Kimbap at Woo Ri and First Korean Markets

Jonathan Kauffman

Kimbap from First Korean Market.

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The front counter of most Korean markets is a snacker's paradise: styrofoam platters of fried chicken drumettes, plastic containers filled with a dozen or so panchan (side dishes), silver-dollar fritters, thumb-thick rice cakes coated in sweet-spicy chile sauce, tangles of japchae. In my 20s, I used to wait for the bus a block away from Woo Ri Korean Market on Fillmore and O'Farrell, and I systematically tasted my way through the packets on their counter, including the soondae (blood sausage) and dried cuttlefish strips dressed in chile paste (a favorite). For a time, I'd sneak Woori snacks into movies at the Kabuki, until I tore open a particularly garlicky package of something and heard two guys behind me go, "What in the HELL is that smell?"

The snack that I still walk out of the store clutching most often ― lunch on the go ― is kimbap, aka "Korean sushi." Sold in bus stations, packed in lunch boxes, bought in tiny convenience stores, kimbap is the ham and cheese sandwich of Korea. Except it's more healthful than a ham and cheese sandwich, a complete meal in a bundle. It's especially easy to eat on the bus, since kimbap rolls are seasoned with sesame oil, and neither soy sauce nor wasabi is required.

I've been picking up kimbap at both Woori and the Richmond's First Korean Market (two rolls cost $4 at both places, and are more than enough for one hungry person) for so long I never thought to compare the two.

Jonathan Kauffman

Woo Ri's kimbap

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The differences are minimal. While kimbap in Korea (or even local restaurants) can contain anything from beef to crab or tofu, the rice rolls at both markets are largely the same: a strip of fish cake, bright yellow pickled daikon, shredded carrots, and short-grain rice rolled in a sheet of kim (seaweed) brushed with sesame oil and sometimes sprinkled with toasted seeds. First Korean Market's rice-rollers add cucumber and sweet omelet, Woo Ri's spinach and tofu.