Here’s something you don’t see often at a pasta place: people line up for the salad.
That’s Cheongchun Kitchen (청춘키친) in Sangnam-dong, Changwon. A 9,900-won salad, and people wait an hour for it.
The basics
The address is 7 Madimi-ro 10beon-gil, Seongsan-gu, Changwon-si, and the phone number is 055-602-1150.
Hours run 11:30-22:00, with a long break from 15:00 to 17:00. The thing that trips people up is the last-order cutoff: lunch orders stop at 14:20 (14:40 on weekends), dinner orders at 20:40. Closed Mondays.
📍 View Cheongchun Kitchen (청춘키친) on Google Maps →

Getting a table
The restaurant appeared on Ttoganjip (또간집), a Korean food show hosted by the comedian Pungja, and the line got noticeably longer afterward. It was already famous in Sangnam-dong for its lines, though. The show didn’t create the line; it just made it longer.
There are two separate ways to get on the list, and they open at different times.
The first is Tabling (테이블링), a Korean waitlist app that lets you join remotely. It opens at 11:30, the same moment the doors open, so there’s no getting ahead of it. The second is the tablet by the front door, where you register in person. That one starts earlier: 11:00 for lunch, 15:30 for dinner.
So if you want the first seating, showing up at 11:00 and registering in person beats waiting for the app. On weekend lunches the remote list can fill within half an hour of opening.
Weekend lunch often means ten or more groups ahead of you, which works out to an hour or more. On a weekday evening between 18:00 and 19:00, expect about ten groups. Weekday lunch is easy, and you can sometimes walk straight in. The last hour before closing also thins out.
Turnover is quick, at least. There are only about ten tables, but orders go through a tablet and the kitchen is open to the room, so the flow never breaks.
One warning about that break time. The dining room closes at 15:00, but the kitchen stops taking lunch orders at 14:20. Rolling in at 14:30 thinking you have time is how people end up walking away hungry.

The Cheongchun Salad
This is what people come for.
It’s 9,900 won and arrives in a wooden bowl big enough that people photograph it next to a soda can for scale. Inside are greens, chicken breast, shrimp, kabocha squash, nuts, and bow-tie pasta mixed through. It isn’t one of those bowls that’s mostly greens with a salad label on it.
The temperature contrast is a nice touch. The greens come out cold and the chicken and shrimp come out warm, so a single forkful gives you both.
A server carries the bowl to your table and grinds cheese over it in front of you, and you watch it pile up white. They’re generous with it, and asking for extra gets you more than you’d expect.
The dressing is yogurt-and-mayo-based — sweet and nutty, not sharp. Because it stays mild, you can still taste the squash and the nuts underneath. It goes down easily even if you never order salad.

Cheongchun Chitteok
Also 9,900 won. It’s tteokbokki (Korean rice cakes) buried under melted cheese, but with shrimp, kabocha and spaghetti noodles thrown in, so a single pan works as a full meal.
Now, about the spice. Korean food often catches visitors off guard with how hot it gets. This dish has the opposite problem: it’s more sweet than spicy. Kids love it, but adults looking for real tteokbokki heat will find it tame, maybe even too sweet. If you came to Korea wanting the fiery version, this isn’t the place to test yourself.

The rest of the menu
The mushroom gorgonzola gnocchi is 12,900 won. The gnocchi are big — one piece fills your mouth — and the cream sauce is rich enough that two people should share one order if heavy sauces get to you.

Chicken fried rice at 7,900 won shows off what this place does well: big chunks of chicken, rice that stays loose and separate, and enough neutrality to pair with anything saucy. The shrimp and webfoot octopus fried rice costs the same and comes loaded with seafood.
The beef lasagna is 12,900 won — more a meat-sauce bake than a layered lasagna, with plenty of beef in it.
The pasta dishes are fine. The seafood tomato spaghetti tastes like familiar tomato spaghetti, and the bacon cream sauce is the right thickness. The shrimp rosé, 10,900 won, doesn’t skimp. But the pasta alone would not justify the line. This is a well-run neighborhood place, not a pasta destination.

Atmosphere and service
The kitchen is open, so you watch your food get made and hear the pans going. Vintage odds and ends and warm wood fill the room, and the lighting is soft. It’s a date place that doesn’t take itself too seriously.
The servers here have a reputation for being kind even when they’re slammed. If part of your group hasn’t arrived, someone will come ask whether you’d like the food now or later.
There’s a self-serve corner with sliced white bread, pickles, pickled radish, water, napkins, and hot sauce. Use the bread to mop up the gnocchi or lasagna sauce. There’s a coat rack too, useful in winter.
One thing to know: there’s no restroom inside the restaurant. You use the shared one in the building.

Practical notes for visitors
You order from a tablet at your table and pay on the way out, not before. Any foreign card goes through, and nobody here expects a tip — leaving one would just puzzle the staff.
English isn’t really spoken, but the tablet has photos, so pointing at what you want is enough.
Google Maps will find the restaurant, but don’t trust it for walking or transit directions in Korea — Naver Map or KakaoMap are far better for those. KakaoT is the taxi app locals use, and a short ride within Changwon runs a few thousand won.
The sign out front is small, so first-timers usually circle the block once. Look for a vintage-looking storefront.
Parking
There’s room for two or three cars directly in front, and those spots are essentially always taken. The paid lot across the street, Sangnam Parking Lot, validates one hour. There’s another paid public lot next door.
If you’re driving with other people, drop someone off to join the waitlist first while the rest of you park. Don’t lose your place in line while you circle for a spot.
Takeout works too. Call ahead, order, ask when it’ll be ready, and pick it up without parking. It’s the realistic way around the line.
What two people spend
Portions are large, so two people don’t need much. One Cheongchun Salad plus one main is enough, and that’s around 20,000 won total.
Three people ordering three dishes will usually have leftovers. Figure the chitteok pan alone feeds about one and a half people.

Meals run about 30 to 40 minutes — far less time than the wait.
Fourteen years in
The place opened in 2012. In a neighborhood like Sangnam-dong, where businesses turn over constantly, that’s a long run.
It moved to this location once, and the wait got longer after the move. The ordering changed too. It used to hand out a vintage paper booklet menu, but as crowds grew and order-taking slowed down, they brought in table tablets so orders wouldn’t back up.
What hasn’t changed is the pricing. Regulars from before the move can barely tell the difference, which is remarkable given how much everything else has gone up. The portions didn’t shrink to compensate either.

Worth it or not
This is a pasta restaurant where the salad won.
It depends on the wait. Under 30 minutes, go. Nothing else in Changwon puts out this much fresh food at this price, and the fast turnover means ingredients don’t sit around.
Over an hour, adjust your expectations. You’re going for value, not for the best thing you’ll eat in Korea. The pasta is unremarkable, the chitteok is divisive because of the sweetness, and the restroom situation is a minor annoyance.
The salad alone is worth the line. This is a place people keep coming back to for years, not somewhere you visit once and cross off. If you can swing a weekday lunch, that’s when it’s at its best.
Finding it
It sits on a side street off the main Sangnam-dong strip. Lotte Department Store is within walking distance, so if the wait is long you can register, wander the mall, and come back. Plenty of cafes and bars nearby for afterward.
