You've probably seen the movie. Or maybe you’ve scrolled through those grainy, night-vision YouTube clips of "urban explorers" screaming because a door creaked in an abandoned building. When people talk about Gonjiam, they are almost always talking about the psychiatric hospital—the one CNN famously labeled as one of the most freaking-out places on the planet. But there is a massive disconnect between the internet legend of "haunted Gonjiam" and the actual, physical town of Gonjiam in Gwangju, Gyeonggi Province.
Gonjiam isn't a ghost town. Not even close.
It is a bustling, hungry, and deeply traditional corner of South Korea. If you head there looking for ghosts, you’ll mostly just find people standing in long lines for beef broth. The real Gonjiam restaurant scene isn't built on jump scares; it’s built on Somaek-guk (beef head soup). It's a culinary destination that locals take incredibly seriously, and if you go there expecting a horror movie set, the only thing that might haunt you is the realization that you’ve been eating mediocre soup your entire life.
The Reality of the Gonjiam Restaurant Landscape
Let’s get the geography straight because tourists mess this up constantly. The "Gonjiam Psychiatric Hospital" was demolished back in 2018. It’s gone. It’s a pile of dirt and memories now. However, the town of Gonjiam remains, and it serves as a major transit point for people heading to the Konjiam Resort or the Hwadam Forest. Because it’s a crossroads, a specific type of food culture developed here: hearty, fast, and incredibly filling meals for travelers.
You aren't going to find many avant-garde tasting menus or Michelin-starred fusion spots.
The vibe is "Halmoni (Grandmother) is in the back and she has been boiling this pot of bones since yesterday." It’s visceral. It’s honest. Honestly, the smell of the town on a cold morning—thick with the scent of simmering beef and green onions—is more iconic than any ghost story.
The most famous export is undoubtedly Gonjiam So-meori-guk.
This is beef head soup. I know, for some Western palates, "head soup" sounds like something out of a survivalist manual, but in the Korean hierarchy of comfort food, this is top-tier. The broth is milky white, achieved by boiling cow heads for hours until the collagen breaks down and the liquid becomes velvety. It’s sticky on the lips. That stickiness is how you know it’s the real deal and not just water with some bone powder thrown in.
Why the "Haunted" Reputation Both Helps and Hurts
Local business owners have a complicated relationship with the horror fans. On one hand, the 2018 film Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum brought a surge of curiosity to the area. On the other hand, it’s annoying when you’re trying to run a legitimate Gonjiam restaurant and people keep asking you where the "crazy people" lived.
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There’s a specific pride in Gwangju-si.
They want to be known for their ceramics and their beef, not a fictionalized version of a closed-down medical facility. If you walk into a place like Choi Mi-ja So-meori-guk (arguably the most famous spot in the area), don't expect to see any spooky decor. You’ll see bright fluorescent lights, stainless steel tables, and a bunch of middle-aged hikers in neon gear. That is the true face of Gonjiam.
The Legends of the Soup: Where to Actually Eat
If you’re hopping on the Gyeonggang Line to get here, you need a game plan. You can’t just walk into any random storefront and expect the life-changing experience. Well, you could, and it would probably still be "good," but we’re looking for the institutions.
Choi Mi-ja So-meori-guk is the undisputed heavyweight.
There is a "First House" and a "Main House." People argue about which is better like they’re discussing sports teams. The broth here is remarkably clean. Some beef soups can be "funky"—they have that heavy, farm-like musk. Choi Mi-ja manages to keep it elegant. You get a bowl filled with various cuts of meat: cheek, tongue, and the gelatinous bits that provide that essential texture. You dip the meat in a salty, vinegary sauce with chopped green onions. It’s simple. It’s perfect.
Then there is Bae Yeon-jeong So-meori-guk.
Named after a famous Korean comedian, this place is a bit more "commercial" but the quality holds up. The meat is sliced thin, making it a bit more approachable for people who are nervous about the whole "head meat" concept.
What to Order (And How to Not Look Like a Tourist)
When you sit down at a Gonjiam restaurant, the menu is usually tiny. Often, there are only two or three things you can actually buy.
- So-meori-guk (Normal): The standard bowl.
- So-meori-guk (Special/Teuk): More meat. Always get the special. It’s only a few thousand won more, and the meat-to-broth ratio is significantly better.
- Suyuk: This is just a plate of boiled meat slices served with a dipping sauce. This is a "luxury" item. If you’re with a group, you order one of these for the center of the table.
Kkaktugi (radish kimchi) is the secret weapon. A great soup place is actually judged by its radish. If the radish is soft or overly sweet, the meal is ruined. In Gonjiam, the kkaktugi tends to be sharp, crunchy, and fermented just enough to cut through the richness of the beef fat. You’ll see locals pouring the red radish juice directly into their white soup. It’s a pro move. It changes the flavor profile halfway through the meal.
Beyond the Beef: The Diversification of Gonjiam
While the soup is the soul of the town, the growth of the nearby Konjiam Resort has forced the local food scene to evolve. It’s not just for hikers and truck drivers anymore. You’re starting to see a lot more "Seoul-style" cafes and BBQ spots popping up along the main roads.
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For example, there’s a growing trend of Hanu (Korean Beef) specialized charcoal grills.
Because Gwangju is relatively close to the beef distribution hubs, the quality of raw meat in a Gonjiam restaurant is often superior to what you’d find in the middle of Gangnam for the same price. Look for places that have "Butcher Shop" (Jeong-yuk-jeom) in the name. You pick your tray of marbled ribeye or striploin, pay a small "table setting fee," and grill it yourself.
There are also the "Gondre" (thistle) rice places.
If you’ve had enough beef to last a lifetime, these spots offer a more "forest-to-table" vibe. They serve stone pot rice mixed with seasoned thistle, served with about fifteen different side dishes (banchan). It’s the kind of meal that makes you feel like you’ve been cleansed of your sins.
The Hwadam Forest Effect
If you are visiting in the fall, God help you. The Hwadam Forest is one of the most beautiful arboretums in Korea, and when the maples turn red, the town of Gonjiam becomes a parking lot.
This is when the restaurants are under the most pressure.
A lot of people think the food quality drops during peak season. Honestly, it's the opposite. These kitchens are like well-oiled machines. They have to be. If a Gonjiam restaurant slows down when the crowds hit, they lose their reputation instantly. The turnover is so high that the ingredients are guaranteed to be fresh. The broth doesn't have time to sit; it’s being ladled out as fast as they can boil it.
Addressing the "Ghost" Elephant in the Room
We have to talk about the influence of the hospital one last time because it still drives a specific kind of "dark tourism" food culture. There are small cafes in the area that leaned into the theme briefly, but most have pivoted away. The local government really wants to distance the area from the "insane asylum" trope.
Why? Because it’s disrespectful to the actual history of the site.
The hospital didn't close because of ghosts or mad scientists; it closed because of mundane issues like sewage systems and economic pressures. When you eat at a Gonjiam restaurant, you are participating in the real history of the region—a history of resilience, of being a stopover for travelers, and of mastering a very difficult, time-consuming dish.
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Supporting these local spots is a way of acknowledging that Gonjiam is a living, breathing community. It’s not a horror movie set. It’s a place where people wake up at 4:00 AM to skim fat off a giant cauldron so you can have a perfect breakfast.
Practical Advice for Your Visit
If you’re actually going to make the trip, don’t just wing it.
First, check the hours. Many of the legendary soup houses close early. If they run out of broth, they lock the doors. This isn't a 24-hour Seoul fried chicken joint. If you show up at 7:00 PM on a Sunday, you might be out of luck. Aim for an early lunch—around 11:00 AM—to beat the post-church or post-hiking rush.
Second, parking is a nightmare. Most famous places have their own lots, but they fill up fast. If you see a spot, take it. Don't assume there will be something better closer to the entrance.
Third, bring cash. While everywhere takes cards now, small mom-and-pop shops in the countryside always appreciate the gesture, and it sometimes earns you an extra serving of kimchi or a kinder smile from the staff.
The Verdict on Gonjiam Dining
Is it worth the hour-long subway ride from Seoul?
Yes.
But only if you appreciate the craft of "slow food." If you want a quick burger, stay in Myeongdong. If you want to sit in a room that smells like steam and history, and if you want to eat a bowl of soup that feels like a warm hug for your internal organs, then get on the train. The Gonjiam restaurant experience is about patience. It's about the contrast between the quiet, rural surroundings and the intense, concentrated flavor in the bowl.
Forget the ghosts. The only thing you should be afraid of is how much weight you’re going to gain after discovering that "special" size beef head soup.
Next Steps for Your Trip:
- Target the "Big Three": Pin Choi Mi-ja So-meori-guk, Bae Yeon-jeong, and Goo-il Garden on your map before you leave.
- Check the Season: If it’s late October, book your Hwadam Forest tickets weeks in advance or you won’t even be able to get near the town.
- Learn the Lingo: Practice saying "Sogogi-gukbap" (beef soup with rice) and "Suyuk" (boiled meat) to make ordering seamless.
- Combine with Culture: Visit the Gyeonggi Ceramic Museum nearby to walk off the heavy meal; it’s surprisingly peaceful and helps with digestion.