For about 10,000 won a person you get a bubbling pot of spicy pork rib stew, a fresh stone-pot of rice, and scorched-rice tea to finish. In a year when everything got more expensive, a meal like this almost feels like a glitch.
I’ve been coming here for years. The first few times, this was just a quiet neighborhood lunch spot where office workers in Seonhwa-dong came for a cheap home-style meal. It’s a different scene now.
Why it suddenly got busy
Not long ago the place showed up on the YouTube show Halmyeongsu (할명수) ep.291, a “Daejeon open-run restaurants” episode hosted by comedian Park Myung-soo. He’d already stuffed himself with bread from Sungsimdang earlier in the day, but he still cleaned out the whole pot and said something like, “this might be better than the places I know in Seoul.” After that video went up, write-ups about this spot flooded the Korean internet within days.
Watching it felt a little strange to me. Locals already knew you couldn’t get in here without a reservation, and now it’s gone fully nationwide. Nice for the owners, but I also worried the already-tricky reservation would get even harder.
The basics
The address is 13 Daejong-ro 517beon-gil, Jung-gu, Daejeon. It’s close to Jungangno Station and an easy walk from Sungsimdang, Daejeon’s famous bakery. Hours are 11:30 a.m. to 8 p.m. It used to run until 9 p.m. and close on Mondays; now it closes earlier, so don’t show up too late for dinner.
The phone number is 042-253-8882. The most important thing here is the reservation, and I’ll get to that in detail below.
📍 View Dulle Sikdang (둘레식당) on Google Maps →
The signature: spicy pork rib stew
The star dish is maeun dwaeji naembi galbi (매운돼지냄비갈비), a spicy pork rib stew. You order it for two or more, and it’s about 10,000 won per person. It comes in a humble aluminum pot, loaded with pork ribs, glass noodles, chewy rice cakes, and mushrooms.
It arrives mostly cooked, and you let it finish bubbling at the table. The sauce isn’t that fake ketchup sweetness — it’s a gochujang base, spicy with just a little sweetness at the end. They say they can adjust the heat, but the default is genuinely spicy. A heads-up for visitors: Korean “spicy” runs hot, and this is spicy even by local standards, so brace yourself if you’re not used to it. The friend I brought who can’t handle spice nearly teared up; I found it spicy-but-good and kept shoveling rice.
The pork is tender with no gamey smell, and the glass noodles soak up all that sauce. I could eat a bowl of just the noodles.
I still remember when this dish was 9,000 won a couple of years back — people called it “the 9,000-won happiness.” It’s 10,000 now. With the stone-pot rice and scorched-rice tea included, I still think it’s a fair price.
The real hero is the rice
After all these visits, I think the rice matters as much as the stew. You don’t get a plain bowl — you get a fresh dolsotbap (돌솥밥), rice cooked in a hot stone pot.
You scoop the rice into your bowl, and the owner pours hot water into the pot. The crust at the bottom turns into nurungji (누룽지) tea. When your mouth is on fire from the galbi, a spoonful of that toasty rice water is exactly what you want.
The portion is generous. Order for two and the rice feels like enough for two and a half, so three light eaters could manage. I always leave a little rice on purpose to save room for the nurungji.
Banchan like someone’s mom made it
When you sit down, the side dishes come out fast — nothing fancy, but you can taste the hand behind them. Lettuce geotjeori, cabbage wraps, stir-fried mushrooms, watery kimchi, rotating a little day to day. The kimchi is especially good, mild rather than sharp, which balances the spicy galbi nicely.
Beyond the galbi
This place actually started as a baekban (백반), a simple set-meal house. The first times I came, I was here for grilled fish and soybean stew, and those are all still on the menu.
The grilled fish (saengseon-gui, 생선구이) is 8,000 won and the portion is no joke. When I see the next table order it, I often wish I had too. When you book by phone, you can ask for either cheonggukjang (청국장, fermented soybean stew) or doenjang (된장) on the side.
The cheonggukjang is nutty and comforting. Grilled fish plus cheonggukjang really does taste like a meal set at home.
Jeyuk-bokkeum (제육볶음), stir-fried spicy pork, is also 10,000 won — sweet, spicy, and dangerous for your rice supply. On a day when the galbi feels like too much, jeyuk or budae-jjigae is a safe call.
There’s dongtae-jjigae (동태찌개, pollack stew) and budae-jjigae too. The pollack stew comes topped with water dropwort, clean and bright — a good hangover cure the morning after drinks.
You’ll also find braised hairtail and kimchi stew, while the gopchang hotpot and dak-dori-tang (braised spicy chicken) are reservation-only, so mention them ahead.
The reservation is everything
Honestly, if you don’t book, there’s a good chance you’ll be turned away. They take same-day phone reservations starting at 10 a.m., and weekday lunch slots are usually gone by around 10:30. Walk-ins almost never work, so don’t count on it.
It used to be that you could call anytime that day and still get a table. Now it fills up fast, and even more so since the Halmyeongsu episode. I usually call around 10:30 on the morning I plan to go and tell them my arrival time and what I want. If you’re late for your slot, it can be cancelled, so be on time.
One practical note for visitors: the staff don’t really speak English, but ordering isn’t hard. You can point at the menu and hold up fingers for how many. If you can get a Korean-speaking friend or your hotel to make the phone reservation for you, that solves the trickiest part.
Parking, payment, and a few tips
Parking is rough, I’ll be straight with you. There’s no dedicated lot — if you’re lucky you’ll grab one of a couple of spots in the alley out front. It’s easier to use the NC Department Store (Daejeon Jungangno) garage nearby or the Urideul Park public lot. If you’re combining this with a Sungsimdang run, buy your bread, leave it in the car, and walk over.
Cards are fine here, including international ones — Korea takes cards almost everywhere, so you don’t need much cash for this meal. And there’s no tipping culture in Korea; leaving a tip would just confuse the staff.
A few things worth knowing. The rice comes in a heavy pot, so refills are awkward — if you eat a lot, ask for extra rice when you book. For the nurungji tea, just ask the owner after you’ve scooped out your rice. If you’d rather sit at a table than on the floor, ask for a chair seat when reserving. Takeout generally isn’t offered; at most they’ll pack up leftover rice.
By the way, for getting around Korea, Google Maps walking and transit directions are unreliable here — use Naver Map or KakaoMap instead, and the Kakao T app for taxis.
The honest downsides
I won’t only gush, so here are the things to weigh.
One, if you’re sensitive about cleanliness, prepare yourself. The floor, the floor cushions, and the tableware aren’t always spotless. Come thinking of it as an old-school spot you visit for the food.
Two, the service can be brusque. At the lunch peak they’re slammed and you might get rushed, and the way they handle reservations can come off as blunt. The reservation rule isn’t clearly posted outside, so people do show up unaware and get turned away — which is exactly why I keep saying to call first.
Three, the floor seating isn’t heated, so it can be cold in winter. If you feel the cold, ask for a chair seat when you book.
Even with all that, I keep going back. I don’t know where else I’d get this kind of spread at this price. The food and value outweigh the rough edges for me. If you’re in Daejeon and your stomach feels heavy after all that Sungsimdang bread, this is a great spicy way to reset.
Getting there
13 Daejong-ro 517beon-gil, Jung-gu, Daejeon. Walkable from Jungangno Station and close to the main Sungsimdang bakery. If you drive, remember there’s no private lot — scope out the NC Department Store garage or the Urideul Park public lot in advance.