I took my mom to Corridor 109 a couple weeks ago, to thank her for some recent halmoni heroics. I…read morefigured she might be interested in a second-generation Korean American chef with a Michelin-starred restaurant a mile from her house. Corridor has eleven seats and opens three nights a week, with one service on Thursdays and Fridays and two on Saturdays. The reservations are not hard, but you probably can't get them for, say, next weekend. I made mine about a month in advance.
I'd been to Bar 109 a few times and was already familiar with the set-up, with the bar in front and the restaurant in back (though I was pleasantly surprised by the parking spots for Corridor customers in the adjoining gas station lot). The restaurant had the same sleek, upscale, contemporary aesthetic as the bar, but it was quieter and a bit more austere, the better to highlight the open kitchen at its center. All eleven seats were arranged in a counter surrounding the kitchen, which Chef Brian Baik commanded like a stage.
Dinner at Corridor is a genuine production, an elaborate multi-course meal with every dish cooked and assembled by the chef himself, with some assistance from a very small team. He was on his feet, fully occupied, for every second of that three-hour service. It was fascinating to watch him work, and to see these incredible dishes come together right in front of us. Service was fantastic, friendly, informative, and skillfully orchestrated. My mom and I split a beverage pairing, which came with a sake, a champagne, three white wines, and one red, all lovely and well matched to the food.
Everything was wildly delicious, the menu built around top quality seafood, meticulously prepared. First up was the ebi, a spot prawn and mullet roe tartlet with finger lime and wasabi on a konbu-infused shell. This was followed by the ara, a sashimi dish of saw-edged perch with ensui uni, finished with citrus soy gelée, chive, ginger, and shiso flowers. Then came the iwashi, a Corridor signature and easily the best sardine toast I've had in my life. The sardine was perfect, fatty and flavorful, with a kiss of charcoal, draped over a buttery rectangle of toast with pickled red pepper and aioli.
As a little bonus, we got kisu, or Japanese whiting, tempura. Not listed on the menu, served simply with lemon and sea salt. Then crispy-skinned Jeju akamutsu, rosy seabass with satsuima, garlic chive, and a drizzle of concentrated crab bouillabaise. The tomato clam broth with somen was a cold noodle dish, summery and refreshing, with a pleasant bounce to the noodles. The ji-kinmedai was a dish of pink-skinned golden eye snapper, gently grilled and served with pickled chrysanthemum flower and a peppery yamaimo sauce. Chef Brian introduced the maguro as another house signature. It was a brilliant piece of Los Angeles fusion, a silky slice of bluefin tuna over a twirl of pesto spaghetti.
Next, the managatsuo, a delicate piece of silver pomfret immersed in a gentle fish broth swimming with seaweed. Then our last seafood dish, a creamy clam and uni risotto topped with a sliver of grilled tachiuo, or beltfish. This was the gohan course, with a side of Japanese-style cucumber pickles. After that, we had wagyu. Two mouthwatering, meltingly tender slices, cooked just enough, served with shiitake mushroom and preserved hana sansho, these little green sansho pepper flowers.
Two desserts, straightforward and spectacular. A scoop of lush mango sorbet over a bit of rum cream, then a wedge of crown musk melon, drippingly ripe and fragrant. Finally, a cup of hojicha.
Chef Brian greeted everyone at the end of the night, and we enjoyed talking to both him and his wife Elizabeth, who was part of the team. Back in 2015, my mom and I sat down with Brian's father, Keum-Rin Baik, owner of Kobawoo House, who gave me an interview for a piece I was writing on Koreatown (my mom was there to translate). As is customary, he bragged about his son. He told me Brian had graduated from USC Business School, then gone to culinary school, and then to work at Bouley. He said Brian used to insist on making his own steaks when he was in elementary school, and that more recently, the two of them had gone to French Laundry together. It was so nice to meet this remarkable chef so many years later, in his own restaurant named in part for his father's restaurant (109 is Kobawoo's suite number). I felt weirdly proud of him.
If you're looking for a phenomenal dinner in Los Angeles, Corridor 109 is my first recommendation. I look forward to coming back, and in the meantime, will skulk around right outside at Bar 109.