Ahn (安) Korean Restaurant at The Hillford: Hanbang Samgyetang — Soul Food in a Bowl

If dakgalbi is Ahn’s showstopper, then hanbang samgyetang (한방삼계탕) is its quiet masterpiece. Where the dakgalbi is loud, sizzling, and communal, the samgyetang is intimate, restorative, and deeply comforting — the kind of dish that makes you slow down and savor every spoonful.

Setting the Scene

We came back to Ahn on a gray, slightly chilly afternoon — honestly, the perfect weather for this dish. Samgyetang has always struck me as one of those meals that’s less about indulgence and more about nourishment, and Ahn’s version leaned fully into that feeling from the moment it arrived.

The bowl came out steaming, served in a traditional stone or clay pot (depending on the day) that kept everything bubbling gently even after it reached the table. Just the sight of the broth — pale, milky, and fragrant — was enough to make us forget how cold it was outside.

The Dish Itself

Hanbang samgyetang is built around a whole young chicken, stuffed with glutinous rice, garlic, jujube (dried red dates), and simmered for hours in a broth infused with a careful blend of medicinal Korean herbs — ginseng being the star of the show, but often joined by others like astragalus root, angelica, and other “hanbang” (한방) ingredients that give the dish its name and its signature earthy depth.

At Ahn, the broth was rich but never heavy — silky, subtly sweet from the jujube, and carrying that distinct, slightly bitter warmth of ginseng that lingers pleasantly on the palate. It wasn’t overly medicinal or sharp; instead, it felt balanced, like something carefully brewed rather than just boiled.

The Chicken

The chicken itself was the real highlight. Slow-cooked until the meat practically fell off the bone, it had that melt-in-your-mouth tenderness that only comes from hours of gentle simmering. Inside, the sticky rice stuffing had absorbed all the broth’s flavor, becoming almost porridge-like — soft, savory, and packed with little bits of chestnut and ginseng root throughout.

Pulling the meat apart with chopsticks and dipping it into the accompanying salt-and-pepper mix (a small but essential touch) elevated every bite. A little seasoning was all it needed — the broth and stuffing did most of the work already.

The Little Touches

What impressed me most were the small details:

• A side of tangy kimchi that cut beautifully through the richness of the broth
• Whole jujubes and a garlic clove or two floating in the pot, soft enough to eat and surprisingly sweet
• Chrysanthemum or ginseng liquor offered on the side at some tables — a nice, warming complement if you’re in the mood

Every element felt intentional, like it had been thought through rather than just plated for show.

The Experience

There’s something almost meditative about eating samgyetang. Unlike the theatrical energy of dakgalbi, this dish invites a slower pace — you portion out the chicken, sip the broth between bites, and let the warmth settle in. It’s the kind of meal people in Korea traditionally eat on the hottest days of summer (known as bok-nal, 복날) to fight heat with heat — but honestly, it felt just as perfect on a cold day, functioning almost like the ultimate bowl of chicken soup.

By the end, we’d cleared the bowl completely — chicken, rice, broth, and all — and left the table feeling genuinely nourished in a way that’s hard to put into words. It’s less “I want more” and more “I feel taken care of.”

Final Verdict

Ahn’s hanbang samgyetang is comfort food elevated to an art form. The broth alone — deep, herbal, and perfectly balanced — would be enough to recommend this dish, but paired with fall-apart tender chicken and a perfectly executed rice stuffing, it becomes something truly special.

If dakgalbi is what you order when you want an experience, samgyetang is what you order when you want to feel cared for. Both, it turns out, are reasons enough to keep coming back to Ahn.

Rating: ★★★★★