Korean soup, Seoul

A whole young chicken stuffed with glutinous rice, ginseng, and jujube in a milky broth.
Eaten in summer to fight heat with heat.
A Seoul rite of passage.

Beef-bone broth simmered 12 hours until milky white.
Served plain, so you season at the table with salt, pepper, and green onion.
Year-round comfort.

A thicker, spicier stew shared from a bubbling pot.
Kimchi, doenjang (soybean paste), and sundubu (soft tofu) are the everyday favorites.

Busan pork-bone soup with the rice already in the bowl.
Add the shrimp sauce and chives to taste.
Cheap, fast, and addictive.

Specialty broths for the adventurous: gelatinous beef-knee cartilage, and earthy ground mudfish.

Korean dining uses both: the spoon for rice and soup, chopsticks for side dishes. Don't lift the bowl to your mouth.

Gomtang and seolleongtang arrive unseasoned on purpose. Add salt, pepper, and chopped green onion until it tastes right to you.

Dwaeji-gukbap and samgyetang soak up the rice; jjigae and tang are usually eaten side by side. Watch your neighbor if unsure.

Kimchi, pickled radish, and bean sprouts refill for free, often replenished without your asking.

Cut the chicken apart in the bowl, then eat with a spoon. The rice stuffed inside the bird is the prize. Salt the meat from the small side dish.

Several spoons in one pot is normal at family-style spots. A feature, not a faux pas.