Andamiro Brings a Rare, Soul-Soothing Korean Dish to Park Slope

By Scott Lynch

Andamiro is located at 276 Fifth Avenue, between First Street and Garfield Place, and is currently open for lunch on Wednesday through Sunday from 11:30 a.m. to 3:00 p.m., and for dinner on Wednesday, Thursday, and Sunday from 5:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m., and on Friday and Saturday from 5:00 to 9:30

Easy prediction: the gukbap I had last week at Andamiro, Suho Lee’s nifty little Korean restaurant that opened last fall in Park Slope, will be one of the best dishes I eat all year. Seriously, for its remarkable complexity of flavors, for its deeply comforting vibes, and for its fun presentation that had me grinning as soon as it hit the table, the gukbap here is a total winner.

At its core, gukbap is essentially just a bowl of soup, and, as Lee told Brooklyn Magazine, it’s everywhere in Korea. It’s served from carts in the street, as a staple in homes, and in fine dining restaurants. And, sure, you can get versions of the dish scattered here and there around New York City, but Lee, who grew up in Suwon, near Seoul, and moved to Downtown Brooklyn in 2013, was frustrated by its relative scarcity here.

So when he took the plunge and signed the lease last year for his first solo restaurant, Lee knew he wanted to make the dish central to the experience here on Fifth Avenue. After all, Andamiro “is a pure Korean name, and it means you fill until you overfill,” Lee said, which is exactly what I did—gleefully, gloriously—the other night.

Beef gukbap, $25 (Photo by Scott Lynch)

The gukbap at Andamiro is offered in a choose-your-own-adventure style. For the broth, your choices are beef (very good, and unexpectedly milky-looking), chicken (also milky-looking, and shockingly rich and delicious), and soy and sesame (vegan, and probably good, but I didn’t try it). For your starch, you can get rice or noodles, and, though I’m usually Team Noodle in a situation like this, it seemed foolish not to go with the grains after Lee informed me that “guk means soup and bap means rice.”

Your meat can be chicken or beef, the latter of which was tender with some funk, or go vegan with tofu and mushrooms. And the sauces, served on the side to be deployed at will, are all fantastic. But if I had to rank them, it would go like this: 1. the earthy doenjang, 2. the fiery chili, 3. the spicy and lightly sweet gochujang, 4. the tangy kimchi.

It all arrives in separate bowls, crocks, and pots laid out on a tray. You assemble it yourself, bite by bite or the whole dang thing at once, and, instantly, your meal feels like a little party. If, for some reason, you don’t like parties, just order the maybe less fun, but likely still satisfying, braised beef (su-yok) or red chicken (dak bulgogi) entrees.

Assorted banchan, $6; root vegetable chips, $7 (Photo by Scott Lynch)

Lee also serves up a tight selection of shareable snacks, including assorted seasonal banchan, a pile of thin, crisp root vegetable chips with a peanutty dip, beef tartare with pickled mustard seed, and skewered shiitake.

Shiitake skewers, $8 (Photo by Scott Lynch)

My two favorites from this section were also the heftiest: a lovely kimchi jeon topped with watercress and pickled onions; and, especially, the tteok galbi, a pair of fatty, heavily-seasoned beef patties with a creamy and insanely garlicky dredging sauce.

Kimchi jeon, $9 (Photo by Scott Lynch)

Tteok galbi, $15 (Photo by Scott Lynch)

The layout of the place is the same as when Naruto Ramen lived here, with a long counter up front overlooking the kitchen, and a small dining area with generic wooden tables in the back. The decor is minimalist, and Lee said he imported the curtains and other design items from Korea (and got slammed by tariffs). Also Korean is Andamiro’s booze, with a list that includes soju, makgeolli, and cheongju.

“I love the vibe of Park Slope,” said Lee. “And I love seeing people eat my food. I want to serve the neighborhood affordable food, but still have authenticity. That’s my motivation now.”