
Address and Contact Information
Address: 316 SE 123rd Ave #C3, Vancouver, WA 98683
Phone: (360) 258-1272
Website: http://www.kingkongkoreanbbq.com/
Menu Photos
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Related Web Results
Kingkong Korean BBQ
KingKong Korean BBQ – Visit Vancouver WA
New Korean BBQ place in the area? | Vancouver, WA – Facebook
Reviews
Once that issue is taken care of, though, you’re pretty much left to your own devices, and your satisfaction is solely based on what you order, and how well you cook it. Well, almost. In this case, for the most part, the cuts of meat were as good as any other Korean BBQ, but there were some that were decidedly not.
Winners: bulgogi, miso pork belly, la galbi short ribs, steamed egg, all the side dishes and sauces.
Losers: just about everything else, including the service; the employees were well-meaning and nice enough, but they were obviously very green, awkward, and forgetful.
Despite being on the “premium” menu, avoid the King Kong Steak and the King Kong Marinated Beef, both of which are thick, tough slabs of meat that are took difficult to grill properly, especially when there are any of the aforementioned grill heating problems, and even then, they’re just too thick, and not particularly appetizing. We also had some uninspired “cajun” shrimp, which is just regular shrimp with a dusting of seasoning on top.
In fact, if it weren’t for the LA Galbi short ribs, I’d say you can safely ignore the “premium” menu altogether, and just stick with the basics. That way, you can have an enjoyable meal, without paying extra for things you aren’t likely to enjoy.
There are better Korean BBQ places out there, but I wouldn’t be opposed to giving King Kong another shot in the future. I just wouldn’t pay anything more than standard price.
I don’t normally leave reviews, but after what happened at King Kong Korean BBQ, I feel morally obligated to warn others.
It all started with the side dishes, which looked–and tasted–like they’d been pulled out of a sink drain. Soggy, room-temp, and wildly depressing. The kimchi had all the flavor of damp paper, the bean sprouts were limp and lifeless, and the rest looked like it had given up on life halfway through being made.
Then the meat arrived. And dear god. Every cut was gray, chewy, and completely unseasoned. The steak? A true monstrosity. I took one bite, started chewing, and then realized it wasn’t going anywhere. I was choking. Not in a dramatic way–I mean literal hands-in-my-mouth, pulling a slimy wad of meat out of my throat like I was performing amateur surgery at the table. I made eye contact with God for a second and even he looked disappointed.
We were so baffled by how awful everything tasted that we genuinely thought we were the problem. Maybe we were cooking it wrong? Maybe there was some magical Korean BBQ technique we were missing? So we asked our server for help–and he completely dismissed us. Didn’t explain anything, didn’t offer tips, didn’t even pretend to care. He just muttered, “Just put the meat on, I’ll let you know when it looks okay to eat,” and walked away like he had better things to do than prevent food poisoning. Spoiler alert: “looks okay to eat” is apparently code for raw and chewy enough to double as resistance training for your jaw.
While I was still recovering from my near-death experience, the staff came over three different times to tell us to “come to the front and check out.” Mind you, we still had full plates of untouched food (because it was all vile), and there were only two other tables in the entire restaurant. What was the rush? Were they trying to free up the space for the next health code violation?
And just when we thought the worst was over–my boyfriend was struck with a sudden, violent wave of diarrhea. Three bites too many and my man had to sprint to the bathroom like his life depended on it (because frankly, it did). And guess what? No toilet paper. Not a single square. He had to text me from the stall begging for supplies. I’m not kidding–we have photo proof of this humiliating toilet paper crisis. I can’t make this up.
As I sit here writing this review, I feel genuinely nauseous. My stomach is cramping, I’m sweating, and I’m 90% sure this place gave me PTSD and possibly a parasite. King Kong didn’t just ruin dinner–it declared war on my digestive system.
And for the cherry on top of this gastrointestinal nightmare, they charged us $80 for the privilege of choking, gagging, and watching my boyfriend sprint to a toilet with no paper. Honestly, the only surprise was that they didn’t hit us with their advertised $10-per-unfinished-plate surcharge–which, considering how inedible everything was, would’ve been a bold move. I guess they showed a sliver of mercy by not charging extra for the piles of untouched disappointment we left behind. Small blessings, I suppose.
King Kong? More like King Wrong. Do not come here unless you have a stomach of steel and someone in your party who’s highly trained in the Heimlich maneuver.
On top of it. They had the balls to still charge for the food we didn’t eat. Absolutely the worse place to go.