On a chilly fall night in
Kalamazoo, Mich., the big, blue front doors of a small Korean restaurant on
Westnedge Avenue open to reveal all the coziness of a homey living room. An
open sign blinks in the window. “You okay?” the balding restaurant owner, Mr.
Lee, asked a group of customers one night with a smile and a nod. He placed
three Styrofoam cups of barley tea on a yellowed table. The reddish-brown,
nutty tea replaces chilled water on tables at Lee’s Garden Bibimbop in
Kalamazoo. The food is delivered with packets of cutlery that add to the
restaurant’s quaint feel: a paper napkin, mismatched silver spoon and fork, and
chopsticks. A quick glance around the restaurant reveals chopsticks feverishly
dipping and diving into dishes from bibimbop
to bulgogi.
While the rice and beef based
dishes at Lee’s Garden are delicious, and entrees between seven and nine
dollars are reasonably priced, the food might not be enough by itself to make
this restaurant a Kalamazoo favorite. Instead, Mr. Lee’s warm charm adds just
enough to the dining experience to make every meal special. With their silent,
but caring service, he and his wife make patrons feel like they’re at a quiet
dinner party—one where the hosts are just as fascinating as the food.
Mr. Lee and his wife work together
in the kitchen and the dining room. It’s clear that Lee’s Garden isn’t just a
place of work for Mr. and Mrs. Lee. Pamphlets for Hosanna Church, a Korean
American Presbyterian Church, sit on the counter next to menus. Christian
worship music plays on a speaker somewhere in the restaurant and makes it feel
more and more like a small, urban church; three windows are outfitted with deep
colored stained glass.
Outfitted in a blue apron with
green trim, Mr. Lee carries orders of mandoo
dumplings on red cafeteria trays with individual servings of soy sauce.
These shiny fried dumplings with a bubbly golden skin are a must-order for any
Lee’s patron. The crescent shaped appetizers are filled with pork, green onion,
and garlic and are easy to pinch between chopsticks. “Three for each of you,”
he said one night as he set the plates at a booth in a corner. Five girls
ordered the appetizer: ten dumplings for $4.99. Instead, the ceramic plate held
fifteen. The girls didn’t pay for the dumplings anyway. “The mandoo is free,” said Mr. Lee with a
grin when the girls went to the counter after their meal.
The sweet service found at Lee’s
Garden makes it a restaurant worth returning to. Mr. Lee personally serves each
table. The pink, leathery booths and the gray metal chairs scattered around
tables in the white dining room might seem lonely if not for Mr. Lee’s
attentive, yet relaxed and customized service. He is present, but not
overbearing. On one night, only three couples dined in the restaurant between
6:00 and 7:45. At other restaurants, one might wonder why more diners didn’t
arrive, but the dining room at Lee’s still felt full.
Mr. Lee quietly helped the customers
decide what to order and almost silently delivered their food. He hovered at
one table for a moment to watch the first bites of a dish, but then quickly
disappeared with a swish of his blue apron to join his wife in the kitchen.
While not a chatty member of the dinner party, Mr. Lee brings a lot to the
table.
He delivers each meal item as soon
as his wife finishes cooking it in the kitchen to make sure each plate, bowl,
and cup is hot and fresh in diners’ mouths. Customers are meant to eat as
they’re served. The first bite of mandoo
might surprise a first-time customer when a scalding green onion or bit of pork
lands on the tongue with a spray of hot oil or grease.
In fact, almost everything at Lee’s
is warm but the kimchi. A bowl of
this spicy fermented cabbage comes with each entrée the same way fries and
potato chips casually accompany burgers and sandwiches at other restaurants. Though
this dish is sometimes considered one of the spiciest in the world, Mr. Lee
delivers it to each table without warning of the potential burn first-time kimchi eaters could experience from
their seemingly tame and strangely chilled bowls. Several pieces of yellowed
cabbage are soaked in red sauce and packed into each side serving.
Some diners pinch a piece of
cabbage between chopsticks and shake off the sauce in the hopes of reducing the
intense flavor. One might call kimchi an
acquired taste, delicious after the mouth is numb to the spice. Experienced diners add some rice to
dilute the heat in this sour and salty side. The red kimchi sauce drips down the side of the bowls and mixes with soy
sauce and white rice on the tables as meals at Lee’s continue.
The spicy, sour kimchi contrasts with the sweet, sesame,
barbecue taste of the bulgogi entrée.
After a few bites of kimchi, customers
might expect this dish to be similarly spicy. Instead, bulgogi at Lee’s Garden is a pleasantly sweet surprise. It is a
must-order for any diner. Narrow strips of beef are heaped into a bowl and
mixed with chopped onions, peas, and carrots and left to marinate on a wooden
board with a full bowl of white rice on the side. The sauce tastes like sesame
paste and soy sauce and diners don’t let the sweetness go to waste; some sop
the extra up with their rice.
The strips of beef in bulgogi, tender, moist, and soaked in
broth, offer a pleasant contrast to one of the most disappointing dishes at
Lee’s. The fatty, chewy chunks of
chopped beef in jobchebop are mixed
with tough, half-baked carrots and rice noodles beside a mound of oily rice. On
a table cluttered with small bowls of spicy kimchi,
plates of bulgogi, and a large dish
of yukgaegang soup, the plate of jobchebop might be left nearly full. The
greasy and bland flavors of this dish don’t match the rich flavors of the other
plates and bowls. Still, this steaming plate may offer a subtle, nearly bland
introduction to Korean cuisine for diners whose taste buds aren’t quite ready
for kimchi.
Lee’s Garden is not a restaurant
for customers whose stomachs are already full. It’s almost obligatory to order
appetizers ranging from $2.99 for five mandoo
dumplings to $9.95 for a kimchijeon pancake
platter and entrées with rice and kimchi
between $7.95 and $12.99. Each portion is large enough for one person, though
many customers order a few entrées to share. In fact, the full plates and bowls
at Lee’s Garden are best that way. No matter what the order, Mr. Lee’s friendly
allure leaves most customers happy, full, and ready to return to this small,
blue restaurant.
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