old recipes.
Gyeongju is located three hours south of Seoul by the high-speed Korea Train Express. Locals call the city “a museum without walls.” For almost a millennium, Gyeongju served as the capital city of South Korea. All power, wealth, and high society were concentrated there, resulting in historical buildings and architecture designed in the way of Buddhist teachings that prioritize nature and bend seamlessly into its environment rather than impose on it. The capital has since moved north to Seoul, taking the crowds, wealth, and energy with it, but Gyeongju is still home to natural wonders and prime food options, including its famed bulgogi and prime cut Hanwoo beef that is three times higher than the cost of American beef. This shift has reshaped the city into an oasis away from the frenetic energy of the surrounding cities.
In the shadow of a historical family
Chef Junsoo Bae of Michelin-starred San Francisco restaurant SSAL grew up 20 minutes away. “Choe House is one of several giant, traditional Korean historical houses maintained through the generations,” he explained. “They're focused on very specific families, their recipes and cooking traditions. The Choe in particular is a house known for its wealth and loyalty [to the people].”
Named after Silla King Muyeol's daughter Princess Yoseok, as well as the year the family structure was built, Yosukgung 1779 is a fine dining restaurant highlighting the favorite meals and cooking techniques favored by 12 generations of the Choe family.
Traditional Korean recipes stand the test of time
Diners can expect sainji, a form of kimchi made using a seasoning of fresh seafood, shiitake mushrooms, and 20 other ingredients pickled with napa cabbage. The result is refreshing and light. Jipjang, a side dish of fermented soybeans, also uses 20 ingredients including kelp, chive, radish, and Korean beef that's been simmered for 10 hours for a rich, umami taste. Dried roe is carefully shredded and whipped into soft, fluffy pieces to make bukeo bopuragi. This wide variety of banchan accompanies a sizzling pot of soup, vegetables, and seafood — it is a style of dining known as hanjeongsik.
“Korean dining culture is everything is placed on the table all at once and enjoyed at the same time,” said Bae. “It’s not a coursed meal, nothing is cleared. You get a spoon and chopsticks, and you're eating all night.”
The meal is served in a traditional Korean wooden and stone hanok with an ondol system — a 2,000-plus-year-old underground method that heats the floor. After removing their shoes outside the dining space, guests are seated on the ground and dine off of low wooden tables.
A wealthy family's code of conduct ensured their legacy
For more than 300 years, the Choe family amassed wealth — and maintained it — because they used their riches to serve their community. They opened their food stores during famine and avoided hoarding wealth, which back then was represented in the accumulation of food. The family lived by a strict code of conduct with six specific rules: Avoid public office to prevent conflicts of power. Land purchases in times of crisis are prohibited. Feed anyone within the 40 kilometer radius of their home. Be hospitable to travelers and guests. Return any possessions worth more than 10,000 seok (about 1,440 tons of rice) to the people. Women who married into the family were expected to wear cotton (rather than expensive silks) for the first three years of marriage.
“Back in the day, Korea was very poor,” said Bae. “Business, the wealth of families and society was based on agriculture. I'm not talking about 50 or 60 years ago. I'm talking about 100, 200 years ago.”
The Choe family took it upon themselves to address local poverty through food. They kept a hip-height wooden box with a hole on the top on their property. Inside of it were ssal — the grains of uncooked rice after which Bae's restaurant is named. Anyone needing a meal was welcome to grab a fistful, and a servant of the Choe would cook it for the visitor.
Choe Jun was the last family member to live on the family compound before he gave away all his riches to create Gyerim College and Daegu College (now consolidated as Yeungnam University) after the 1945 liberation of Korea. He was a businessman turned freedom fighter who served prison time as a rebel against Japanese imperialism. Today, people can visit the family grounds, and one of the most special parts of the compound is the Yosukgung 1779, which serves a curated menu of the family's recipes from over the centuries.
To them, rice wasn’t a simple grain; it was a treasure they shared with their community.
Exporting tradition doesn't come easily
Bae is bringing some of these regional flavors back to the United States. His kimchi uses similar ingredients to what you might find at Choe House’s Yousukgung 1779, but he wants to be clear — it won’t be the same.
“They have their own recipe and their own techniques,” said Bae. “I'm sure one of their generation representatives is going to reach out to me and say ‘Did you steal our recipe or something?’ if I say I’m doing the Choe kimchi. We are a different family, and each daughter learns the family recipes from the mother-in-law. Men aren’t even allowed into the kitchen.”
Bae butted heads with his father, Taewon Bae, over his desire to pursue a culinary career. It was an unsuitable career option for his son due to Korean tradition. For seven years, they didn’t talk. Eventually, his father came around. For the last two years, his father has been farming sesame and sending the pressed oil to Bae to use in his Michelin-starred restaurant’s beef tartare.
“He puts [the oil] in two liter Coca-Cola bottles, wraps it up with the plastic wrap, like 30 times, and then he sends it through FedEx to me,” said Bae. “He does this three times a year.”
The Choe family grew to be admired over the generations because of their long-standing commitment to an ethical approach to life. The code of conduct gave the family clear guardrails on how to be thoughtful about managing their riches, while also setting the tone for other wealthy families. To them, rice wasn’t a simple grain; it was a treasure they shared with their community. The success of their multi-generational practice of nourishing their community proves that some traditions are worth continuing, while others need to be re-examined. For generations, this role of preservation has fallen to the women of Bae’s family. He's the first in his family to break with tradition and loves the idea of his son following in his footsteps ,”If that's what he wants.”
The past comes alive at Choe House in Gyeongju. With each bite, guests can taste the family’s influence. The preservation of the family’s recipes and techniques for over 300 years is a reminder of the power one can hold when not gripping it so tightly.