If you ask around Goseong for makguksu, this name comes up almost every time.
It was featured on SBS’s Saengbangsong Today (생방송 투데이), and locals count it among the three big makguksu houses in the area.
All that attention means a line, even on weekdays.
The food matters, but honestly, how you handle the wait is half the experience here.
Basic info
Address: 10 Baekchon 1-gil, Toseong-myeon, Goseong-gun, Gangwon-do
Phone: 033-632-5422
Hours: 10:00 - 17:00
Closed: Tuesday and Wednesday
Break time: 13:55 - 14:10
Reservation: remote waitlist through the Tabling app
Closes early once ingredients run out
📍 View Baekchon Makguksu (백촌막국수) on Google Maps →
The place itself
It’s a converted country house, and it still looks the part.
A red sign catches your eye from a distance, and inside you take your shoes off and sit on the floor.
The menu is just two items: buckwheat noodles and boiled pork.
There’s no “cold broth or spicy mix” choice like most makguksu spots.
The noodles and the dongchimi broth (동치미, a cold radish-water kimchi) arrive separately, and you season the bowl yourself.
So the same dish ends up tasting a little different from table to table.
There’s no single right way to eat it, and that’s kind of the point.
The wait, and how to beat it
You can’t really talk about this place without the wait.
Twenty-plus groups ahead of you is normal even on a slow weekday afternoon, and on weekends or in summer the line starts before the doors open.
On busy days it can pass 200 groups.
The turnover runs somewhere around 30 to 50 groups an hour, so figure about an hour for every 30 groups ahead.
You’d think noodles would move fast, but orders come out in big batches, so you still wait a while after sitting down.
The only reservation method is the Tabling app.
The remote waitlist opens at 10:00 and you can’t move your slot later, so it pays to get in right at ten.
Log in and finish the email verification ahead of time, or a few lost minutes can bump your number way back.
The easy thing to miss is the check-in.
When you reach the restaurant, you tap the confirmation code to verify you’re actually there.
Skip that and your turn passes you by, so do it as soon as you arrive.
Getting there and parking
It sits in a small village in Toseong-myeon, right by Gyoam Beach.
From central Sokcho it’s about a 25-minute drive.
There’s parking right at the restaurant, but it fills fast and the staff usually wave you toward the lot down the hill.
The real lot is about 200 meters below, across from the Toseong Nonghyup Hanaro Mart.
It’s roomy, so parking itself isn’t the headache here.
If you’re traveling without a car, Google Maps is unreliable for transit and walking directions in Korea.
Naver Map or KakaoMap work far better, and the Kakao T app is the easy way to grab a taxi.
The noodles and the broth
The noodles stand out right away because they’re noticeably thin.
The buckwheat content is high, so instead of chewy they snap cleanly, and a nutty buckwheat aroma builds as you chew.
Even people who find thick buckwheat noodles heavy tend to slurp these down easily.
The real star is the dongchimi.
It comes in a big bowl with thin ice still floating on top.
Sip it plain and it’s cold and tangy with a clean finish.
There’s a deep savory note underneath, as if dried pollack stock went into the pickling, without any fishy edge.
There’s no fixed order for eating it.
Start with just a little dongchimi poured over for a mild, brothy bowl.
Add a drizzle of perilla oil and a pinch of sugar for something nuttier.
Later, stir in the seasoning paste, mustard, and chili for a spicier mix.
A common move is to eat half mixed, then pour dongchimi over the rest for a cold-broth finish.
One small letdown: the noodles come with a quarter of a boiled egg, which feels a bit stingy.
Portions aren’t generous either, so if you eat well, order the large (gopbaegi) from the start.
Pyeonyuk and pollack salad
The pyeonyuk, sliced boiled pork, is worth adding.
It comes out warm, tender, and free of any porky smell.
The slices are thick, with a balanced ratio of fat to lean, so even the fat doesn’t feel greasy.
Just as important is the myeongtae-hoemuchim, a seasoned pollack side.
It’s honestly the unsung star of the meal.
It isn’t spicy or sharp, more lightly sweet and fragrant, and it works on the pork and in the noodles alike.
The white kimchi and young radish kimchi are clean and mild, made without chili powder.
A slice of pork with some kimchi and pollack on top is a great bite.
The sides and the dongchimi are refillable too; you just carry your empty dish to the kitchen counter.
Good to know
Anyone age ten and up has to order their own bowl of noodles, and there are no add-on orders once you’ve ordered.
So think it through the first time.
Even the large is only about 1.5 times a regular, and the big pyeonyuk feeds three or four, so for two people a large plus one gopbaegi works better.
Two people with two bowls and a small pyeonyuk lands around 50,000 won.
Ordering is simple even without Korean, since the menu is just two items you can point at.
Cards are fine here, as at almost every restaurant in Korea, and there’s no tipping; leaving a tip would only confuse the staff.
None of this food is spicy, so it’s an easy meal for most visitors.
The floor seating can be tough on your knees.
The restroom is a shared one outside the building, so it’s smart to go before you get in line.
It’s an old country house, so expect some worn edges.
Final thoughts
This isn’t a place that wins you over with bold, punchy flavor.
It leans quiet and keeps the flavors understated, so if you like a clean, mild broth it’ll land, and if you want something rich and strong it might read as plain.
Waiting hours for a bowl of noodles can feel like a lot, and an hour is precious on a short trip.
But if you use the remote waitlist well and pair it with nearby Gyoam Beach or the Cheonhakjeong pavilion, the wait becomes part of the day instead of derailing it.
It shines more as one stop on a Goseong route than as a destination on its own.
Go in with that framing, and a bowl of that mild dongchimi tends to stay with you afterward, the kind of place you end up coming back to.
Directions are on the map below.