Disappearing North Korean Restaurants in China

North Korean restaurants in China have long been a unique cultural and culinary presence. These establishments, run by North Korean staff under strict supervision, offer more than just a meal – they provide a rare, albeit tightly controlled dining experience in the exclusive world of the DPRK. However, in recent years these restaurants have been disappearing. Once thriving across major Chinese cities, North Korean restaurants are now shutting their doors at an alarming rate due to economic downturns, shifting consumer habits and wider geopolitical factors.

NORTH KOREAN RESTAURANTS RISE AMIDST CHINA’S K-CULTURE BOOM

A popular North Korean Restaurant in Incheon, South Korea

With the global rise of Korean culture (K-culture) by way of K-pop and K-drama, North Korean restaurants have also indirectly benefitted. Many Chinese nationals, under the historical and political influence of China’s long-standing alliance with Pyongyang and its diplomatic relationship with Seoul, often refer to Korea as “Chosun,” without distinguishing between the North and South. This broad perception has allowed North Korean restaurants to thrive alongside other Korean establishments, as local diners enjoy the cuisine without necessarily differentiating its origins. This blending of identities has, consequently, helped North Korean restaurants maintain customer interest. 

Historically, North Korean restaurants found a welcoming environment in China’s northeastern cities, particularly in Jilin, Liaoning and Shandong province, where Chosunjok (ethnic Korean Chinese) communities have long thrived. These close-knit communities established numerous Korean restaurants, creating a familiar culinary landscape that allowed North Korean eateries to blend in more easily. 

THE FALL

However, as economic conditions worsened and competition increased, North Korean restaurants struggled to maintain their presence in China. Over half of these establishments in Liaoning province have already shut down, with many in the city of Dandong ceasing operations entirely. This includes notable restaurants like Ryugyong Sikdang and Taebosan, whose staff and managers have returned to North Korea. These businesses, often dependent on North Korean trading companies for financial support, have found it increasingly difficult to sustain the high costs of rent and operations.

Even larger North Korean venues like Songdowon and Koryo Restaurant, despite being backed by powerful North Korean agencies and employing North Korean staff who serve and perform, are operating under immense financial strain. A key factor in their struggle to attract Chinese customers is their significantly higher pricing. For instance, a meal for four at one of these restaurants typically costs between 700 and 800 RMB (approximately $97 to $110 USD), which is substantially more expensive than the average dining cost for four in China, generally ranging from 80 to 320 RMB (approximately $11 to $44 USD). This makes local dining alternatives considerably more appealing as economic conditions in both North Korea and China have worsened.

Myung-tae (Alaskan Pollock) fish is a popular dish among North Koreans

Chosunjok-owned restaurants also adapted by embracing modern dining trends, for example, some even reinvented their menus with special dishes inspired by Netflix’s highly popular show, Culinary Class Wars, led by celebrity chef Paik Jong-won and Michelin-starred chef Ahn Sung-jae. To further enhance the atmosphere, these restaurants play upbeat K-pop hits, letting diners savor their meals while enjoying tracks like Bruno Mars and Rosé’s APT. This fresh, immersive approach keeps them ahead of the game, setting them apart from the rigidly traditional North Korean restaurants.

NORTH KOREAN RESTAURANTS FIND REFUGE IN MONGOLIA

Bucking the trend in China, North Korean restaurant expansion has recently extended to Mongolia. It is reported that the Pekkhwa Culture and Art Center in Ulaanbaatar, formerly known as the Pyongyang Baek Hwa Restaurant, has reopened after years of closure, featuring revamped decor while maintaining elements from its previous iteration. While the center's ownership remains uncertain, its operations are managed by a team of about a dozen individuals, with North Koreans overseeing service roles and Mongolians handling management duties.

This move suggests that North Korean businesses are seeking alternative markets to sustain their overseas operations, despite ongoing UN sanctions that prohibit DPRK nationals from earning income abroad. It is no surprise that North Korea sees Mongolia as a natural choice for expanding its restaurant presence. Ulaanbaatar has historically welcomed North Korean laborers in construction and the cashmere industry, creating a foundation of familiarity and cooperation between the two nations. With existing networks and past trade relations, North Korean businesses can continue operating in Mongolia with relative ease despite international restrictions.

Staff Notes: North Korean Refugees, Memories, Home

The following post was written by Crossing Borders volunteer staff: Years before I started volunteering with Crossing Borders to serve North Korean refugees and orphans, I remember going on a brief visit to Northeast China with my grandfather. We stopped at a North Korean restaurant staffed by beautiful young North Korean waitresses. The North Korean government owns several restaurants throughout Asia, which are fully staffed and managed by approved North Korean patriots under the employ of their government. My grandfather, a North Korean refugee, who was born in North Korea and still had siblings living there, asked the women about their lives and their families. I knew he took pity on their situations. Although they were living in relative freedom in China they were, essentially, still enslaved to the North Korean government, working long hours for little pay. Yet with frozen smiles and identical expressions, each professed their undying devotion to their homeland and their “Eternal Father” Kim Il Sung. They each wore a small red Kim Il Sung pin on their uniforms and spoke no ill of their leader.

A few years later, I found myself watching a documentary entitled State of Mind, which followed the lives of two young North Korean gymnasts as they prepared with single-minded devotion for "The Mass Games”, a performance held in honor of North Korea's leader. The gymnasts placed all their efforts and hopes into the chance that they might perform for Kim Jong Il. Their months of labor and practice resulted in a flawless performance. But on the day of the Games, the Supreme Commander failed to show. , The disappointment and pain in their eyes was evident.

Many of the North Korean refugees assisted by Crossing Borders long to return to their homes in North Korea. Though they have been informed that their leaders Kim Il Sung, Kim Jong Il and Kim Jong Un are not gods, that North Korea is not paradise on earth, their home still beckons them from a distance. Memories and shared histories are still too powerful to forget. This is perhaps why my own grandfather remains drawn to any news about his former home, why he continues to travel along the border between China and North Korea, hoping to catch glimpses of any North Koreans on the other side.

On one of our visits, while riding a tourist ferry along the Tumen River, we happened to see some North Korean children playing in the water. They were close enough that we could hear their laughter. My grandfather reached out his arms and wistfully remarked that he wished there was something he could give them. Only half-joking, he thought of throwing them small bags of rice or money. But soon our small tour boat turned around and we were headed back, moving further and further away from the shores of North Korea.