What to Eat in Busan

Busan’s coastal setting shapes a cuisine built on seafood, sturdy broths, and noodles suited to humid summers and breezy, milder winters. Markets and alleys support a strong snacking culture alongside home-style meals centered on rice, kimchi, and seasonal banchan.

Locals eat pragmatically: hot soups and grilled foods for energy, chilled bowls for heat relief, and portable street snacks between errands. The port history brought diverse techniques—fish processing, flour-based doughs, and pickling—into everyday cooking.

Dwaeji gukbap is a slow-simmered pork bone and meat soup served with a separate bowl of rice that diners tip directly into the broth. Cooks boil pork femurs, trotters, and neck bones for hours until the stock turns milky, then add thinly sliced su-yuk (poached pork), scallions, crushed garlic, and offer seasonings like saeujeot (salted shrimp), gochugaru, and chives at the table. The flavor is savory, slightly sweet from marrow, and customizable—from clean and gentle to peppery—while the texture combines tender pork slices and soft rice suspended in a rich, emulsified broth. Historically, the dish expanded in Busan’s post-war years as an affordable, calorie-dense meal for dockworkers and market porters, reflecting the city’s working-class rhythms. It’s eaten year-round at any hour, but especially in the morning or late at night, when a filling, warming bowl aligns with the port’s early starts and long shifts.

Milmyeon adapts the chilled noodle tradition to Busan’s climate and history, using wheat flour blended with starch (often sweet potato) to create a springy noodle. The dough is kneaded, extruded to order, and dropped into boiling water, then rinsed until cold and served in tangy, chilled beef or chicken broth, with julienned cucumber, pickled radish, sliced meat, and a half egg. Diners mix in vinegar and mustard for brightness, and sometimes a spoon of gochujang sauce for a sweet-heat edge; the result is snappy noodles in a clean, slightly sweet-sour broth with crunchy vegetables. Milmyeon took hold in Busan when wheat became more available mid-20th century, allowing refugees and locals to recreate naengmyeon-like bowls without buckwheat. It’s a hot-weather mainstay but popular all year, offered as a quick lunch or a cooling relief after spicy grilled seafood or late-night snacks.

Busan is closely associated with eomuk, a fish cake made from minced white fish (surimi, often Alaska pollock or similar), mixed with salt, sugar, a little wheat flour or starch, and aromatics like onion or carrot, then shaped and deep-fried. Street vendors simmer folded slabs on skewers in a kelp‑anchovy broth, handing them over with hot soup, and offering condiments such as mild mustard, soy mixtures, or spicy sauces. Good eomuk is bouncy yet tender, with a clean, oceanic sweetness from the broth and a faint toastiness from the fry; the soup warms the hands on cool, windy days by the sea. The product grew with Busan’s fish-processing capacity and port logistics, which ensured steady supplies of ground fish and drying facilities. Eomuk is eaten as a between-meal snack, a late-night bite, or a light breakfast on the go, with broth refills that keep the body warm in colder months.

Ssiat hotteok takes the classic yeasted hotteok dough—flour, water, sugar, and yeast—and presses it on a griddle until crisp, then slits the pancake to pack in a mix of roasted seeds and nuts. Vendors typically use sunflower and pumpkin seeds with crushed peanuts, sesame, and a cinnamon‑brown sugar syrup that melts into a sticky, nutty filling; some add a spoon of grain powder for extra aroma. The contrast defines the bite: crackly exterior, chewy crumb, and a warm cascade of syrup and seeds that is sweet but rounded by roasted flavors. Busan popularized this seed‑laden version in the late 20th century, building on the broader hotteok tradition introduced from Chinese merchants generations earlier. It’s a winter favorite because the hot, handheld snack counters sea breezes, yet locals also grab it year‑round as a dessert or walkabout treat in busy shopping streets.

Dongnae pajeon is a substantial scallion pancake linked to Busan’s historic Dongnae area, distinguished by long green onions and a generous mix of seafood. A batter of wheat and rice flour, water, and egg is poured over arranged scallions, then topped with mussels, shrimp, clams, or oysters before being pan‑fried in oil until the edges turn crisp and the center stays tender. Dipped in cho‑ganjang (soy sauce mixed with vinegar and chili), it tastes savory and lightly briny, with layers of scallion sweetness and a slightly chewy, custardy interior. Local lore ties the dish to Dongnae’s role as an administrative center in the Joseon era, and it appears in regional food writing as a specialty served for guests and community gatherings. Today it’s an all-weather favorite but is especially associated with rainy days, paired with makgeolli as an anju, or shared during weekend family meals when markets carry fresh shellfish.

Busan’s cuisine balances sea and hearth: clean broths, briny seafood, sturdy noodles, and smart street snacks shaped by a working port and humid summers. The city prizes customization—table condiments, mix‑ins, and seasonal swaps—so diners tune flavor to mood and weather. Explore more regional food guides and plan climate‑savvy trips on Sunheron.com.