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The second drunkest night of my life began during my first Korean BBQ dinner in Seoul. You see, like you, I had no idea what a true Korean BBQ (from henceforth known as K-BBQ) experience was like. My coworkers and I arrived at a large, opulent-but-minimalist restaurant and were taken upstairs to our private room, where 8 Korean salarymen were waiting for us.

Over the next few hours, soju ran through the room like a river. Bottles were emptied, and new bottles were delivered without anyone asking. Meat was constantly being cooked. Everything became a blur of meat sweats and soju. The next thing I know, I'm in a minivan (whose?) being driven back to the hotel with the whole crew to continue drinking and eating until who knows when.

I woke up the next morning stinking of booze, bacon, and kimchi, the contents of my suitcase were spread across the floor (a graceful attempt to find something?), and my contacts were glued to my eyeballs. An hour later, one of the same salarymen from the night before picked us up and exuberantly exclaimed, "that's how you do Korean BBQ!"

To truly experience K-BBQ as it's meant to be, you must get fucked up. Shitfaced. Hammered. That means you're either drinking soju or makgeolli (the former is almost like vodka, the latter exists only to give you awful hangovers the next day), plus beer to wash it down.

No one knows this better than my friend David Choi, owner of Seoul Q and Seoul Taco. Fearing I wouldn't be able to handle all the drinking and eating with just the two of us, I invited chef Russ Bodner to come along too.

There's no pussyfooting around the fact you need to come to Seoul Q prepared for a battle. You're going to eat—a lot.