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On a recent Tuesday evening in Seoul, the Myeongdong branch of Bantianyao Kaoyu, a Chinese restaurant specialising in whole simmered fish dishes, is already filling up well before the dinner rush.<\/p>\n
Inside, large trays of whole simmered fish arrive one after another, each landing in a bath of deep-red chilli-laced broth, sending up a cloud of steam over the tables.<\/p>\n
Despite it only being 5.30pm \u2013 early enough at most restaurants to avoid the usual queues of hungry commuters \u2013 almost all of the seats have already been claimed by small groups of young diners leaning in close, adjusting burners, reaching for chopsticks and talking.<\/p>\n
What stands out is not just the food, but the sound.<\/p>\n
Orders are called out in Mandarin, replies come back in Korean and conversations move fluidly between the two. The overlap is constant, creating a unique atmosphere that feels increasingly familiar in parts of Seoul where Chinese restaurants cluster.<\/p>\n
Scenes like this would have been rare outside a handful of neighbourhoods just a few years ago. Today, they are part of a shift in how younger Koreans eat and where they choose to spend their evenings. Across Seoul, from the bustling neighbourhoods of Myeongdong, Hongdae and Gangnam to the streets around Konkuk University, Chinese restaurants are drawing crowds.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n