Santa Clara’s Tastiest Charcoal-Grilled Korean Barbecue Spot Stays Open Until Midnight

The Midnight Diners is a regular collaboration between KQED food editor Luke Tsai and graphic novelist Thien Pham. Follow them each week as they explore the hot pot restaurants, taco carts and 24-hour casino buffets that make up the Bay Area’s after-hours dining scene.

I love the moment you first step into a proper Korean barbecue restaurant: The sweet, smoky smell of charred meat instantly seeps into your clothing. The industrial-size hood vents whir and hum, working overtime. And when the server hustles over to your table to line the edge of the grill with aluminum foil, then lowers a tray of red-hot charcoal into the pit? That’s when you know it’s really on.

Such are the charms of Korean Spring BBQ, one of the Bay Area’s last remaining Korean barbecue restaurants where the meat is still grilled over wood charcoal.

Located in a busy plaza in Santa Clara’s sprawling, informal Koreatown, Korean Spring doesn’t have the slick branding and Insta-optimized aesthetics of some of the newer high-end KBBQ hotspots and trendy AYCE wagyu purveyors. Instead, the place has more of an old-school, mom-and-pop vibe. The dining room is all utilitarian metallic surfaces, with minimal decor, and the people who come here seem like they come purely for the love of the meat — and for the clean, smoky char you can never quite get with a gas grill.

Of particular interest to us? The restaurant stays open until midnight six nights a week, and starting at 9 p.m., they serve a $200 “Midnight Menu” combo set that comes with four different cuts of USDA Prime beef, beef bone soup, a salad and a few other side dishes, plus your choice of soju, beer or soda. It’s a lavish barbecue feast for three or four meat lovers to share — and, as we soon learned, altogether too much food for two greedy midnight diners. Not that we went down without a fight.

At half past nine on a recent Friday night, the restaurant was about half full with parties of four or five — all Asians in their twenties and thirties, chatting happily in Mandarin and Korean. This is the kind of Korean barbecue joint where the staff grills the meat for you at the table, not one of those cook-it-yourself setups. Our friendly attendant got to work as soon as we placed our order, deftly flipping the meat on the hot grill and, in some cases, using scissors to cut it down into progressively smaller pieces.

Here in the Bay Area, even experienced Korean barbecue enthusiasts tend to stick with a handful of greatest hits — your ribeye bulgogi, pork belly and L.A. galbi. One nice thing about Korean Spring’s Midnight Menu is that it introduces a number of lesser-known but equally delicious cuts. We started with thinly sliced beef tongue, which was rich and earthy with a fun, snappy texture. Then came the outside skirt, one of our favorites, sliced about as thick as you would cut a steak for stir-fry and astonishingly tender; the flavor was deeply, deeply beefy. The rib finger — the meat between the rib bones, apparently — was the most steak-like of the cuts, with the same satisfying chew and juicy richness you might expect from a nicely grilled ribeye. And the thinly sliced brisket point had a lovely streak of fat in each piece that rendered out while the edges of the meat got nice and crispy.

Notably, none of these cuts are marinated, so what you taste is the pure flavor of the Prime-grade beef, with its rich marbling, enhanced by the smoke and char from the charcoal grill. The set comes with a variety of dipping options: doenjang (fermented soybean paste), wasabi, some kind of purple sea salt and, by far our favorite, a slurry of salt, pepper and sesame oil.

We also couldn’t resist ordering the marinated galbi, or short rib, as a $60 add-on. Here, they cut the well-marbled meat off the bone and grill it like thin strips of steak. We weren’t prepared for how soft and buttery this would be, the fatty parts literally melting away in our mouths. Afterwards, our friendly grill guy cut off the bits of meat and cartilage still attached to the bone and grilled those separately for another taste and texture — those crunchy-chewy bits of connective tissue were some of our favorite bites.

Meanwhile, the non-barbecue side dishes that come with the set all felt incredibly thoughtful, like they’d been carefully calibrated to balance out our meal. I would never think to order something called “tofu salad w/ almond” at a Korean barbecue restaurant, but this was fantastic — salad greens topped with very soft tofu and sliced almonds, then dressed with a sweet doenjang-based dressing. Every time I felt like all of the meat was getting too rich and heavy, I’d take a bite of salad, and then I’d be ready to keep going. A bowl of cloudy beef bone soup, garnished with green onions and served unseasoned, with salt on the side, served a similar palate-refreshing purpose.

And the classic steamed egg, or gyeran-jjim, was one of the best versions I’ve had — immaculately fluffy and light. Too often this dish deflates into a sad pancake as soon as you cut into it, but Korean Spring’s held its shape, and its delectable texture, over the course of the meal. The only side we weren’t a fan of was the cheese fondue; dipping our barbecue in melted cheese was a fun novelty, but not something we wanted to do more than once or twice.

Taken all together, this was more or less our platonic ideal of a Korean barbecue meal.

Note that Korean Spring isn’t one of those ssam specialists where they give you a half-dozen exotic lettuces to use to wrap your meats. Here, they only offered regular green lettuce — and we had to ask for it. The banchan selection is also pretty limited. Apart from the more substantial side dishes mentioned above, you really only get kimchi, a stack of marinated perilla leaves and a “salad” of pickled onions and jalapeños. But all of it is excellent. In particular, the kimchi is the kind made with whole napa cabbage, cut into bright, crunchy slivers. And I loved wrapping the beef inside the pickled perilla leaves, whose musky tang provided a nice counterpoint to the rich meat. Another essential for any KBBQ connoisseur: slices of raw garlic and jalapeños, refilled quickly and plentifully whenever we asked.

At $200 before any add-ons, the meal is a bit of a splurge even split between the three or four diners it’s intended to feed. But it’s a worthy splurge if you find yourself in a carnivorous mood and want to treat yourself late at night.

We dipped and double-dipped our meat in doenjang and sesame oil, wrapped it in lettuce accented with slivers of sharp, pungent garlic. We sipped our broth and then piled more meat on top of rice, reveling in the uniquely Korean pleasures of mixing and matching every bite, and then we went home with a ridiculous amount of leftovers. It was a good night.

Korean Spring BBQ is open Monday 11 a.m.–2 p.m. and 5–9 p.m., Tuesday to Friday 11 a.m.–2 p.m. and 5 p.m.–midnight, and Saturday to Sunday 11 a.m.–midnight at 1062 Kiely Blvd. in Santa Clara. The “Midnight Menu” is available after 9 p.m.