Koreana: Deliciously homemade

Koreana's freshly prepared fare, generous portions, reasonable prices make it a favorite: 3 stars out of 5

By Wendy Miller CONTRIBUTING RESTAURANT CRITIC

Koreana is like so many family-owned holes in the wall: The atmosphere, the restaurant's weak suit, is homemade, kitschy, a little bit bare with harsh lighting and knickknacks that don't really hang together.

That's OK, though, because also homemade are all the delicious dishes the place offers, making it easy to forgive -- no, actually overlook -- tacky wall hangings, and décor and seating that appear long overdue for rehab.

Greetings are robust and cheerful with smiles a mile wide. The muted music does not interfere with the sounds of chopping and sizzling coming from the kitchen. Whether you pick dumplings or noodles, soups or barbecue, for less than $15 a person you might take home a big bag of leftovers. But I recommend ordering smart and leaving empty-handed because everything is freshly prepared and best eaten that way.

One good dish for sharing is jem mon do ($9.95), tender steamed dumplings stuffed with beef; the sweet and salty dipping sauce is a great foil for the mildly seasoned ground meat. Another is a huge Korean pancake called pa jeon. More about that in a moment.

One specialty of Korean cuisine is dolsot bibimbap ($11.95), an architectural wonder in a cast-iron or stoneware pot of rice (go for the crust on the bottom) mounted with sweet and tangy barbecued beef, scattered with carrots, bean sprouts, zucchini and spinach, and topped with an over-easy egg that not only adds flavor but contributes a creamy mouthfeel when the yolk is punctured.

And, of course, like most entrees, this comes with panchan, the assortment of little condiments that vary day to day -- sometimes turnips and bean sprouts, or maybe tempeh and spinach, sometimes a mix, with or without chili flakes, they are the ideal enhancements of flavor and texture. The only constant is the ever-present kimchi, chopped leaves of spicy fermented cabbage.

On a winter night, nothing satisfies quite as much as a bowl -- really more like a tureen -- of noodle soup, in this case wool myeon ($10.95), with slippery slurping flour noodles, a subtle salty broth, a vegetable medley like in the bibimbap, and squid and shrimp.

But you don't need a cold evening to enjoy Korean noodles. One of the greatest pastas on earth is chap che ($11.95), an enormous serving of sensuously oily clear noodles, stir-fried with julienne of carrots, sliced scallions, mushrooms, onions, pork and a broadcasting of sesame seeds.

This makes a perfect lunch for two, washed down with some OB beer from Korea.

And speaking of lunch, here's the final anecdote to which I alluded earlier. It illustrates both the generosity of Koreana's portions and the seductiveness of the flavors.

I dropped in one Tuesday afternoon with a craving for Korea's formidable contribution to the pancake world, hae mul pa jeon ($12.95), a supple cross between a rich crepe and a frittata, with the texture of sponge cake, studded with scallions, onions, carrots, mushrooms and, in this case, chicken, with a "secret" sauce for dipping that suggested rice vinegar, soy sauce and sesame oil.

While alternating between reading my book and distracting myself with intermittent bites, I overheard the people behind me ask the server what I was eating. Since the pa jeon was huge (I hadn't even managed to eat half), I turned around with the plate and offered them a wedge or two, which they, with some hesitation, finally took.

After a couple bites, they instantly ordered their own.

Such are the charms of dining at Koreana.

A large dinner for two, including tax and beer but not tip, was about $45; a single lunch that would feed two or more was about $13.