I remember the first time I felt major culture shock, it was when I moved from Oahu to Miami for college.

Miami was a long way from home, and after spending my childhood in Hawaiʻi, I was ready to get off the rock. Little did I know that homesickness was gonna hit me like a truck.

At first, it was just fun and exciting; new experiences, new people, new city. But the first thing that hit me was the food… after 2 weeks of dining hall food, I had had enough.

There were not many other Asian or mixed kids around. I didn’t meet many people who could relate to me, and if you have ever been to Miami, you know it is a food desert for good Asian food.

So after making some friends, I decided to put them on to some authentic Asian food. I went on Yelp and searched for the highest-rated Korean restaurant nearby. We took an Uber to the spot, and the whole time I had been hyping up Meat Jun, telling them about how delicious it was.

We got seated at our table, and I was scanning the menu, but no Meat Jun. I was confused, so I asked the waiter, and she looked at me like I had three heads. She replied with “What is Meat Jun?”

In that very embarrassing moment, I realized two things: maybe Meat Jun was a local thing, and maybe I should check the menu before arriving at a restaurant.

Once I started talking to some of my other local friends who had left the islands to live on the continent, I realized that my Meat Jun experience was not unique. Turns out it’s basically a canon event for kids from Hawaiʻi. You leave, you find a Korean restaurant, you look for Meat Jun… and then you realize it doesn’t exist.

That’s when I started getting curious.

In Korea, there’s a dish called jeon. It’s been around for centuries, going back to the Joseon dynasty. The concept is simple: you take meat, fish, or vegetables, coat it lightly in flour and egg, and pan-fry it. It’s not some complicated, heavily sauced dish. It’s pretty minimal, usually served in small pieces, and often eaten during holidays or family gatherings.

Meat Jun, the way we know it in Hawaiʻi, is completely different. Instead of small, delicate pieces, you get large slices of beef. Instead of a light coating, it’s thicker, richer, and almost always marinated in a sweet, soy-based sauce. And most importantly, it’s not a side dish, it’s the main event, served with rice and mac salad as part of a full plate lunch.

At that point, it became pretty clear that this wasn’t just Korean food brought over unchanged. Something had happened to it in Hawaiʻi.

From what I found, Meat Jun as we know it today likely developed in Hawaiʻi, particularly on Oʻahu, sometime in the 1970s. A lot of people trace its origins back to the Kim Chee restaurants, especially Kim Chee #1 in Kāneʻohe, which is often credited as one of the first places to serve it.

Over time, it spread. Other Korean restaurants started serving it, and it slowly became part of the local food landscape. It fit perfectly into Hawaiʻi’s plate lunch culture, big portions, bold flavors, something filling and familiar.

At some point along the way, it stopped being just a Korean dish and became something distinctly local.

Looking back, it makes sense why that moment in Miami felt so confusing. To me, Meat Jun was just Korean food. It was something I grew up with, something I thought was standard. But outside of Hawaiʻi, it doesn’t really exist in the same way.

And that’s what makes it interesting.

Meat Jun isn’t fake Korean food, and it’s not a misunderstanding. It’s the result of Korean food adapting to a completely different place, shaped by local tastes, restaurant culture, and the broader mix of communities in Hawaiʻi.

It’s Korean in origin, but it was really created in Hawaiʻi.

And once I understood that, that awkward moment in the restaurant started to make a lot more sense.

Step One: Slice the Meat

Optional: Freeze the beef for 30–45 minutes first to make slicing easier

Step Two: Make the Marinade

Step Three: Marinate the Beef

Tip: Do not exceed 3 hours, or it gets too salty.
- Depending on the thickness of the beef, the marination time will change. The thicker the meat, the longer; if it is very thin (like shabu-shabu beef), 15-20 minutes is sufficient.

Step Four: Prep Coating Station

Step Five: Heat Oil

Step Six: Dredge & Dip

For each slice of marinated beef:

Tip: Immediately place into the pan (don’t let it sit)

Step Seven: Pan Fry

Tip: Do not overcrowd pan, cook in batches. Between each batch make sure to fine-mesh skimmer to remove any remaining batter.

Step Eight: Drain

Step Nine: Make the Dipping Sauce

Step Ten: Slice & Serve