The Grill of your Dreams

Korean BBQ Gaya fires it up in Blue Bell.

by Elisa Ludwig

Michael T. Regan A PERFECT CIRCLE: Meat and veggies sizzle on one of Gaya's DIY table grills. Surrounding the grill are banchan, or small complimentary starters. (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

There was always a sad elegance about the enormous building that once housed Johnny Cross' restaurant (and, for a briefer time, Savory Grill) on Skippack Pike in Blue Bell. It was one of those old estates that had somehow survived decades of land-hungry developers but looked, to the passing car, almost stranded there on the side of the road — a relic that the suburbs forgot.

Recently, that building has been given new life and a sense of purpose — as an Asian eating complex. A new stucco-faced porte-cochere and a smooth-tiled hallway lead to a host who will prompt you with your options: straight ahead to banquet rooms, left to the Japanese restaurant Asuka or right to Gaya, the Korean restaurant on which this review will focus.

The incredible transformation of this space cannot be overstated. The old drop ceiling, wide expanses of carpeting and hefty portions of prime rib have been replaced by freshly painted walls in warm, neutral colors, smooth wooden tables fitted with recessed barbecue grills and decorative architectural artifacts. Clearly the whole complex is meant to serve the local Korean community, who are already here in droves, but there's also a commendable attempt to stay accessible to unpracticed non-Korean visitors: English explanations on the menu, assistance with the barbecue, warnings from servers about spiciness.

The teenage wait staff is cheerful and attentive, if a bit overzealous. We began a meal with something like three different people in attendance, but it quickly boiled down to one young man who explained his father was one of the owners and who seemed very interested in our feedback on the experience — even before we'd eaten anything.

At Gaya you can order beer, wine or a slender bottle of soju (rice wine). The latter has the power to make at least three people sloppy handling their grilling tongs. But even without the soju, the stainless steel chopsticks are rather slippery — not for beginners. We shamefacedly requested Western cutlery.

From the start, the food is fresh and made with care. Banchan, or small complimentary dishes, are well-considered here, and they may include any combination of deeply savory soy sauce-stained slices of daikon with jalapeño; an exceptionally balanced cabbage kimchi; a simple green salad with ginger dressing; potato salad; shavings of cucumber tangled with shredded crab stick; tricolor fusili tossed with mayo; and ridged, briny slices of bean curd.

There are appetizers on the menu, as well — though there is no guarantee they will come before your entrée. Thinly sliced just-seared beef is wrapped around microgreens and fine threads of daikon, the veggies a crunchy counterpart to the tender meat. There's also an array of jun pancakes, available large or small. The small jun are like two-bite fritters, the eggy batter solidifying slices of zucchini, ground beef or shrimp in crisp-edged suspension. Pan-fried slices of tofu are firm and freckled brown; they're paired with a chili sauce, but surprisingly flavorful on their own.

The DIY barbecue offers your choice of pork or beef cuts, including pork neck. We opted for soy and chili-marinated short ribs, which the server cut from the bone with a pair of scissors at the table. While the meat and garlic cloves and onion slices sizzled on the grill, we readied our plates with the cornucopia of fixins: lettuce and cabbage, bright leaves of kale, carrot sticks, cucumber, jalapeño peppers and a dense, rich soybean paste.

The server instructed us to turn the meat with enamel-handled tongs, letting it cook over the brass grate to our own liking. He told us it was not rocket science — you just let it sit for a couple of minutes per side and use your senses to determine doneness.

Stainless steel bowls of rice are free, but you have to ask for them — you should, as they come in especially handy with the many stews on the menu. You'll get one of those warnings from the server about the kimchi chigae (stew with spicy fermented cabbage), which has the bubbling intensity of lava and enough chili peppers to closely approximate its mouth feel. Floating in this orange brew are luscious bits of pork belly, scallion and nonfermented cabbage. Slightly less fiery is yook ge jang, a crimson eddy of shredded beef, fluttering egg and long, thin beans with a handful of glass noodles thrown in for good measure. I really wanted to try the samgye-tang, a Cornish hen stuffed with ginseng and sweet rice served in a reputedly restorative brothy soup, but it was out of stock.

A house specialty is the nengmyun, thread-thin homemade buckwheat noodles. They're offered here in numerous forms, but the hwae variety is served cold with a more-sweet-than-spicy pepper paste with the effect of morning-after spaghetti. On the side are thin slices of beef, Asian pear, cucumber and a hardboiled egg, plus raw marinated skate, which is salty and chewy like fish jerky.

The meal concludes with fresh fruit and bits of melon in light syrup, an Andes mint and a friendly reminder to visit again. Not to worry — there's no ignoring this building now.

(e_ludwig@citypaper.net)

Gaya

1002 Skippack Pike, Blue Bell, 215-654-8300

Daily, 11 a.m.-10 p.m.

Appetizers, $7-$12; Entrées, $10-$25

Reservations accepted

All major credit cards accepted