Bibijae is Bibimbuss
- 5 days ago
- 3 min read
After a tiring day spent along the bay of Gwangalli Beach in Busan, a shallow bay of clean, calm water framed by high-rise architecture and an open ocean, bustling with energy by day and glittering with life at night, my mom, sister, and I often found ourselves unsure about what to eat. Every day. Not because there were no options, but because there were too many. As Hondurans in Korea, we were surrounded by many significant differences in our culinary palettes.
Central American food leans heavily on comfort staples, such as corn tortillas, kidney beans, plantains, and fresh quesillo Oaxaca (yum) at the heart of our dishes, which greatly contrasts with the East Asian flavors we were exposed to during our trip to Busan.
History behind Culinary
Despite our differences in taste, I still find myself kicking my feet for one memorable dish from my time in Busan: goldongban. If you’re not familiar with goldongban, worry not; I wasn’t either. The dish is now called “bibimbap,” a famous Korean mixed rice dish. First of all, the name itself is satisfying to say: "bibim" means mixed, and "bap" means rice, which in a sense describes the dish. However, it features much more than that. It has rice that crisps at the corners of the pot, topped with a raw egg, seasoned vegetables, meat, and gochujang. The history of this beloved dish traces back to ancestral ceremonies and New Year clean-outs when families would mix rice, vegetables, and leftover side dishes into a single bowl. Although it wasn’t always called bibimbap. At one point, it was known as hwaban, or “flower rice.”
Maybe that’s why Bibijae's dishes stuck with me. It’s the only Michelin-selected restaurant focused on bibimbap in Busan, and as soon as you enter, you’re greeted by a simple white wall adorned with a flower.
The woman who attended to us was the embodiment of the warmth that I believe bibimbap is meant to represent (The Guardian doesn’t call it the ultimate comfort meal for no reason). A lovely woman welcomed us at the door, seated us, and attentively took our order. What was surprising was the fact that it was a one-woman show too (this was common to see on our trip to Korea), with one person attending to us and cooking all three meals in a relatively short period of time. And (always) hitting the spot.
When my dish arrived, I couldn't contain my excitement upon seeing a flower (proof below). Specifically, a cheese flower that melted into the rice and released a delightful aroma.
However, I knew better than to dive in right away. I knew I hadn’t been in an international school all my life for nothing, so I decided to ask my Korean classmates ahead of time how I should eat it. Following their orders, I first took a moment to appreciate the array of vibrant colors and waited for the rice to crisp perfectly for that extra crunch. Then, I added as much gochujang as I could handle, broke the yolk, and mixed all the ingredients to achieve the perfect balance of rice, meat, and vegetables in every single bite.
Bibijae wasn’t any ordinary place you come across. It elevated the basic flavor profile of a typical Bibimbap, with Sichuan pepper oil, pork bowls, and a beautifully creative presentation (although it disappeared quickly because I couldn’t resist). The rice was the perfect combination of soft and crispy at the edges. The vegetables were fresh, moist, and tender, feeling as if they had just been plucked from the soil. It added a refreshing quality to the bibimbap. And then, twas the pièce de résistance (at least for me). The runny egg yolk, which, when broken, oozed out like a velvety sauce that coated every bite perfectly.
If you’re looking for a restaurant that serves a dish you’ll rave about to all your friends and family, your search ends with Bibijae. Whether or not you’re used to the flavors it offers, everyone finds something to appreciate in the dish. And if you’re like me, you’ll always remember the small flower that greets you at the entrance and accompanies the meal. And you’ll carry with you the essence of that flower as long as the taste lingers in your memory.
That’s why it’s bibibuss.
Comments