This week, the Cheap Bastard heads to Korea town looking for some soup at La Hanbat Sul Lung Tang, 2257 Royal Lane, 972-484-2002. That's why she told us she was there, anyhow. We're sure her visit had nothing to do with any "modeling" studios in the neighborhood. Mostly sure.
Total number of words my server said to me: 4 Times I looked out the window to clarify that I was still actually in Dallas while I was sitting in this place: 3
La Hanbat Sul Lung Tang is a Korean beef soupsteraunt on Royal Lane, just down the street from King Spa (You've seen King Spa -- it's the 24-hour spa/sauna/karaoke place with the giant giraffes guarding the entrance. If you've been inside, you've seen things that can never be unseen. I discovered their food court after being yelled at for trying to wear a bathing suit in the nekkid room. Don't order the smoothie there).
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!
La Hanbat Sul Lung Tang doesn't say "La Hanbat Sul Lung Tang" in English anywhere on the outside of the restaurant. It just says "LA" followed by a bunch of not-English. But, that's fine because (in addition to a bunch of pretty stuff I can't read) it does say "Korean traditional beef soup," "cold noodles" and "open," which was all I really needed to know anyway.
Inside, the place was packed. The entire menu is listed on a table tent. It's pretty much soup, soup, other soup, dumplings and soup. Since they bragged about the beef soup (aka Sul Lung Tang, which Wikipedia tells me is made from ox bones) on the front of the restaurant, it seemed smart to go with that. Options for your beef soup: brisket, flank, intestine, tongue or "mixed." "Wait, are you telling me that 'mixed' means I get all the meats for the same price as getting one of the meats?!?! Sign. Me. Up." I also ordered the dumplings as a safety net (This ain't my first food rodeo).
As I waited for my soup and dumplings to arrive, I looked at the menu again and realized that the soup cost me $8.31. Eight frigging dollars for soup? What is this, Starbucks? Just as I was about to yell at a baby about all this, a metric shit ton of plates and bowls of food were brought to my table. Cabbage kimchi. Daikon radish kimchi. Bowl of rice. Red pepper paste. Sea salt. Then came the clear-commercial-kitchen-food-bin filled to the brim with chopped green onions. I love green onions. I love this place.
When the soup arrived, it wasn't the most photogenic lunch I've ever eaten. Chunks of intestine, definitely recognizable chunks of tongue, those clear noodles that look like something out of Star Trek and a white-ish broth. My eyes were like, "Are you seriously about to eat that big bowl of junk juice?!" And I was like, "Yuh-huh." The soup was ox-boningly delicious. Get it. And ohmahgad the dumplings. Get the pork dumplings. They're as delicious as Jessica Simpson is dumb. If these dumplings could talk, they'd be all, "I'M FUCKING DELICIOUS!!!" They're The Wire good. Get this stuff in your face hole.