Sulnoon: Serving Up the Authentic Flavor of Pyongyang Cold Noodles in Chiba

Northern Tastes

Korean-style cold noodles is a familiar dish in Japan, where it is known as reimen. Brought by Korean immigrants in the 1950s, the chewy noodles in chilled broth are relished as a cooling treat during the warmer months and other times of the year. Moon Yeon-hee takes the cuisine back to its northern roots at her restaurant Sulnoon with a recipe for Pyongyang cold noodles that has been in her family for generations.

The tradition of making the noodles started with her grandmother, who operated a restaurant specializing in raengmyon, the North Korean variation of the dish, in Haeju in South Hwanghae Province. Her mother also served up bowls as a cook at one of the best hotels in Pyongyang and taught the technique to Moon, who now carries on the culinary tradition.

Moon followed a circuitous route to Japan after fleeing her homeland when she was 25. Wanting to share the traditional flavors of her home with Japan, she opened Sulnoon with her Japanese husband in the prefectural capital of Chiba in March 2024. The restaurant’s name means “New Year snow” in Korean, carrying with it an auspicious connotation of good things to come.

A bowl of Pyongyang cold noodles at Sulnoon. (© Gomi Yoji)

Pyongyang cold noodles are made primarily from buckwheat flour, giving them a distinct fragrance and dark tint not unlike Japanese soba. The dish dates from around North Korea’s founding in 1948. It first appeared at stalls and restaurants in the capital and quickly proved a popular favorite, with connoisseurs even purporting that the flavor would haunt the dreams of anyone who had eaten a bowl.

The dish has deep cultural and social importance as the culinary symbol of the North Korean capital. When South Korean President Moon Jae-in met his counterpart Kim Jong-un for a historic summit in 2018, the leaders famously dined on raengmyon prepared by a chef from the iconic Pyongyang restaurant Okryugwan, sparking interest in the noodles in the south.

Moon notes that most renditions of cold noodles enjoyed today have changed from the original form of the dish. In North Korea, for instance, starch is commonly added to noodles to make them chewier, and chicken is the norm for making the broth rather than pheasant meat, which was used early on. Toppings typically include generous helpings of sliced cucumber and pear along with boiled eggs.

In South Korean, too, the dish has taken on a distinct local flair as Pyongyang cold noodle restaurants, most of which were opened by northerners who came around the Korean War (1950–53), have adjusted their offerings to match local tastes. Japan’s Morioka reimen is another regional rendition that features wheat noodles stiffened with starch and a soup made from beef, pork, and chicken topped with a hardy serving of kimchi to add a touch of heat and sourness.

At Sulnoon, though, Moon recreates the authentic taste of Pyongyang’s beloved dish. She makes her noodles in the traditional style with buckwheat flour and uses beef, pork, chicken, and all-natural seasonings to create her stock, making certain to carefully skim off any impurities for a clear broth rich in flavor. Customers who prefer more of a kick can ask for red chili paste, but the clear soup is the best way to experience the original flavor of raengmyon.

Moon Yeon-hee at her restaurant Sulnoon, near Keisei Inage Station. (© Gomi Yoji)

Whispers from the Outside

Moon was born in the eastern port city of Wonsan in 1991, where lived until her parents moved to Pyongyang when she was in junior high. However, her family roots are in the south of the Korean Peninsula and Japan. In the 1930s, her grandparents left their home on Jeju Island and settled in Asakusa in Tokyo, where they served in the leadership of Chongryon (the General Association of Korean Residents in Japan).

When North Korea called on Zainichi Koreans (ethnic Koreans living in Japan) to return during the repatriation movement (1959–1984), her grandparents along with her mother and father, who were still children at the time, were among the initial wave of the some 93,000 people who eventually relocated from Japan.

Boats moored at a port in Wonsan, North Korea. (© Pixta)

Moon’s family was well off by North Korean standards. When famine ravaged the country in the mid-1990s, they received financial support from connections in Japan and were mostly untouched by the calamity, although the hordes of orphaned children called kotjebi who roamed the streets in search of food served as a stark reminder of the disaster.

Although among the privileged class, Moon began to harbor doubts about her homeland. In high school she witnessed the public execution of a friend who had been caught selling pirated DVDs of South Korean dramas, a shocking event that struck her as inordinately cruel. Having connections with Japan made her and her family members the brunt of discrimination and claims of having been “poisoned” by capitalist ideas.

Moon’s skepticism grew, and seeing no future for herself in North Korea, she made the decision to flee to the south.

A Treacherous Journey

Getting out of the country was an arduous and dangerous task. The first leg of her journey was a 12-hour car ride from Pyongyang north to the border town of Hyesan. There she paid a Chinese broker $3,000 to facilitate her escape. On a dark, rainy May night, she crossed the swollen river dividing North Korea from China alone and spent the next two days waking nonstop without food or water to evade Chinese authorities. Over the next three weeks she made her way by train and car to Laos, where she charged into the South Korean embassy and asked for asylum.

A truck crosses from China to North Korea over the Tumen Border Bridge in 2009. (© Jiji)

Having made her escape, Moon settled into a new life in South Korea. She initially relied on government support provided to those who had defected from the north, which included a monthly stipend, a one-room apartment, and basic necessities. She found work and studied to become a certified bookkeeper She felt immense gratitude for being welcomed into South Korean society and took citizenship after about a year—she remembers tears welling up in her eyes the first time she looked at her new passport. Her mother and younger brother had also defected, and in 2019 the three opened a Pyongyang cold noodle shop in Seoul.

Recreating the Flavor of Home

Running her restaurant, it was obvious that her beloved raengmyon was in decline. North Korea was still shut to foreigners due to the pandemic and many of the Pyongyang cold noodle restaurants in China and Southeast Asia had been forced out of business by UN sanctions. In Japan, too, the dish had changed to fit local tastes, making an authentic bowl almost impossible to find.

It was around this time that Moon met and married her Japanese husband Katsumata Shigeru. Looking at the state of raengmyon and hearing stories from her parents’ time in Asakusa, she was inspired to come to Japan and open a restaurant specializing in cold noodles based on her mother’s recipe.

When the couple opened Sulnoon, Moon’s story drew the media’s attention, bringing with it a steady stream of customers eager to try “real” Pyongyang cold noodles. The cozy shop quickly gained a reputation as a must-try place, and it still enjoys a steady stream of weekend foot traffic.

Dappokusha Support Network

Moon is among some 200 North Korean defectors, known as dappokusha in Japanese, who have settled in Japan. Most, like Moon, are from long-established Zainichi Korean families. South Korea, by contrast, has around 33,000 North Korean defectors, to whom the government provides training programs and other assistance to aid in adjusting to life in the country, which has enabled many to forge successful careers in fields like journalism, politics, and business.

Japan, on the other hand, lacks a well-established support system for dappokusha. The Korean Residents Union in Japan (Mindan) offers some assistance, but the amount is far below what most recipients need to become fully independent. Subsequently, many dappokusha are forced into insecure jobs in construction or the night entertainment industry just to make ends meet.

Dappokusha are stigmatized in Japan, but Moon is open about being from North Korea and readily shares about her life and experiences in the country as well as her escape. She is aware that some people are prejudiced toward Koreans, but she is undaunted by such views, declaring that “I want to show what life is like for North Koreans. It’s a dark reality, but by being frank and upfront about it, I want to change people’s perspective for the better.”

Looking Back, Looking Forward

Japan has proved to be different from what Moon initially expected. “In South Korea, I often heard that Japanese can be quite cold and distant,” she says. “But nothing could be further from the truth. Everyone has been so incredibly kind and supportive.” She looks forward to interacting with her customers each day, some of whom have traveled from as far away as Hokkaidō and Okinawa just to taste her Pyongyang cold noodles, and takes great pleasure in hearing their satisfied exclamations after a meal.

The homemade kimchi she serves at the restaurant has been especially well received, and Moon’s next ambition is to establish a factory to up production, confidently declaring, “I’ve set myself a goal of five years.”

Moon packs her homemade kimchi. (© Gomi Yoji)

Moon has big dreams, including opening restaurants in other areas of Japan. As she plans for the future, she takes strength from her memory of crossing the swollen river at the North Korean border on that dark, rainy night. “Nothing compares to the fear I felt at that moment,” she says, a smile spreading across her face. “Not even close.”

The interior of Sulnoon. (© Yamashita Tatsuo)

Sulnoon

• 2-5-27 Chitose Building 1F, Inage Ward, Chiba, Chiba Prefecture
• Tel.: 043-216-2866
• Open 11:30 am to 2:30 pm for lunch, 5:00 pm to 9:00 pm for dinner (except on Tuesdays)
• Closed Wednesdays and the second and fourth Tuesday of each month

(Originally published in Japanese. Banner photo: Moon Yeon-hee and her husband Katsumata Shigeru; Sulnoon’s specialty, Pyongyang cold noodles. © Gomi Yoji.)