Baekhoe

What we do not know

• Ten posts are not ten people. One blogger wrote three of them across 2022, 2023 and 2024; another wrote two a fortnight apart in January 2022. That makes seven people. The first lives nearby and comes every couple of months; the second came twice for the cod soup, hungover. Three of the four 'came back' counts are theirs.
• If you want raw fish, book the day before. Two posts say so. One writer went for rockfish and flounder, was told they needed ordering in advance, and ate tuna and salmon instead. It is a raw-fish restaurant where, unannounced, the raw fish is tuna and salmon.
• Not one of the ten describes queueing. What they describe instead is a room that fills at lunch and empties at night. Two who came in the middle of the day watched it fill — one arrived early on purpose and was glad she had, though she did not have to wait; another simply says lunchtimes are crowded. The two who came in the evening found one or two tables taken, one of them noting that the place has lasted in this lane a long time, so presumably it works. A third arrived between one and two and watched it empty as she left. They do take bookings — but for the fish rather than the table (see below).
• It is small. Two call it compact; one counts only a few tables. One writer found counter seats around the kitchen and tables for two, and says eating alone felt unremarkable there; two mention a bar. Two of the ten came alone for lunch.
• Four of the fifteen are not about this shop. The name is also how Korean television says 'episode 100', so three write-ups of hundredth-episode specials came with it — a food programme in Busan, another about grilled pork, a third a list of a comedian's favourite restaurants. The fourth is an eighty-thousand-character essay on advertising for small businesses that happens to contain the phrase. A fifth post is about this shop but was not written by a person: it reproduces the Naver listing, down to 'thirty-one reviewers said the food was good', and never says what was eaten. We did not count it as a visit, though we used its menu and prices to check the others.
• We have not published opening hours for this place. Only one of the ten posts gives any, and we do not put one person's word into a table as though several had confirmed it. So here is what that one person wrote: in September 2024, eleven in the morning until ten at night, last orders at nine, closed on Sundays — and that it shuts between two and five in the afternoon. That afternoon break has been missing from this page until now: the writer mistyped the word, and the tool that used to read these hours automatically skipped straight past it, leaving the page saying eleven to ten with no gap in the middle. It is one record, from 2024 — ring ahead if you are going in the afternoon. One post we excluded, scraped from the shop's listing, opens an hour earlier at ten, Monday to Saturday; it leaves Sunday blank, so at least the Sunday closure agrees. We have not counted it.
• Not one of the ten says how to get here by train — no walking time, no exit number. It is a shop where people from the neighbourhood come for lunch, so nobody had reason to write it. The scraped listing gives 551 metres from exit 2 at Seoulsup on the Suin-Bundang line, but that is Naver's arithmetic, not anyone's walk. That the lane sits off the café strip, several posts do say.