Review
Sotpot occupies an interesting culinary position in Singapore’s increasingly saturated Korean dining landscape — neither a conventional Korean BBQ establishment nor a straightforward rice restaurant, but a hybrid concept anchored in two distinct yet complementary traditions: phyunbaek jjim (cypress wood steamed meats) and sotbab (Korean rice pots). The restaurant draws its conceptual lineage from Korea’s well-regarded Solsot establishment, transplanting the sotbab tradition into a Singaporean context while making deliberate adaptations that reflect local and regional palate sensibilities.
The steamed meat offering represents the stronger of the two pillars. The cypress wood steamer functions not merely as a theatrical vessel but as an active flavour contributor — the aromatic wood subtly perfumes the rising steam, imparting a faint forest-like fragrance to the meat that distinguishes it meaningfully from conventional boiling or griddled preparation methods. This is gentle, patient cooking: twelve minutes of consistent steam heat coaxing moisture inward rather than driving it out, as high-heat methods tend to do. The result is meat that retains its natural juices while shedding excess fat into the steamer below — a genuinely healthier preparation without the compromises in palatability that “healthy” dining so often implies.
The sotbab, by contrast, remains a work in progress. Despite the ambitious 20-ingredient rice blend incorporating pumpkin and lotus root, the foundational flavour of the rice reads as restrained to the point of blandness. This is a significant shortcoming in a dish where rice is not merely a vehicle but the protagonist. Korean sotbab at its finest should yield rice with a nuanced, layered savouriness — the Maillard-browned crust at the pot’s base (the nurungji) crackling with toasty, caramelised depth. Whether this dimension was present or underperformed at Sotpot is not entirely clear from the available documentation, but the overall flavour assessment suggests the rice has not yet achieved its full expressive potential.
Ambience
Sotpot is situated on the third floor of Suntec City’s Sky Garden — a semi-outdoor, naturally lit annex that distances itself aesthetically from the enclosed commercial density typical of mall dining. The space reads as deliberately uncluttered: wooden accents ground the interior in warmth, while abundant natural light prevents the venue from feeling hermetic or artificially staged. The entrance display of traditional Korean rice pots functions as both practical exhibition and cultural signifier, orienting the diner immediately within a specific culinary tradition.
The spatial generosity of the layout — ample table spacing, absence of long queues — contributes to an unhurried dining rhythm appropriate to food that demands time and attention. Each table is equipped with a cypress wood steamer box, which serves as a tactile, centrepiece object that anchors the communal ritual of the meal. The atmosphere skews calm and considered rather than energetic or performative, suggesting a restaurant more interested in the integrity of its food than in the theatrics of the dining spectacle.
The Dishes: In-Depth Analysis
Phyunbaek Jjim — Cypress Wood Steamed Meats
Concept and Method
Phyunbaek jjim translates literally as “cypress steamed” — phyunbaek (편백) denoting the Hinoki cypress wood, jjim (찜) denoting steaming. The Hinoki cypress (Chamaecyparis obtusa) is notable in East Asian culinary and wellness traditions for its aromatic resin compounds, particularly α-pinene and limonene, which volatilise under heat and are believed to carry mild antimicrobial and aromatic properties. In the context of food preparation, the wood functions as a passive flavour modulator — not dominant, but present.
The meat is sliced thin prior to steaming, a decision that is both practical and textural. Thin slicing maximises surface area exposure to steam, accelerating even heat penetration and reducing cooking time, while ensuring that the fat striations within cuts like the Duroc collar soften and render without toughening the surrounding muscle fibres.
The Duroc Collar
The Duroc breed is a heritage pig variety prized for its intramuscular fat distribution — a marbling characteristic that in pork mirrors the role of shimofuri in premium Japanese beef. The collar (neck) cut is naturally well-exercised muscle, lending it a firmer structural integrity than belly, but the fat content of the Duroc breed keeps it from tipping into toughness. Steamed for twelve minutes, the result is meat with a clean, yielding texture — not gelatinous like long-braised pork, not springy like griddled cuts, but something softer and more restrained. The flavour is described as carrying a “rich, natural meaty flavour complemented by a subtle sweetness” — the sweetness likely attributable to the Duroc breed’s well-documented flavour profile, enhanced by the absence of the Maillard browning that would otherwise introduce bitter, caramelised top notes.
Textures
The textural interplay of this dish operates across multiple registers simultaneously. The meat contributes yielding softness with residual structural bite; the vegetables — carrot, corn, broccoli, black fungus, lotus root, pumpkin, eggplant, mushrooms — introduce a spectrum running from the firm resistance of lotus root and carrot through the yielding tenderness of eggplant and pumpkin to the slippery, cartilaginous chew of black fungus. Corn offers intermittent bursts of sweetness and starchy density. Broccoli, if not oversteamed, retains a degree of vegetal crunch. The totality is a dish with genuine textural complexity, each component occupying a distinct register without redundancy.
Hues
Visually, the dish presents as a study in muted naturalism. The steamed meats arrive in pale, ivory-pink tones — the colour of protein cooked gently without the browning that fire or a griddle would impose. Against this pallor, the vegetables introduce a curated chromatic range: the deep forest green of broccoli, the burnished orange of pumpkin and carrot, the translucent amber-brown of black fungus, the ivory-white of lotus root cross-sections (their characteristic lacework of holes visible in cross-section), the pale yellow of corn. The visual composition, while unpretentious, is quietly varied and appetising in the manner of a well-assembled mise en place.
The Sauces
Three sauces accompany the dish, and their role is more than supplementary — they function as flavour transformation agents, each capable of reorienting the dish’s character.
The signature Chardonnay-based sauce introduces sweetness and a wine-derived acidity — mild, elegant, and perhaps best understood as a palate-softening complement that harmonises rather than contrasts. The ssamjang — a blend of doenjang (fermented soybean paste) and gochujang (fermented chilli paste) — introduces the deep, umami-rich earthiness of fermentation alongside moderate heat. This is Korean condiment culture at its most fundamental: fermentation as flavour amplifier. The spicy vinegar dip, identified as the reviewer’s preference, performs a different function altogether: its acid cuts through the fat of the pork collar, acting as a palate cleanser between bites and preventing the dish from accumulating the heaviness that fatty cuts can impose over a sustained meal. This is sound flavour architecture.
Sotbab — Korean Rice Pot
Concept and Method
Sotbab (솥밥) refers to rice cooked in a heavy iron or stone pot (sot, 솥), a preparation with deep roots in Korean culinary history predating the electric rice cooker by centuries. The pot’s thermal mass allows for precise heat management: an initial high-heat phase brings the rice to a boil, after which heat is reduced, allowing the rice to steam in its own moisture. The consequence is a dual-textured result — soft, separate grains in the upper portion of the pot and a thin, toasted crust at the base (nurungji) where the rice has made sustained contact with the heated surface.
At Sotpot, the rice is prepared with a blend of 20 ingredients including pumpkin and lotus root. This is an ambitious infusion strategy, the aim being to develop a more complex flavour foundation than plain rice would offer. The criticism that the rice tasted “somewhat bland” despite this blend is instructive — it suggests either that the ingredient ratios are insufficiently assertive, that the cooking liquid lacks seasoning depth, or that the 20-ingredient profile is too diffuse to cohere into a distinctive flavour identity. More is not always more; flavour complexity requires hierarchy as much as variety.
Duroc Belly with Fried Kimchi
This variant places a Duroc belly steak atop the rice, accompanied by a generous portion of fried kimchi, finished with chopped spring onion and sesame seeds. The belly cut, unlike the collar, carries a higher fat-to-lean ratio — alternating striations of subcutaneous fat and muscle that, when cooked properly, produce the characteristic yielding richness associated with pork belly globally, from Korean samgyeopsal to Chinese hong shao rou.
The fried kimchi is a critical component. Kimchi bokkeum (fried kimchi) differs from fresh kimchi in both flavour and texture: heat drives off the sharper raw acidity, concentrating the fermented depth while caramelising the natural sugars of the cabbage. The result is a more rounded, intense sourness layered with umami from the fermented brine. Mixed into the rice with the savoury drippings of the belly meat, the kimchi acts as a seasoning agent, addressing the rice’s flavour deficit while adding structural contrast — the softened but still-textured kimchi against the yielding grains.
Hues
The Duroc Belly with Fried Kimchi pot presents a vivid chromatic contrast to the phyunbaek jjim’s restrained palette. The crimson-red of the fried kimchi dominates visually, offset by the caramelised, golden-brown surface of the pork belly steak. Beneath, the rice presents in warm ivory, flecked with the green of spring onion and the golden scatter of sesame seeds. It is a dish of high visual contrast — the primary reds and golds against the neutral white, signalling richness and heat before the first bite.
Beef Woodae Sotbab
The Beef Woodae presents differently: cubes of beef rather than sliced or layered meat, suggesting a cut preparation optimised for succulence and portion presence. The beef is described as “juicy and tender while maintaining a rich beefy flavour without any hint of gaminess” — indicating a well-sourced, well-rested cut, likely from a breed with sufficient fat content to preclude the dry, gamey characteristics associated with lean or poorly handled beef. The absence of gaminess in beef is partly a function of breed, partly of slaughter and aging practice, and partly of cooking temperature — overcooking drives off volatile aromatic compounds and concentrates less pleasant ones.
The accompanying tangy sauce mirrors the vinegar dip’s role in the phyunbaek jjim: acid as flavour-levator, cutting through the inherent richness of beef and animating the otherwise restrained rice.
Recipe and Cooking Instructions (Reconstructed from Available Data)
Phyunbaek Jjim — Home Approximation
Components
Protein (choose one, 250g): pork belly, beef short plate, beef brisket, or pork collar (Duroc recommended for flavour profile). Vegetables (total ~800g): carrot, corn (cob sections), broccoli florets, black fungus (hydrated from dried), lotus root (sliced thin), pumpkin (wedged), eggplant (halved lengthwise), assorted mushrooms (shiitake, king oyster).
Method
If a cypress wood steamer is unavailable, a bamboo steamer set over a wok with 3–4cm of simmering water is the most practical approximation. Hinoki cypress cutting boards or steam inserts can be sourced from Japanese kitchen suppliers if the aromatic element is desired.
Slice the protein thinly (3–4mm) across the grain to maximise tenderness and steam penetration. Arrange the denser vegetables — lotus root, carrot, corn — in the lower tier of the steamer, as these require longer cooking. Layer the protein and softer vegetables — eggplant, mushrooms, pumpkin — above.
Steam over medium-high heat for 10–12 minutes, checking at 10 minutes that the protein is cooked through (no pink in the centre for pork; 60–63°C internal for beef, if a thermometer is available). Do not oversteam: the goal is tender moisture retention, not fibre breakdown.
Spicy Vinegar Dip (approximation): Combine rice vinegar (3 tbsp), gochugaru (Korean chilli flakes, 1 tsp), a small amount of soy sauce (½ tsp), and a pinch of sugar. Adjust acidity and heat to preference. This replicates the “tanginess which cuts through the meat’s richness” identified in the review.
Ssamjang: Combine doenjang (2 parts) and gochujang (1 part) with a small amount of sesame oil, minced garlic, and toasted sesame seeds. This is a standard Korean condiment preparation widely available in recipe literature.
Sotbab — Home Approximation
Rice Preparation
Short-grain Korean or Japanese rice (1 cup, washed and soaked 30 minutes) cooked in a heavy-bottomed cast iron or stone pot. For the 20-ingredient infusion, add small quantities of diced pumpkin and sliced lotus root directly to the rice and cooking water (ratio: 1:1.1 rice to water). A small amount of seasoning in the cooking water — a strip of kombu, ½ tsp of salt — will address the flavour deficit identified in the review.
Bring to a boil uncovered, then reduce heat to the lowest setting, cover, and cook for 12–14 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to rest covered for 5 minutes. The base crust (nurungji) will form naturally — do not disturb it prematurely.
Fried Kimchi Topping
In a dry pan over medium-high heat, fry well-fermented kimchi (ideally kimchi that has aged 2–3 weeks minimum) in a small amount of sesame oil for 4–5 minutes until the cabbage softens, the brine caramelises, and the colour deepens from bright red to a darker crimson. Season with a small amount of gochujang if additional depth is desired. Place atop the finished rice pot with sliced or cubed pork belly (pan-seared or grilled to develop the Maillard crust), and finish with finely sliced spring onion and toasted sesame seeds.
Concluding Facets
Sotpot’s conceptual proposition is sound: steamed meats as a genuinely healthier, flavour-forward alternative to the dominant Korean BBQ model, accompanied by a rice preparation that foregrounds craft and ingredient complexity. The phyunbaek jjim delivers on this proposition with coherence — the cypress steam, the Duroc breed’s flavour characteristics, the textural breadth of the vegetable assortment, and the tripartite sauce architecture combine into a dish of genuine depth and value. The sotbab, despite its ambitious ingredient architecture, has not yet found its flavour identity with sufficient conviction.
What Sotpot represents, in the broader ecology of Singapore’s Korean dining scene, is a restaurant operating in a niche between the communal spectacle of BBQ and the quiet precision of home-style Korean cooking — a space with real potential, provided the rice finds its voice.