Korean culture has landed on Florida Boulevard
Seoul Stop is a convenience store, a photo booth, a claw machine, a ramen bar, and a carnival all at once. A second location is coming soon.
Walk into Seoul Stop on Florida Boulevard and give yourself a moment to take it all in.
There are CDs of Korean pop music. Claw machines loaded with Asian toys, the odds as long as ever. Jars of kimchi. Wasabi peas. Tamari teriyaki mochi crunch. Ice cream shaped like fried chicken drumsticks. Cookie-brownies among the Pocky sticks. And at the center of all of it: a ramen bar where you cook the soup yourself, watching the water pour and boil while you stir so the bottom of the bowl doesn't burn.
This is a wave of Korean culture arriving in Baton Rouge—and you can see the whole thing, in microcosm, in a shopping center near Airline Highway.
Why it matters: Seoul Stop has become popular enough to inspire a second location, this one coming to Siegen Lane, beside a Japanese Honda dealership, along one of those Baton Rouge ramshackle stretches. The street has the accidental poetry of a poorly-planned parish: car dealerships and big-box stores, plumbing supplies and discount liquor, an Asian supermarket, credit unions, taquerias, Twin Peaks.
What makes Seoul Stop different: Walk into some ethnic specialty stores and you'll spin in circles, unsure what anything is or how to use it. Seoul Stop's staff heads that off. They explain which ramen to choose, walk you through the toppings and tell you how to cook it.
The meal: With their guidance, I built a bowl—ramen with a packet of kimchi, pork wontons made daily (the best I've tasted in the parish), green onions. You can add cooked or fresh eggs if you want. I added a spicy tuna kimbap on the side. Though it was a mix of processed and fresh ingredients, the ramen was delicious, not the dorm version you remember from college.
I bought cookie-brownies on the way out, promising to return a day later to load up on Korean snacks.
The bottom line: Baton Rouge is getting more diverse, and our appetites are catching up. A city raised on red beans and rice now knows its way around pho, bánh mì, curry and sushi. Asian food is no longer a novelty here. It’s part of how Baton Rouge eats.
