Fine Dining & Sustainability at Shia Korean Restaurant!

Join us to enjoy an exclusive 5-course tasting menu ($100/pp) at Chef Edward Lee's groundbreaking restaurant - Shia - in the Union Market District!

Note from SHIA: Due to our committment to sustainability and preventing food waste, we prepare specific ingredients for each guest daily. A charge of $85 per guest will be applied to any cancellations within 48 hours of the booking.

$85 Event Registration fee will be applied to each guests's bill. Event registration fee is only refundable if the seat is filled by another guest prior to the dinner. Thank you for your understanding.

**Note from Shia re:Dietary Restrictions:**
Due to the inclusion of ingredients integral to Korean culture and cuisine, we cannot accommodate the following dietary restrictions: celiac, soy, legume, nightshade vegetable, or allium. We can accommodate vegan, vegetarian, pescatarian, seafood allergies, shellfish allergies, and nut allergies. The adjusted dishes our chefs have created for these dietary restrictions will be vegetarian, as we do not have the ability to substitute proteins. Individuals with aversions to seafood may not fully enjoy the experience, as a large portion of our menu is seafood-based at this time. Please note that our kitchen operates on a minimal-waste, sustainability-driven model. This means we do not stock additional ingredients for last-minute changes. If we receive notice less than 48 hours before your reservation, we may need to omit elements of dishes rather than substitute additional ingredients. Please let us know right away so we can prepare with care.

The Washington Post (Sietsema)

Over my decades-long watch, few restaurant genres have witnessed more changes in and around Washington than Korean.

Back in 2000, the majority of sources were in the Virginia suburbs, where the menus mostly revolved around tried-and-true mandu, bulgogi, seafood pancakes and barbecue. Before the rise of social media, restaurants that specialized in certain dishes — say, Tosokjip in Annandale, known for its grilled fish and stews — existed under the radar, supported primarily by the Korean community, recalls restaurateur Danny Lee, one of the agents for change on the D.C. scene.

Over the years, practitioners started cooking outside the lines and experimenting with fusion. The arrival of Lee’s Chiko and Anju in the District saw chefs feeding us Korean fused with Chinese American ideas and serving upscale homestyle cooking. Service (and alcohol beyond beer and soju) became a priority at restaurants including Ingle Korean Steakhouse in Vienna, and Korean chefs, following the lead of the trailblazing Atomix in New York, hopped on the fine-dining bandwagon with tasting menus. I miss the short-lived Incheon in Annandale but welcome the youthful Onggi in Dupont Circle.

Since November, chef and cookbook author Edward Lee is pushing the envelope even more, with a gem called Shia — “seed” in Korean — tucked in the Union Market District. It’s a slip of a place with a dozen seats in the front bar and nearly double that number in a narrow dining room behind a slatted maple door. What distinguishes Shia from the pack is that it’s part of the chef’s nonprofit, the LEE Initiative, originally introduced as a mentoring program. Further, Shia is experimenting with all manner of limited-waste and sustainable practices, which is why some drinks arrive sans garnishes, and there’s no gas and zero plastic. After the kitchen turns them into pulp, used cocktail napkins and printer tickets enjoy afterlives as postcards and coasters.

No one preaches here, by the way; they just quietly set good examples. Lee wants his clientele to experience Shia as a restaurant vs. a lecture hall.

“This is how we say hello,” says a server as he places a little cup in front of us, trailed by a snack: a hot oyster and scallop bundled in jin, or seaweed. The dish, which you eat with your hands, marries hot seafood, cool Asian pear and spicy ssamjang, an exquisite bite that’s gone as fast as you can read this sentence. The contents of the cup, a tea made with soju and dried omija berries, are refreshingly sweet-tart.

Guests seated at the bar are offered a five-course menu; those seated in the dining room, host to the open kitchen, receive seven courses. Shia remains enough of a tough reservation that I’ve been able to secure a seat only in the lounge, a serene space with gold lights, a concave ceiling and wallpaper that depicts clouds mingling with mountains.

Scrolls of amberjack arranged on thin red rings of fermented fish paste and lemon juice are topped with little balls of foam that taste like kimchi “air.” (The finishing touch demonstrates Shia’s no-waste goal; the cloud is excess liquid from making kimchi, passed through an aerator.) The lovely fish dish is a spin on the refreshing Korean summer dish mul hwe, to which a delicate, fresh-tasting green chip is added. (The fillip turns out to be hand-harvested gamtae, the rarest of seaweeds in Korea.) We miss the small plate when it’s gone, but only until the pork belly replaces it. Finger lengths of the braised meat share a canvas with abalone and clams scattered on a soothing porridge of barley, buckwheat, millet and three kinds of rice infused with dashi. “Try to get a bite in each bite,” a server coaches my party. Rising from the center is a little tower of fierce white kimchi, which the server says to save for last, “but you do you.”

Some nights look like an evening out in Seoul. My visits found different generations of Koreans sharing Lee’s handiwork, a reality the chef addresses with menus printed in Korean as well as English. The owner sees adventure-seeking younger Koreans come in to check the place out, then return with their parents to share the novelty. The Korean menu is meant to make older customers “feel at home.”

Surely the saengseon contributes to the sentiment. A square of seared braised sea bass — line-caught, of course — lounges in a liquid salad of crisp greens and broth and practically demands my return engagement. The intoxicating flavor of the soup springs from what Max Chuvalas, who shares the executive-chef title with Chaelin Lee, calls a “fish tea,” an elixir coaxed from fish scraps and white kimchi juice.

I also admire the duck, glazed with Korean mustard and presented so the sliced meat alternates with same-sized pieces of gently crisp mountain yam. The accompanying steamed rice, offered in a raised wooden bowl and bulked up with ginkgo nuts, aster, shepherd’s weed and thistle, nearly steals the show. The greens are another salute to sustainability: “Where Americans might see weeds, Koreans see edible flora,” says Chuvalas, who comes to Shia from Dirty Habit but has worked in fine-dining restaurants before. Those who opt for five courses choose between the fish and the duck. The seven-course plan includes both indulgences. My strategy at the bar with a companion has been to order one of each and share tastes.

When I first started as The Washington Post’s critic, Asian desserts were mostly predictable. Green tea ice cream was almost always involved. Shia demonstrates how far the scene has come, with endings including bruleed bananas staged with banana chips, same-flavored ice cream and soy chocolate sauce, a fruit salad that changes with the season but always looks like a brilliant orchard, and a honey tuile hovering over apricot foam. The longer script in the dining room embraces extra sweets — caramels and what tastes like a pecan pie from Korea (pine nuts and dates are involved) — revealed in a handsome mirrored box.

In recent years, chefs of all stripes have gotten better about offering tasting menu portions that are neither too tiny nor too filling. No one feels compelled to go to the Golden Arches after a meal at Shia, nor will they feel the need to let out their belt. “I’m 53,” says Lee. “As I get older, I don’t have the patience for 20 courses and three hours” of sitting and eating. The chef feels that seven courses, the max here, honors “efficiency and variety.”

Hear! Hear! And go! Go!
Looking forward to sharing this experience with you!

Menus change seasonally. Please see latest menu and information on new dishes on menu on OpenTable here and Instagram page.

We ask that ALL folks honor their RSVP. If you are unable to attend after sending in a YES, please update your status so that others may join. In the event our group incurs a fee for no-shows / late cancellations, your ability to RSVP for future events will be restricted. Thank you in advance for your understanding.

WAITLIST:
Meetup does not allow a waitlist for paid events. If this event fills and you are interested in adding your name to the waitlist, please send host a message through the app.

In the future, we will vary the days of the week and the types of restaurants so that we can attract many different types of diners. Feel free to make suggestions for future meet locations. All diners will pay their own tab. before departing the event.

If you are unable to join us in February we hope you'll stay interested and join us for a meal in the future. Looking forward to catching up with you for a fantastic dinner at Shia!