Dining Out: The Golden Pig in Cecil is small, but the personal attention is plentiful
Yong Kwon stood behind a tiny counter and laughed as she fondly recounted the story of a now-regular customer's first visit.
The customer had requested extra spice and did not heed Kwon's warning for the already-hot dish. “He was crying by the end of the meal,” Kwon said. “He still jokes that I tried to kill him, and that is why he has no hair.”
Kwon is the owner and one-woman show at The Golden Pig, a 10-seat outpost in Cecil serving a small menu of Korean classics. It is a tight fit inside the cozy room, complete with hundreds of pig ephemera and a view directly into Kwon's kitchen.
On any given evening or afternoon, a regular — or two, or five — will be on hand to sing The Golden Pig's praises and hug Kwon on his or her way out. Kwon clearly draws cooking inspiration and an energetic spirit for 15-hour workdays from her patrons, whom she affectionately dubs “family.”
A typical restaurant experience, this is not.
The Golden Pig opened in 2008, when Kwon moved to the area from Korea. Appropriately, since the spot exudes a familial vibe, the restaurant's name is owed to Kwon's grandson AJ. The now 7-year-old was born during the year of the golden pig, a year of good luck, in the Chinese zodiac used widely across Asia.
If you plan a visit, you might need a bit of luck to snag a seat for dinner, as no reservations are taken and word has spread about the homey cuisine. Kwon cooks what she knows at The Golden Pig and does not claim perfection. “I am only human; I make mistakes,” she says. “But I only use the best ingredients, best products and I make what tastes good. I don't serve anything I wouldn't eat myself.”
You will be encouraged to take risks and leave pickiness at the door.
Once seated, you call out your order when prompted by Kwon. The menu is one page and features a small selection of starters, a variety of soups and entrees with limited descriptions of what you will find on the end of your fork.
On my first visit, I was shown the ropes by a group of Golden Pig fans. Don't be shy about gleaning advice from fellow diners. Because of the close quarters, it's easy to ask about dishes and peek at every other plate in the joint. “You make friends pretty quick here,” a Pig aficionado jokes. How true.
After warming up to your new neighbors, you can warm up to the food.
The Korean pancake is a fluffy and welcome beginning, filled with mixed vegetables or kimchi. The Mandu — pan-fried, minced meat dumplings that look like an oh-so-classic Pittsburgh pierogie — are worth an order for their subtle flavor before a spicier meal.
One of Kwon's favorite entrees is the Buldak, a fiery, marinated chicken dish. It comes with a warning of “not for the faint of heart.” I, unfortunately, am too chicken for that chicken. Other milder options are available, like a chicken stir fry or the Kalbi, boneless short rib.
The Jap Chae is a standout. The glassy, sweet-potato noodles are delicate, yet remarkably filling.
Depending on your seat position, you can watch as Kwon whips up your meal, moving back and forth in the galley kitchen. Preparing orders for one customer after the next — a steady river of hungry mouths to feed.
A pause in customer flow allowed Kwon to stop and chat on one late afternoon. Stories of diners washing dishes to help out, waiting hours for a seat and offering wine and friendship fill the tiny space. All the memories from the past six years of operation speak volumes of the warmth and hospitality any guest is bound to experience at The Golden Pig.
“What is one thing everyone should know? Why should people come to eat here?” I asked.
“Why?” Kwon stopped and thought.
This reviewer can think of many reasons: a good meal, friendly dining companions and an interesting, unique experience.
Kwon, however, thought of a better one: “They can trust me. When I cook, I give my heart.”
Laura Zorch is one of the food-savvy ladies of eatPGH.com, who contribute a weekly dining column to Trib Total Media.
