Chuncheon Dakgalbi (Spicy Stir-Fried Chicken) - £32.50 (serves two - or, in our case, three)

Gochujang Jjigae (Spicy Red Pepper Paste Stew) (v) - £14.00

Henry

There’s something to be said for revolutionary leaders and their culinary preoccupations. After all, it was Napoleon who said “an army marches on its stomach”. And so, as we march into a new term (on our feet), there is one absolute certainty in life: the overwhelming desire for good food. Buoyed by the promise of impeccable sups, we set foot au militaire for the scran du jour – one of Cambridge’s premier Korean restaurants, Kimchili.

The establishment stands with one foot confidently in the future and one in the past, in both food and decor. Set against the diner-esque wall-mounted LPs and reclaimed antique cigarette adverts, the gleaming, ever-so-slightly space-age monogrammed tableware came into sharp contrast – economical, but not at the expense of aesthetic. Going in, I wasn’t quite sure whether I was in for something very old, or very new.

Both, it turned out, and Kimchili does each brilliantly. We began with an excellent selection of starters (which we later realised were sides for the main dish): included were refreshing half-pickled, half-bedevilled courgettes; slightly nutty string beans (and I don’t mean my co-reviewers); a frothy cloud of what must’ve been the love child of a scrambled egg and a mashed potato; and possibly the very finest kimchi I’ve ever tasted. We fought long and hard for the final zucchini, our chopsticks skittering viciously like warring mantises on an episode of Blue Planet.

“We fought long and hard for the final zucchini, our chopsticks skittering viciously like warring mantises on an episode of Blue Planet"

Our entr’acte quarrel was settled by the pure theatre of the mains. The stew, thick and full of heart, was the sort of thing you’d want waiting for you after a long day’s work: robust fare, with melt-in-your-mouth gobbets of tofu and a beautiful broth percolating deep into the rice.

And that’s before we get onto the real star of the show: the chicken. Populated with a small village of sweet potato fries, and topped with stringy gluts of mozzarella (which very nearly made us three-way Lady and the Tramp in our fervor to snap it up), the dish was a miracle. Replete with sweet, perfectly marinated chicken containing just the right kick at the back of the throat, the dish was the classiest street food possible: gooey perfection.

Kimchili looks both forwards and behind themselves for inspiration, and comes back armed with ingenious takes on classic fare. Safe to say, we left our cutlery as gleaming as when we arrived.

Zach

Following the first installment of our column, I confess to scarcely venturing beyond my Sainsbury’s meal deal of choice (a mozzarella and sun-dried tomato wrap, for those interested). However, given the dark nights, it seemed an excellent opportunity to once more venture out into the Cambridge food scene. This time, to Mill Road’s up-and-coming culinary cousin, King Street.

We were greeted warmly at the cheerful Kimchili, bright and modern with just a touch of ’60s glamour. Yet, this little restaurant also serves as the stage for its founder, Ryu, to “share authentic Korean flavours, beyond Seoul”. Much as Seoul has become a cultural melting-pot between East and West, futuristic and retro, Kimchili offers both traditional and fusion cuisine. By pure chance, we got to sample both: the purist spicy red pepper paste stew well complementing the stir-fried chicken, a melding of Korean flavours with American style.

“The salty soy sauce counterbalancing the caramel-like sweetness of the sesame formed a dichotomy of sweet and sour at the broth’s core”

Our riveting pre-dinner debate was broken by the unexpected arrival of what Henry had assumed to be entrées. I was only too grateful for my portion of pickled courgette and julienne string beans, though, the palette-cleansing tanginess setting the stage for the cacophony of flavours to come. Salty kimchi was up next, warmed by a healthy dose of chili-powder, before a twist on the gamja salad left us eagerly anticipating les plats du jour.

We began with the traditional Gochujang Jjigae vegetarian stew, the distribution of which between our bowls a Nobel-prize-worthy act of mediation. It was certainly worth the wait, though, as the salty soy sauce counterbalancing the caramel-like sweetness of the sesame formed a dichotomy of sweet and sour at the broth’s core.

Moving onto the stir-fried chicken, the innovative fusion of the dish became immediately apparent. While the fried chicken appeared straight out of Memphis, the gochujang sauce, which again served as the flavourative base, left it instinctively Korean and, before long – set to a symphony of satisfaction – our bowls were practically raked clean. With a bow, they were quickly swept away, capping the restaurant’s excellent service.

Though it’s a challenge to take on cross-cultural fusion, Kimchili certainly delivers. Their street-style sharing dishes reflect the Seoul of today, bringing an international twist to classic flavours. At this rate, this little nook behind Waterstone’s will soon be queued out the door.