Cheap Eats - Wong Does Kong Dong
So Kong Dong offers a dining experience as heady as its food
“Eating is my favorite thing to do,” says Audrey, my friend’s spirited 5-year-old. She and her family have forgone an easy dinner at home to sign up for this exploration, and they’re ready to eat. So Kong Dong is packed on this early Sunday evening with nothing but Korean clans. English speaking is limited to our crowd, and inquiries as to wait time for a table are met with a stream of Korean words. Smiles are offered apologetically on both sides. We’re seated quickly, even though we’re an unwieldy party of seven. But panic reigns. Everyone, including us, is utterly frantic. The language barrier is wooly and the harried servers are flustered.
Nak-Ji Gook-soo, anyone?: Tucked away in a corner of the restaurant, there’s little indication that we’re anywhere near Atlanta. So Kong Dong is handsomely outfitted with gleaming wood floors and tables and the wallpaper is printed with Korean lettering. Partitions kitted out to resemble shuttered windows heighten the sense that you’ve stepped into another world. English menu descriptions are vague, and servers lack the English fluency to explain.
Ordering is a messy affair, and we aren’t quite sure we’re going to get what we asked for. Our meals arrive in a heartbeat, but matching up diner and plate is chaotic. “Nak-ji gook-soo?” our server asks, holding a bubbling iron skillet of noodles. Blank stares. “Nak-ji gook-soo?” she repeats. After more repetitions, it finally dawns on someone that she’s referring to the sliced octopus with noodles I ordered ($14.99). The entree is way too much for one person and should be shared between at least two. It burns with garlic, but the octopus is tender and fat, and the soft noodles are deliciously seared from contact with the skillet.
Happy meal: Audrey gets her noodles, in the form of arrowroot vermicelli served on an exquisite arrangement of paper-thin zucchini, carrots, green onion and an orange slice with cold beef broth ($7.49). Tofu Bibibap ($6.99) is beautiful in a stoneware bowl laden with enoki mushrooms, shreds of carrots, radish and zucchini, topped with a slice of soft tofu and a poached egg, all bound together with a dollop of toenjang, a fermented soybean paste that gives Korean food its characteristic orange-red color and pungency. The paste is to Korea what mayonnaise is to the South — inescapable.
Audrey’s sister Sofia out-orders everyone with Boolgogi ($10.99), a tiny cauldron of thinly sliced beef served in a broth sweet with sesame, green onion and garlic. She eats it with a spoon.
Dodge the droves: A weekday night would have been a better choice for our outing, as on a second visit the meal isn’t paced like a race. We’re given plenty of time and communication goes more smoothly. The oyster tofu soup of toenjang and broth ($6.99) bubbles away in a stone bowl, and the tofu is as silky and cushy as the oysters. Korean barbecue ribs ($11.99) are excellent — savory-sweet and perfectly yielding, with a healthy touch of sesame.
Despite intimidating language issues, So Kong Dong is worth a visit for the adventurous diner. After all, if a 5- and a 6-year-old can make a go of it, most anyone could.