Throughout my research, photography, and visits to various Korean restaurants in Southern California, I observed that most restaurants preserved and presented Korean authenticity through their dining experiences. Some restaurants held my childhood memories, others reminded me of my family in South Korea, and others reaffirmed my belief that even the smallest of details –such as the type of cup or placemat – could reflect dual identities.
The similarities between some of the locations pleasantly surprised me, specifically the stainless steel cups (found at MDK Noodles and Honey Pig) and the 진로 (Jinro) frog mascot plastic water bottles (found at Honey Pig, The Old School, and Pelicana). The objects paralleled the cuisine essentials and promotional items found in typical South Korean restaurants, underscoring how restaurants like MDK Noodles, Honey Pig, The Old School, and Pelicana maintained these essentials without converting them to plastic or glass cups.
While working on this project, I learned that whether a Korean restaurant has maintained its authenticity requires the evaluation of not just its similarities to other restaurants, but its differences between each other and with tradition, as its differences tell a story about their individual ways of maintaining their identity or adjusting it to fit in with American counterpart restaurants catering to more diverse audiences. For instance, Heybings differs from traditional 팥빙수 (patbingsu). Although it offers the Classic Injeolmi patbingsu, its other aspects do not align with traditional patbingsu standards stemming from the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910), as indicated by modernized interior and options unheard of from the period. I interpreted this difference as Heybings prioritizing introducing this Korean dessert to American customers through more familiar flavors, like Choco Oreo or Mango Paradise.
An example of a difference between restaurants is how Borit Gogae was the only restaurant to feature paintings from the starvation period in South Korean history, which it is named after. While conversing with an employee, it became evident that the restaurant owner, who had illustrated the paintings, valued honoring the stories of fathers, mothers, and children from this period. The owner's paintings reminded me of 트로트 (Trot), South Korea's oldest pop music genre, which consists of songs characterized by emotionally resonant expressions of hardship, longing, and nostalgia, as they depicted families and communities working together to provide food to one another during times of scarcity and uncertainty.
Through this project, I also learned that each restaurant – whether it was founded by South Korean immigrants or was a chain restaurant extending from South Korea – holds its own definition of authenticity rooted in its background and circumstances, which it expresses through curated decorations and foods.
One challenge I faced during this project was refocusing my relationship with photography. I have always enjoyed photography, but as I started posting photos on social media, I began photographing with an audience in mind, subject to their judgment. As I became more involved in my project, however, I naturally started distancing myself from social media, which shifted my focus toward myself and capturing restaurants' stories through my photography.
If I have the opportunity to explore my Passion Project in the future, I would like to expand my geographical range by comparing and contrasting Korean restaurants across the states. If exploring restaurants is not an option, I would still love to explore Korean identity and authenticity in some way, shape, or form.
I would like to thank you for exploring my project, and my advisor Professor Gaffney and the Gould Center for enabling me to pursue this project and share it with you.
조해나 / Hannah Cho