A decade after arriving in Korea, malatang (spicy Chinese soup) has evolved from Sichuan hot pot into a mainstream cross-generational favorite that is reshaping spicy food trends at home and abroad.
A Sichuan-style hot pot is served at a restaurant in Daerim-dong, Yeongdeungpo District, Seoul, a neighborhood home to large communities of ethnic Korean Chinese and Chinese residents. Originating in China's Sichuan Province, hot pot is widely regarded as the precursor to modern malatang (spicy Chinese soup), with diners cooking meat, vegetables and other ingredients together in a shared pot at the table.MOON JUNG-HOON
Moon Jung-hoon
The author is a professor of agricultural economics and rural development at Seoul National University and director of the Food Business Lab.
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It has been more than a decade since malatang (literally "numbing and spicy soup") first arrived in Korea and began attracting a loyal following. The spicy, bright red soup has grown into a cultural phenomenon that far outlasts earlier food fads such as tanghulu (a Chinese candied fruit snack), Yoajung yogurt desserts and "dujjonku", a chewy cookie inspired by the viral Dubai chocolate trend. What began as a favorite among teenagers and people in their 20s has spread across generations, with consumers in their 40s now embracing the dish without hesitation.
The roots of malatang can be traced to the hot pot culture of 19th-century Sichuan Province in China. Laborers gathered around a large pot filled with beef tallow, Sichuan peppercorns, known as huajiao, and dried chili peppers, cooking inexpensive cuts and animal offal together. Huajiao provides the distinctive numbing sensation represented by the character ma, while chili peppers supply the fiery heat expressed by la. Hot pot was both an affordable meal and a form of communal comfort food for workers.
Modern Sichuan hot pot relies on far more than peppercorns and chili peppers. It incorporates a wide variety of spices along with Pixian doubanjiang, the fermented broad bean and chili paste that forms the foundation of many Sichuan dishes. Made by fermenting broad beans and chili peppers separately before aging them together, the paste resembles a combination of soybean paste and red pepper paste in Korean cuisine. It is also the defining ingredient in Sichuan's famous mapo doufu (spicy tofu).
The numbing flavor, heat and aroma of mala are fat-soluble, dissolving into the beef tallow rather than the broth itself. Because the oil continues to rise in temperature as it is heated, cooks add broth or tea to the pot. In Chengdu, adding jasmine tea to hot pot is a long-standing tradition that lends the dish a delicate floral fragrance. The oil floats on top of the liquid, allowing the ingredients to cook gently at around 100 degrees Celsius (212 degrees Fahrenheit) rather than fry. As a result, the ingredients emerge coated with layers of spicy, numbing and aromatic flavors that broth alone could never produce.
Later, vendors in Sichuan began skewering ingredients on bamboo sticks, blanching them in the hot pot broth and serving them in individual bowls. This style became known as chuanchuanxiang. It was the direct predecessor of today's malatang, though it still differed from the version familiar to Korean diners. The dish underwent another major transformation hundreds of miles away in northeastern China.
In the early 2000s, restaurants in Harbin developed a milder recipe using long-simmered bone broth, smaller amounts of mala spices and a sauce made from sesame and peanuts. Unlike traditional Sichuan hot pot or chuanchuanxiang, whose broth was intended primarily for cooking ingredients rather than drinking, the northeastern version became a hearty noodle soup designed to be consumed as a complete meal. This is the style of malatang that eventually gained widespread popularity in Korea.
Since arriving in Korea, malatang has continued to evolve. The numbing effect of Sichuan peppercorns has been toned down, while the spiciness has shifted toward the familiar profile of Shin Ramyun. More recently, some restaurants have experimented with incorporating gochujang (chili paste), transforming the dish into something closer to a Korean-style soup. Many diners now even eat it with rice, creating what has come to be known as mala gukbap.
Mala's popularity has also spread rapidly into countless other foods. Mala ramyeon, fried chicken and hamburgers are now commonplace, while Korean dishes such as jokbal (steamed and seasoned pork feet), braised chicken and tteokbokki (spicy rice cakes) have all been reinvented with mala seasoning. As malatang has flourished, even consumption of tteokbokki, one of Korea's signature street foods, has declined. The country's landscape of spicy food is quietly being reshaped.
Interestingly, malatang never achieved comparable popularity in Japan until recently. Since 2024, however, interest has surged after Korean idols and influencers frequently featured the dish on social media. Korean restaurant companies specializing in malatang have also expanded into the Japanese market with notable success. The trend resembles the global rise of foods such as Buldak Bokkeum Myeon ("Hot Chicken Flavor Ramen") and Korean-style fried chicken, neither of which were traditional Korean cuisine but nevertheless became symbols of K-food. It is tempting to imagine that the Korean interpretation of mala could become the next culinary export. The rapid spread of mala underscores one lesson above all: the remarkable power of sauces. Because sauces can be adapted to almost any dish, they may once again prove to be the driving force behind the next wave of food innovation.
This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.