Korean Restaurants Made Me Feel Less Alone: A Personal History
Sometimes Ann Arbor feels like a bubble from the rest of Michigan.
I have been living in Ann Arbor for 22 years and I find it to be true, but for a reason many wouldn’t expect. Yes there is richness in culture, prestigious universities, and a long-rooted history of leaders and creators, but for me this comfortable bubble is the Korean food this town has to offer.
I can’t recall a town in Michigan that has such an abundance of Korean restaurants as Ann Arbor. From modern Korean like Miss Kim to known-for-its-BBQ like Tomukun, the variety in taste of Korean food anyone might be looking for in Michigan, you can find it in Ann Arbor. When it comes to Korean food, my nature is to search for a place that tastes and feels like home-
One that feels like my umma’s cooking and gestures of Korean hospitality.
Two places in Ann Arbor have given me a sense of home I needed when it feels lonely being Korean in America, especially in the midwest. These two restaurants happen to sit almost side by side on a street that often is bustling with college students, S. University Avenue. Perhaps they are looking for a piece of home, too.
Rich J.C. is a Korean Restaurant that my husband and I have been eating at for nearly two decades. There was a time we ate there weekly. Pungent aroma of kimchi fills the air thick when you walk in. “Ahn-young-ha-sae-yo” greets me with a wave and a warm smile. Whether it’s a hot summer day, bitterly cold winter night, or anything in-between, this space has welcomed me with exactly what my belly and hungry soul needed without fail.
For a few years back then, it used to be called Rich J.C. Korean Cafe before it was changed to Rich J.C. In the early 2000s, I remember the space being pretty empty with only 4-5 customers for dinner service. In the course of eight to ten years and beyond--now, there is a line out the door--from college kids to families, all longing for something delicious. We went for the food, but also for the company.
Ahjumma and ahjussi never asked once why we don’t have kids, especially after knowing us for so long. This took me by surprise because any other Korean older adult would ask without reservation. I felt accepted. As a school teacher, the first six years were challenging. And on top of that, attending graduate school while teaching full time felt like more than I could bear. Those years were long and fast all at once.
But, in the midst of the blur, meals we ate at Rich J.C. felt like time had stopped just so I could know I am okay, I will be okay.
Interior of Rich J.C.
I can still taste the kimchi jigae, a very popular yet ordinary dish. The kimchi and the soup was nothing like I have tasted, at the same time tasted like everything I knew. The spicy, savory, and salty flavors hit your tongue all at once even in a small spoonful. You keep going back for more. The piping hot jigae continues to bubble until the last drop is left. It’s exactly how my umma makes jigaes at home. It’s not Korean until it’s boiling hot, I was taught. There aren’t many dishes in the Korean cuisine that are lukewarm except for the banchans--it’s either piping hot or ice cold. While the owners have changed in recent years, the restaurant continues to do well by serving delicious meals.
A few doors down from Rich J.C. is Kang’s Korean Restaurant. I can hardly believe it has existed since the 1980's. Back then it was a simple coffee shop selling Korean donuts and over the years it became a full service restaurant that is popular for both dining in and take out. I wish I was in Ann Arbor to experience the coffee shop and the evolution of this space, but from the flavors of each dish and the warm hospitality, I can only imagine just how special it was from the start. Each time I walk into Kang’s, the ambience is cozy and welcoming. With Korean pop music playing in the background and self-serve water and boricha, I am transported to a restaurant in Korea even though I have no memories of it. When something is special, it can feel familiar without remembrance.
You know a space is special when it can take you on a journey you didn’t know you needed.
The menu is simple, delicious, and unpretentious. My favorites are their kimchi pajeon, dolsot bibimbap with tofu, and their very famous kalbi tang even though I don’t eat red meat. The dolsot bibimbap is generously filled with banchans that my umma would make at home, kimchi pajeon is perfectly crispy on the outside and burn your tongue hot as you take the first bite, and kalbi tang is the best I have had in town. You can taste the sincerity in each dish, depth in aroma, not compromising Korean flavors for anyone.
Dishes at Kang's
Meals at Kang’s are a giant hug that remind me not to be apologetic for being Korean. You just feel good being in there. Only if the lines weren’t so long with people waiting to be seated, you would want to sit and eat for hours. This is a spot my husband and I go to when we want a good home-cooked Korean meal or when we feel a bit weary and need some encouragement. It’s a place where you leave with your belly full and your spirits lighter.
Restaurants are often spaces of home for many Asian Americans. Whether it’s to eat food that tastes like home, hear the sounds of language that isn’t English, or seeing ahjummas and ahjussis who resemble our family members, the hustle and bustle of a restaurant is where we often find peace.
Korean restaurants are spaces where I often find solace and joy and I am grateful it’s here in Ann Arbor.