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For a long time, the image of a traditional Korean dining table covered with banchan (side dishes) – from pickled vegetables, blanched bean sprouts, pickled radishes to steamed tofu and seaweed soup – has become a symbol of a healthy lifestyle, a harmonious balance between nutrition and aesthetics. Each small dish is a masterpiece of meticulous craftsmanship, reflecting a profound culinary philosophy.
However, these distinctive meals are gradually fading into memory as more and more family-style restaurants in South Korea are forced to close, raising concerns about the decline of a precious cultural heritage.
The decline in the number of traditional restaurants is not just a problem for the Korean culinary industry, but also reflects profound changes in modern society. One of the biggest challenges is the escalating cost of ingredients and rising labor costs, while the cooking process is too meticulous and requires traditional culinary skills that the younger generation is gradually moving away from.
A traditional Korean meal, with its table covered in banchan (side dishes), is considered a symbol of a healthy lifestyle and balanced nutrition.
According to noteworthy data from the South Korean Ministry of Agriculture, Food and Rural Affairs, the proportion of Korean restaurants in the total food service industry has significantly decreased, from 45.6% in 2018 to just 41.8% in 2024. Meanwhile, fast-food restaurants serving items like pizza, hamburgers, and Chinese noodles have seen remarkable growth. Behind these dry statistics lies the story of thousands of family-run eateries closing down as the old owners become frail and their children lose interest in taking over. They often choose a less risky and less labor-intensive path to entrepreneurship: focusing on fast food, minimalist processes, and stable profits.
However, these authentic meals are gradually fading into memory as more and more family-style restaurants in South Korea are forced to close.
More than just places to eat, traditional family-run restaurants are living treasures of Korean culinary art. They are where doenjang (Korean rice porridge) is brewed according to tradition, where wild vegetables are harvested seasonally, and where each side dish tells a story of the region and the weather. Their disappearance means the community loses a bridge to the healthy lifestyle that nurtured generations, a link between the past and the present.
Moreover, this serves as a silent warning about public health. As children become increasingly fond of black bean noodles, hamburgers, and fried chicken, while boiled vegetables, seaweed soup, and whole grains are gradually disappearing from their dinner tables, South Korea is witnessing an alarming increase in prediabetes and obesity cases.
Rising ingredient costs, increasing labor costs, and the fact that cooking is so meticulous and requires traditional culinary skills are considered the main reasons.
Despite their simple presentation, traditional Korean meals are among the most balanced and nutritious in the world. Characterized by the principle of "eating many dishes, a little of each," this model helps limit calorie intake while still ensuring all essential nutrients are provided.
In particular, side dishes of vegetables, if prepared with the right amount of salt, not only provide fiber and antioxidants but also help control blood sugar effectively. According to the principles of modern nutrition, eating vegetables before carbohydrates helps slow down the absorption of carbohydrates, avoiding sudden spikes in blood sugar after meals – a major cause of metabolic diseases.
According to data from the South Korean Ministry of Agriculture, Food and Rural Affairs, the share of Korean restaurants in the total food service industry has decreased from 45.6% (in 2018) to only 41.8% in 2024.
Nutrition experts assert that home-cooked meals, with fresh, minimally processed ingredients and low in fat, remain the ideal diet for preventing chronic diseases such as diabetes, hypertension, obesity, and colorectal cancer. A meal consisting of brown rice, low-salt kimchi, seaweed soup, steamed tofu, boiled eggs, and stir-fried lean pork with vegetables is infinitely better than a serving of starchy, sodium-rich black bean noodles or a hamburger full of trans fats.
However, the problem lies in feasibility. Even health-conscious individuals admit that it's difficult to find restaurants serving authentic "grandma's cuisine" in a modern city. The few remaining establishments, like the steamed barley stalls on the outskirts of Seoul, have become destinations for those seeking a taste of the past. But their numbers are too small, and most survive more on passion than business success.
The disappearance of traditional restaurants means that the community loses the bridges to the healthy lifestyle that nurtured generations of grandparents.
It's time for the Korean food industry to reconsider its strategy for preserving traditional cuisine. These small restaurants cannot be expected to shoulder the responsibility of preserving the nation's culinary culture alone. Specific support policies are needed: from subsidizing ingredients and teaching cooking skills to the younger generation, to building sustainable business models for traditional restaurants. This is how Japan has successfully preserved its washoku cuisine, and how Mediterranean countries have preserved Italian and Greek-style menus.
It's time for the South Korean food industry to reconsider its strategy for preserving traditional cuisine.
Cuisine is not just about taste; it's also about the core of culture and public health. If traditional Korean food disappears because it fails to keep up with the times, it's not just the fault of the market, but also a neglect of heritage, which will be paid for with full stomachs but unnourished hearts and bodies. Can the government and the community work together to preserve traditional culinary values, protect public health, and safeguard a vital part of Korean culture?
