Breakfast in Myeongdong: Why the Best One Is Soup, and How to Order It

If you are looking for breakfast in Myeongdong, the honest answer is that the best one is soup.

Not a hotel buffet, not a cafe. A bowl of milky white ox-bone broth, a bowl of rice, and as much kimchi as you can eat. I had this in late March 2025 at Sinseon Seolleongtang in Myeongdong, and it reset my idea of what breakfast can be.

There is one thing about it that surprises almost every first-time visitor, and I want to get to that quickly, because if nobody tells you, you will think something has gone wrong with your order.

The shop: plain, bright, and open early

You find it by the sign: the Korean characters 신선설농탕 mounted on a stone wall, next to a small cartoon of an old man carrying a bowl on a cloud. Beside it is a notice board with four numbered rules for customers, printed in Korean, English, Japanese and Chinese — a good sign that foreign visitors are expected and welcome.

Inside is bright, white and plain. LED strips in the ceiling, low wooden partitions, tables in rows. There is no attempt at atmosphere, and that is exactly right for a place that feeds people at eight in the morning.

When I went, the room held a mix of Korean office workers eating alone and a few travellers. Nobody lingers. People come in, eat a bowl of soup, and leave.

First: the kimchi is self-serve, and there is a lot of it

Before the food arrives, look at the table. There are two deep stainless trays: one of kkakdugi (cubed radish kimchi, bright orange) and one of baechu kimchi (napa cabbage). Tongs in each. And a pair of red-handled kitchen scissors.

The scissors are not a mistake. Cabbage kimchi is served in long pieces, and you cut it down to a size you can eat. This is completely normal in Korea and nobody will look at you strangely for doing it.

Coming from Japan, where kimchi arrives as a small side dish in a little bowl, the volume here was the first surprise. It is not a garnish. It sits next to the soup as an equal. The white of the broth and the red of the kimchi are not just a colour contrast — they are the actual design of the meal.

The surprise: your soup arrives with no flavour in it

The soup comes in a metal bowl: milky white, with slices of beef and chopped spring onion floating in it. Rice arrives separately, in a lidded stainless bowl. Another small plate of kimchi on the side.

Then you take the first spoonful and think: this has almost no taste.

Nothing is wrong. Seolleongtang is served unseasoned on purpose. The broth is made by simmering ox bones for many hours, which gives it body and a deep, quiet richness — but the salt is left out. Salt and seasoning sit on the table, and you build the flavour yourself, to your own strength.

This is the part nobody warns you about, and it is the reason some travellers write that the soup was bland. It was not bland. It was unfinished, on purpose, and they were handed the last step.

How to actually eat it

• Taste it plain first. One spoonful, before you add anything. This is the only chance you get to taste the broth itself.
• Add salt in small amounts. Stir, taste, repeat. It is much easier to add than to fix.
• Add the spring onion generously if a jar of it is on the table.
• Put the rice into the soup, or eat it alongside — both are normal. Tipping the whole bowl in is common.
• Then bring in the kimchi. This is where it comes together: the broth is round and mild, the kimchi is sharp, sour and cold. A piece of beef with a slice of kimchi laid over it, in one spoon, is the single best mouthful of the meal.

The beef is simmered soft enough to fall apart when you lift it with chopsticks.

Why soup makes sense as breakfast

In Japan we drink miso soup in the morning too, but it is an accompaniment — the meal is the rice and the fish. In Korea the soup is the meal.

Something changes when the first thing you put into your body is hot liquid. Seoul in late March was still cold, and walking out of that shop afterwards genuinely felt different from walking out of a cafe with a coffee and a pastry.

That, more than any single flavour, is why I would send a first-time visitor to Myeongdong here for breakfast rather than anywhere else.

Practical notes

• Visited: late March 2025, morning.
• Restaurant: Sinseon Seolleongtang (신선설농탕), Myeongdong branch. Listed at 2F, 56 Myeongdong-gil, Jung-gu, Seoul.
• Nearest station: Myeongdong Station (Line 4), Exit 6 — a few minutes on foot.
• Hours: this chain is known for opening early and staying open long, but hours and even the branch itself can change. Check a current map listing before you walk over.
• What to order: seolleongtang (ox-bone soup). The menu also has dumpling soup, rice-cake soup and boiled beef.
• The soup is unseasoned. Salt and seasoning are on the table. This is normal.
• Kimchi is self-serve, in metal trays, with scissors for cutting it.
• Language: the customer notice is posted in four languages, and pointing at the menu works fine.
• Good to know: it is fast. If you have a morning tour or an early train, this is a 20–30 minute breakfast.

Myeongdong has plenty of cafes, and there is nothing wrong with a bagel and a coffee. But you can get that at home. A bowl of white soup that you finish seasoning yourself, at eight in the morning, with a metal tray of kimchi within arm’s reach — that you can only get here.

Other mornings in Seoul

Myeongdong is thin on breakfast, which is why the question keeps being asked. These are the other mornings I have actually had in the same part of the city.

• The other soup breakfast: Samgyetang at nine in the morning: a whole chicken, in one piece. Also a white broth you season yourself, eaten at nine in the morning, and heavier than the seolleongtang.
• Where I walked back to: Hotel 28 Myeongdong: a film-set room on a work trip — one street off the main Myeongdong road.
• The same streets, twelve hours later: Myeongdong at eight at night, where you cannot walk where you want to.

Frequently asked questions

Where should I have breakfast in Myeongdong?

A bowl of seolleongtang at Sinseon Seolleongtang, a short walk from Myeongdong Station on Line 4. It opens early, breakfast takes 20–30 minutes, and it is the one in the neighbourhood I would go back for. Myeongdong has plenty of cafes, and a bagel and a coffee is a perfectly fine morning — but you can have that at home.

Why does the soup arrive with no flavour in it?

Nothing has gone wrong. Seolleongtang is served unseasoned on purpose. The broth is made by simmering ox bones for many hours, which gives it body without salt, and the salt and seasoning sit on the table so you build the flavour to your own strength. Taste it plain once first, then add salt in small amounts, stirring and tasting as you go.

What are the scissors on the table for?

Cutting the kimchi. Cabbage kimchi is served in long pieces, and you cut it down to a size you can eat. This is completely normal in Korea. The kimchi itself is self-serve, from two deep stainless trays — one of kkakdugi (cubed radish) and one of baechu (napa cabbage) — with tongs in each.

How long does breakfast here take?

It is fast. Nobody lingers; people come in, eat a bowl of soup and leave. Allow 20–30 minutes, which makes it workable before a morning tour or an early train.

Where is it, and which station is nearest?

Sinseon Seolleongtang (신선설넽탕), Myeongdong branch, listed at 2F, 56 Myeongdong-gil, Jung-gu, Seoul. The nearest station is Myeongdong Station on Line 4, Exit 6, a few minutes on foot. Hours — and even the branch itself — can change, so check a current map listing before you walk over.

Is there anything on the menu besides the ox-bone soup?

Yes. The menu also has dumpling soup, rice-cake soup and boiled beef. Ordering is not a problem in English: the customer notice by the entrance is posted in Korean, English, Japanese and Chinese, and pointing at the menu works fine.

More from Seoul

The hotel I walked back to that morning stands one street off the main Myeongdong road.
Hotel 28 Myeongdong: a film-set room on a work trip