A Flavor of Korea: Banchan, the Little Dishes That Say Welcome

“Which dish do you reach for first?”
“Are there rules for these tiny plates?”
“And why are there so many of them?”

If you’ve asked any of those questions in Korea, you’ve already met banchan. In Korea, dinner doesn’t come in courses. It lands all at once with rice, soup, sauces, and a scatter of small plates that turn a table into a landscape.

Not sides, the chorus

Banchan isn’t just free side dishes. It’s the rhythm of a Korean meal: meant to be shared, passed, topped up, and folded into rice. The variety isn’t just for show. It's for balance, for instance, something bright next to something salty, or something crunchy beside something soft. 

In older homes, the spread even had a name depending on how many dishes appeared, and you still feel that spirit today, whether in a humble lunch set or a celebratory feast.

How to eat the Banchan

• Start small, Try everything. Go back for what sings.

• Let the staff place the dishes, there’s a flow to the layout.

• Refills? Often, yes. Finish what you have and then ask with a smile.

• Rice is the anchor, so pair each bite with a spoonful.

3 easy banchan to meet first

Myeolchi-bokkeum (멸치볶음): tiny anchovies stir-fried till glossy and a little sweet, a crunchy counterpoint to soft rice.

Sigeumchi-namul (시금치나물): blanched spinach with sesame and garlic; clean, green, perfect beside anything spicy.

Gamja-jorim (감자조림): soy-braised potatoes in a silky glaze, comfort cut into cubes.

If you feel overwhelmed, order a baekban (set meal). It comes with rice, soup, and a mini tour of banchan on one tray. Markets like Gwangjang are also ideal for buying small portions to taste as you go.

Sunhee’s Banchan stall: small dishes, big welcome!

Step off Jongno’s traffic and into Gwangjang Market and you’ll hear the music of ladles, knives, and vendors calling regulars by name. This is where Seoul still cooks like home. And tucked among the din is a banchan stall that has kept its spot for nearly fifty years. At a beloved stall often known as Sunhee’s Banchan (순희네 반찬), we met Mrs. Chu Guisoon.

“I was 19 when I came here,” she tells me, hands moving without thinking as she dresses greens. “I kept my head down and worked hard. Almost fifty years now.”
“My rule is simple—work hard, be honest, treat customers well. I make everything like my own family will eat it.”

She recalls that, in the stall’s early days, 2 a.m. starts sometimes meant a quick nap under a newspaper before the first deliveries and she talks about raising kids who now help at the counter. What comes through isn’t the grind. It’s gratitude.

“Customers choose to come to me,” she says.
“That trust gives me energy. I’m thankful every day.”

Watching her Myeolchi-bokkeum (stir-fried anchovies, 멸치볶음) beside Sigeumchi-namul (Seasoned Spinach, 시금치 나물), you understand what banchan really is: care, made visible. Not a star dish, but the chorus that makes the whole meal sing.

Banchan isn’t a side at all. It’s a promise with a table set so everyone eats well, a handful of small dishes carrying the work of many hands. You taste salt and sesame, but what lingers is care. At Goodmate Travel, we think Seoul’s flavor lives in a stallholder’s hello. Join our Night Market Food Tour to meet the locals, learn the names, and taste what’s in season.

Come hungry. Share widely. Because some tables are meant to be shared, not just photographed!