I visited Ga Hyang Ru for the first time ever one recent weekday evening. It is a humble, tucked-away space located on the corner of West 12th Street and Lonsdale Avenue that, up until very recently, I didn’t know existed, despite dining next door at Bravo Cucina countless times.
I had been tipped off about this place by an acquaintance who assured me Ga Hyang Ru offered authentic Korean cuisine and was a hidden gem on the North Shore.
The place was packed on the evening of my visit and so I opted for takeout. I had my two-year-old daughter in tow and we sat sipping herbal tea that had been thoughtfully cooled down before being presented by our server, the sole front of house staffer on this busy night.
As my daughter looked out the window in search of holiday light strings on the balconies of surrounding apartment buildings, I surveyed the room, noting that there were a few dishes that seemed to find favour here, in particular one with a thick dark sauce, almost black in its opacity, served over noodles. Consulting the menu, I determined this popular dish was Jajang Myun (more commonly called jjajangmyeon), described on the menu as vegetables, pork and noodles in black bean sauce. I decided to give it a go. In addition, I ordered Chili Tang Su Yuk (sweet and sour deep fried pork with chili), Koon Man Du (fried dumplings), and Jam Bong (spicy seafood and noodle soup). The selection came to $54.
It is worth noting that Ga Hyang Ru does not serve the usual staple fare one encounters at most other Korean restaurants on the North Shore, dishes like bibimbap or bulgogi. There is no barbecue to be found here, nor are there any of the cute westernized riffs on Korean traditional preparations, like KFC (Korean Fried Chicken), which is de rigueur right now on many menus around town. Ru’s menu is noodle–heavy and not shy of spice, as evidenced by the little chili pepper icons appended next to many dishes, as well as by the food itself, which I’ll get to in a minute.
The room is purely functional, no frills even. Watching diners tuck into their generously portioned dishes as I browsed the menu, I got the sense that this place puts all of its care and attention into its food, with only perfunctory effort applied to the dining environment. I would categorize Ga Hyang Ru as a classic hole-in-the-wall diner, with no pejorative tone implied.
Now, about that food. The defiantly black Jajang Myun turned out to be the star of the show. I have never had the dish before and consequently brought all sorts of assumptions to the table. In my experience, black bean sauces tend to be overwhelmingly salty and any sauce with the thick consistency of the sort exhibited by Ru’s effort generally has an off-putting, over-starched gloopiness to it. But the Jajang defied my assumptions thoroughly. The seasoning was balanced and the dominant flavour was, surprisingly, that of deeply caramelized onions, which gave a rich, heady, slightly sweet taste. Deep fried morsels of breaded pork accompanied the sauce and the noodles were a revelation: long, linguine-like strands with an elasticity and chewiness that made them a blast to eat. I see why this dish has become a house specialty.
The fried dumplings, pan-seared until deep golden in colour, were jammed with gingery pork and shallot. Served with a potent soy dipping sauce, they reminded me very much of gyoza and I made short work of them.
Less successful was the Tang Su Yuk, which suffered from the aforementioned over-thickening. The sauce, actually nice enough on the palate, revealing unapologetic chili heat and garlic notes, had that unmistakable corn starch sheen and slightly gelatinous texture that I associate with food court fare. The pork, the same deep fried morsels that featured in the Jajang, married well with the fiery heat, but were ultimately bested by the sauce.
Last up was the seafood soup, which I thoroughly enjoyed. The bright red broth, spicy but not overwhelmingly so, was replete with strands of cabbage and onion, and had a nice assortment of seafood including squid, mussels and prawns. The richly flavoured broth, lifted with briny seafood notes, reminded me, in principal, of bouillabaisse.
Ga Hyang Ru is located at
1205 Lonsdale Avenue.
604-929-1231. No website.
