
In the heart of East Village, about as far from Petco Park as first base is from second base, sits Choi’s, a modern Korean fusion restaurant that opened a little more than a year ago.
As the hospitality industry continued to recover from the scars of the pandemic, a then-23-year-old chef who’s worked and apprenticed at restaurants in South Korea and the United States quietly opened a restaurant in the shadow of what USA Today has called the “undisputed best ballpark” in America.
If you aren’t paying attention as you’re looking for parking on game day, you might miss Choi’s altogether. But what’s inside the 4,321-square-foot street-level restaurant in the Park 12 mixed-use high-rise, especially what’s coming out of chef Jiwoo Choi’s kitchen, should not be missed.
I’ll be the first one to it: I haven’t been paying attention. When looking for Asian food, my com usually points about 10 miles to the north in the thriving — that is, busy! — Convoy District. A friend who dined at Choi’s in December hinted it might not be a bad idea to pay it a visit.

He was right. Choi’s is a gem, and perhaps its geographic distance from the hubbub of Convoy is a blessing. Away from the noise, you can hear what the chef, now 24, is saying.
The only son of Korean immigrants who moved to the United States in 2007, Choi grew up in Carmel Valley and attended Canyon Crest Academy, where he developed an interest in fashion. He dabbled in international business at UC San Diego before dropping out and pivoting to cooking and hospitality. He worked as a server at Puesto, where he met his future general manager, Adam Childress. He knows being a chef and running a restaurant requires hard work, he says, “but I am determined to do this — to share my immigrant story through food.”
Out of the park
Choi paints with colorful strokes, using a culinary palette that is at once bold and subtle, and it’s there within the subtleties where Choi and his kitchen — pardon the mixed metaphors — hit it out of the ballpark.
It’s evident from the moment you sit down in the 120-seat restaurant, appointed with sleek and modern furniture: contemporary walnut-hued tables, shiny-but-not-gaudy gold-colored fixtures, and a mix of chairs in luxurious royal blue velvet-like upholstery and leather-like ones in camel tones. A personalized handwritten note on custom stationery, signed by Choi himself when he’s working, warmly welcomes diners with reservations for the evening.

During a visit a few Saturdays ago, the restaurant buzzed with energy as the impeccably attentive staff busily tended to an almost-full house throughout the evening — and the Padres weren’t even in town.
Dinner started with a complimentary cocktail, served in an ounce-and-a-half-sized shot glass. During that visit, it was a lemon-ginger-and-honey concoction meant to open the evening — and your palate — with a subtle nod to the Korean fusion meal that’s about to come.
There’s something sophisticated and surprisingly vibrant in everything that comes out of Choi’s kitchen. After the cocktail, an amuse-bouche followed. Not every table gets it, though — it’s provided to tables celebrating special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries. It changes nightly based on seasonal ingredients and the chef’s whim. During our visit, the amuse-bouche came in the form of a delicately and beautifully plated dish of warm bite-sized Korean pancake topped with caviar and aioli.
The Tamari Fiddleheads — which last month was found under the “banchan” (side dish) heading on the menu — were fresh and crisp. The furled fern fronds sat in a small bowl of tamari sauce — think soy but not as salty — drizzled with sesame oil and topped with sesame seeds and pickled green onions. Sadly, the May lineup benched this dish.
The Cucumber Kimchi, $4 like the fiddleheads, was a delight, still crunchy because it’s fermented only for a day to preserve the cucumber’s natural crisp.
The “small” category on the current menu features seven dishes, ranging in price from $18 (Slow Roasted Eggplant) to $32 (Saewoojang Crudo). If you like octopus, the Charred Gochujang Octopus ($28) is perfectly grilled, making it tender and flavorful with nice smoky undertones flirting with the earthy flavors of the savory-sweet-and-spicy gochujang, a fermented chili paste that’s a staple in many Korean dishes.
There were two yakitori dishes grilled over binchotan, a long-burning Japanese white charcoal: pork belly ($12 for two skewers) and prawns ($16 for two skewers). Both came with a side of a mild yuzu-infused sauce, but it actually wasn’t necessary. The prawns, specifically, were grilled to perfection: salted just right and bursting with fresh flavors in each bite. Both didn’t quite make it to this month’s starting lineup.
The chef’s Korean touch shone, albeit subtly, in the Oysters Rockefeller ($24). During our visit, oysters from Baja California transformed to a delectable warm appetizer of oysters on the half-shell topped with a creamy sauce of pork belly, ponzu, lemon and panko, with the Korean twist coming in the form of gamtae, the “caviar of seaweed,” as Choi likes to describe it. You’ll just have to trust me on this since this, too, didn’t make the May menu.

The Slow Roasted Eggplant — happily still available this month — was a surprise on a Korean fusion menu. Grilled slices of eggplant sat on a creamy bed of baba ghanoush with ssamjang, a Korean dipping sauce. The marriage of Korean flavors and Mediterranean textures made for a complex-but-satisfying combination, topped with miso-honey glaze and gamtae yogurt, and accompanied by crispy lotus.
By the time you get to the “large” portion of the menu — aka entrées — Choi has warmed up enough and is primed to hit a few balls out of the park. And he does so especially with the crowd favorite Choi’s Crispy Chicken ($26), a Korean-style fried chicken bursting with flavor and sitting on a bed of yuzu-tinged mashed avocado.

Another crowd favorite — mine, too — was the only beef on the menu: Galbi Hot Stone Bowl ($38) — marinated short ribs on rice, with lotus roots, sautéed mushrooms, kimchi, green onions and truffle zest. The dish is flavorful and playful with its mix of textures. That combination alone made it a home run. The way the dish was plated, though, knocked it out of the park. After dinner, two friends who saw a picture both said: “It’s like a work of art.”
This month, Choi has added more beef to the menu — a request, I’m told, by a certain Padres center fielder who likes to dine there frequently. There’s now a New York strip, Australian Wagyu ribeye and Japanese A5 Wagyu filet mignon.

For those who do not want to venture too far from Western flavors, the Shiitake Fettuccine might fit the bill. It comes to the table simply sauced with shiitake mushrooms, Sauvignon Blanc, Korean chili pepper, chives and Parmesan cheese. That’s $28. For an additional $8, you can add shrimp, or for an additional $16, you can opt for the more opulent caviar.
Sliding into home plate
One dish that’s near and dear to Choi’s heart is the aptly named Grandma’s Pork Belly Bossam ($48). It’s a traditional Korean pork wrap featuring thinly sliced steamed pork belly, salted and paired with pickled daikon, kimchi, fermented green onions, shiso leaves and romaine lettuce.
“My grandmother didn’t want me to work in a restaurant. She wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer — the Asian cliché,” he says with a chuckle. “But when she realized I was doing well as a chef, she finally gave me the secret recipe.”

The Bokbunja Tiramisu helped slide us into home plate, the perfect way to end the evening. It came in a small ceramic bowl filled to the brim with tiramisu topped with dehydrated-then-crushed Korean blackberry wine known as bokbunja. The hint of tartness — it reminded me of raspberries — paired well with the tiramisu’s traditional flavors.
Choi’s has an energetic vibe, one befitting its location just blocks away from the thump-thump-thump of the Gaslamp Quarter. It’s a reflection, too, of the chef’s youth — at 24, his culinary journey has just begun.
In the kitchen, he’s nimble and not shy about mixing it up — witness the ever-evolving menu, which has been spruced up with weekly specials. And during the Padres’ season, a game day-only menu steps up to the plate with offerings like Triple Play Tacos, Galbi Sliders, Korean BBQ Wings and the popular Gimbap. To observe its second anniversary in November, it’s launching a chef’s tasting menu on Nov. 14.
The one nitpick — and perhaps I’m showing my age here — is the restaurant’s acoustics. The space, not as cavernous as the 7,600-square-foot Animae a couple miles away, is not conversation-friendly, and the just-a-smidge-too-loud music doesn’t help. Animae solved the issue with the installation of lush velvet drapes. Loud music is piped from speakers at Animae, but at least you can hear your server without straining.
Speaking of servers, Dylan, who was my server during two visits, definitely knew his way around the menu — so much so that there often was a backstory with some of the menu’s highlights and detailed descriptions of each plate that reached the table. It was a treat to listen to him talk about the food.
That’s a good thing because at Choi’s, the food is definitely the MVP. Seventeen months after opening in San Diego’s East Village, chef Choi is in the majors now, playing in a game he’s winning every night.
Choi’s
Address: 100 Park Plaza, No. 161, San Diego
Hours: 4 to 10 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday
Parking: Complimentary two hours with validation if you park in the retail parking in the Park 12 complex (enter on 12th Avenue). $2 per 20 minutes thereafter.
Phone: 619-228-9185
Instagram: @chois.sandiego
Online: choiskorean.com
