Korean street food: what to order and how the stalls work

Street food in Korea concentrates in three kinds of place: traditional markets, the streets around university districts, and the alleys near major stations. Our traditional markets guide covers the first at more length; the others run later, often well into the night.

A stall is either a cart on the pavement or a stall inside a market building with a few stools. Both work the same way: you point, you pay, you eat there or take it with you.

Many stalls are cash-only or prefer cash, though card acceptance has spread. Carrying some notes for this specifically is worth doing.

Tteokbokki is cylindrical rice cake in a sweet-hot red sauce, and it is the emblematic Korean street food. It is chewier than most visitors expect — the texture is the point rather than a fault — and the heat varies a lot between stalls.

Twigim is battered and fried vegetables, squid or dumplings, sold by the piece and usually eaten dipped into the tteokbokki sauce.

Hotteok is a griddled pancake filled with melted brown sugar, cinnamon and nuts. It arrives extremely hot in the middle and it is the classic street-food burn; give it a moment.

Gimbap is rice and fillings rolled in seaweed, sold in sliced rolls, and it is the reliable option when you want something plain and portable.

Odeng, sometimes called eomuk, is fish cake on skewers standing in broth. Winter markets run on it.

At a fish-cake stall there will be a stack of paper cups by the pot. The broth is free, you help yourself, and standing there drinking a cup of it in the cold is a normal thing to do rather than a liberty.

You pay per skewer, and you are trusted to keep count. Put your used skewers in the cup or the container provided so the stallholder can total them. Quietly losing one is noticed and is bad form.

Shared dipping sauce at a stall is exactly that. Dip once, or use the small dish if one is offered.

Eating while walking is mildly frowned upon. Eating standing at the stall you bought from is entirely normal, and most stalls expect it — that is what the narrow counter is for.

Public bins are scarce in Korean cities. The stall will take your cup and skewers; if you have walked off with something, the next convenience store is where it goes.

Hygiene at established stalls is generally good and turnover is fast. The usual traveller's rule applies here as anywhere: a queue of locals is the best signal available.