Bulgolgi burgers, tteokbokki and natural wine in Koreatown

I recently tried to explain my new favorite restaurant to a friend. Things got complicated quickly.

The restaurant is called Red Room. Well, it's a kind of restaurant, a kind of pop-up. Yes, the room is red, but it's not actually painted red. There are lights along the walls giving it a red neon glow. It's inside a coffee shop in Koreatown called Coffee MCO, but the place serves dinner Thursday through Sunday. You can order at the counter downstairs and the dining room is upstairs.

You can order coffee for dinner but there is natural wine, beer and soju cocktails. The chef is also a practicing doctor. I guess he'd say the food is Korean, but it feels distinctly Los Angeles.

Yes, there is free parking in the back, but if the attendant doesn't remember you came in, he will ask you where you were on the way out.

“That sounds very L.A.,” the friend said, laughing.

I guess so.

Dr. Yoon Sung works shifts at two urgent care centers at the beginning of the week. On Wednesdays he is at a farmers market. Thursday through Saturday, he's in the Red Room kitchen.

After college, Sung started a cooking blog and worked as a cook and pastry chef at Woodberry Kitchen in Baltimore. Throughout medical school and his residency at Stanford, Sung taught himself new recipes and spent hours in the kitchen after work and school. He has cooked at Chimmelier and Hanchic in Los Angeles.

Red Room's potato jeons are Sung's upgraded tater tots, inspired by his childhood in Seoul and the six weeks he spent living in Argentina during his final year of medical school.

“I think it's one of my signature dishes because there are so many pancakes in Korean cuisine,” Sung says. “Sometimes they can be a little soggy, so I wanted them to have more of a potato pancake-like texture, but with a very crispy exterior.”

The little golden squares have the crunch of a tater tot with a soft, gnocchi-like center that's as silky as Robuchon mashed potatoes. Sung bathes the jeons with grated Parmesan cheese, red onion slices, and lemon zest. They are served alongside a cup of chimichurri with minty and citrus notes from perilla leaves.

A single perilla leaf is the unsung hero of Sung's bulgolgi burger. It's nestled between lettuce and marinated cucumbers, crushing the double beef and cheese burgers and two onion rings with a jolt of freshness.

The bulgolgi burger from Red Room in Koreatown.

(Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times)

“It's inspired by a Korean fast food chain called Lotteria,” Sung says. “They have this old-school bulgolgi burger, and my mom gave it to me after we went to the dentist.”

The meat is covered in a sweet bulgolgi glaze with sugar, soy, sesame and garlic. The marinated cucumbers are reminiscent of the oi muchim you'd find in a good banchan set. If you can resist ripping the onion rings off the burger, they'll add height and crunch.

“I was thinking about how bulgolgi is so prevalent in Korean barbecue, but how can I make it more wine bar friendly and something approaching hearty,” Sung says.

There is a sort of “aha” moment with each dish as its kinship with other cultures and cuisines is traced. Included on the menu as RR ragú, it is a dish linked to Italian meat sauce, Korean tteokboki and Mexican picadillo.

Ragu on fried rice cakes from Red Room in Koreatown.

(Jenn Harris/Los Angeles Times)

Jung says his sous chef Daniel Chong is responsible for the ragu, a slow-cooked tomato sauce thick with ground beef and warmed with Mexican oregano and bay leaf. It is a ragout that can be eaten like chili.

Instead of pasta, there are crispy, chewy fried rice cakes. The dish is garnished with small dollops of a bright, tangy cilantro-jalapeño sauce, a mound of grated Parmesan, and crushed Thai basil. Every spoonful is equally unnerving and exciting.

At the Red Room, it's easy to lose track of time with a constant onslaught of small plates and wine. As the night darkens, the room becomes redder and the plates are replaced by an increasing number of wine glasses on the tables.

When I got to the end of my long, winding description of the restaurant, my friend said it looked like a good place to spend the night. Is.