H Mart and Jagalchi have their charms, but I'd rather eat at this Bay Area Korean market

San Francisco Chronicle​

01-05-2025

The Bay Area caught Jagalchi fever. When the 75,000-square foot Korean grocery store/bakery/restaurant/food hall opened in March, lines stretched around the building. There were security guards managing traffic flow. There were camping chairs. And, once inside, there were not enough mandu and sulpang to meet demand.
Less than two miles north, a very different scene could be found at another Korean market, also conveniently located off 280. Ajummas browsed the produce section at a leisurely pace, carefully inspecting each piece of fruit before making their selection, while families gathered around galbi platters and bubbling stews at the on-site restaurant. The only line I waited in was at the checkout counter. There was one person ahead of me.
Long before Jagalchi and H Mart came to the Bay Area, there was Kukje Supermarket. Haesoo Park opened the original Kukje, little more than a corner store, on Noriega Street in San Francisco in 1990. Twelve years later, he pounced on the opportunity to take over a Safeway in Daly City. He would be able to expand, serve customers on the Peninsula tired of the trek to Korean markets in San Jose and even open a dine-in restaurant.
Despite Jagalchi's array of kiosks serving everything from technicolor fruity drinks to rose tteokbokki in a bread bowl, I'll choose Kukje nine times out of 10 if I'm looking for a meal. Jagalchi is photogenic and fun, with light flooding through skylights and cases that display not only containers of grab-and-go tuna sushi, but also the head of said tuna, awaiting its final undignified photo op. Kukje has none of that. The floors of the grocery store are tiled with a patchwork of linoleum, and instead of skylights, the restaurant has overhead recessed lighting and TV screens.
But where Jagalchi cannot compete is in the category of soul food — warming soups and stews like cloudy, fortifying seolleongtang ($19.95) and spicy, beefy yukgaejang ($24.95). Annie Kim, Kukje's social media manager and Park's niece, says both are favorites of the old timers who do their shops in the morning. But first, they'll sit down and sup.
The earthenware bowls of soup are popular with solo shoppers, but the families that crowd into the restaurant on Sundays after church go large format, and if you're bringing a crew to Daly City, you should follow their lead. While there are more spectacular galbijjims in the Bay Area (see: Daeho), it's hard to argue with a heaping mound of fork-tender short ribs and veggies, smothered in melty cheese and bejeweled with jujubes ($84 for a full portion, $52 for half). For a dish that's more economical, opt for the jokbal ($39). As the family-sized portion of pork trotters approaches your table, it will sound like the sizzling platter is giving you a raucous round of applause for ordering so wisely. The accompanying sauce is tangy sweet, the gelatinous outer layer of meat melt-in-your-mouth.
For me, the highlight of every meal at Kukje is the sundubu-jjigae ($19.95), a stew loaded with soft, silky tofu. There are 10 different kinds, ranging from a vegetarian option with zucchini and mushrooms to one with ramyun for noodle soup lovers to, my favorite, a briny seafood stew with tiny shrimps. All arrive bubbling hot with banchan and a raw egg on the side. Crack it directly into the earthenware bowl and watch the white turn cloudy before your eyes.
There is one time of day that the lines at Kukje rival those at Jagalchi during opening weekend. At 7 p.m., grocery employees pull out rolls of neon orange stickers and mark down most of the sushi and deli foods by 50%. Everything must go — kimchi fried rice, tofu kimbap, links of blood sausage, crispy chicken wings. Naively, I arrived one evening at 7:15 to take advantage of the deals. The deli section was a wasteland, the sushi counter completely empty. Shoppers in the know arrive around 6:45 or even 6:30 and make their selections before they complete their grocery shop. At the stroke of 7:00, Kukje employees make their way through the checkout line, applying the orange stickers to discounted goods.
Fifty-percent-off deals aside, grocery prices at Kukje Supermarket are, in general, higher than at Jagalchi, which deals in bigger volumes. A just-add-water bowl of Buldak ramen is $2 at Jagalchi, $3.49 at Kukje. Napa cabbage is $1 per pound at Jagalchi as opposed to $1.29 at Kukje. It feels like the difference between shopping at a big box store — albeit a very glamorous big box store — and making a quick trip to the local mom-and-pop grocery.
Kim, the social media manager at Kukje, agrees that H Mart and Jagalchi are exciting to visit, but she paints Kukje as a pillar of the local Korean community. 'The regulars can vouch that we care about each customer,' she told me, recalling her time working at the family grocery store with a mix of pride and slight exasperation. 'We listen to every complaint. 'I'm sorry, grandma, that the peaches didn't live up to your expectations.''
In the weeks since its opening, the craze over Jagalchi has subsided somewhat. There were no lines on a recent weekday visit, and the pristine display cases were adequately, if not fully, stocked. I sipped on a black sesame latte while I shopped for fancy Jeju citrus jam and Dubai chocolate. It was exceedingly pleasant. But if you're hungry for more than an Instagrammable shopping experience? It's Kukje all the way.
Noise level: Quiet to moderate
Meal for two, without drinks: $40-$60
What to order: Soft tofu soups ($19.95), jokbal ($39)
Drinks: Beer, soju and soft drinks
Best practices: The soft tofu soups, or sundubu-jjigae, are the stars of Kukje's on-site restaurant. If you want to take advantage of the half-price deli items and sushi, make sure to arrive before 7 p.m.