Korea has a drinking culture that rewards curiosity. The green bottle of soju is just the starting point — behind it lies a world of cloudy rice wine, fragrant herbal liquors, craft beer brewed with Korean ingredients, and deep ruby fruit wines that most visitors never think to order. If you're traveling to Korea, or simply sitting down at a Korean restaurant and wondering what to drink beyond the obvious, this guide is for you.
One rule applies to all of it: in Korea, alcohol comes with food. Anju — the food eaten alongside drinks — isn't optional. It's part of the experience, and each drink has its own natural pairings. Start with the drink, and the food will follow.
Soju: From the Green Bottle to the Good Stuff
The green bottle is everywhere. Chamisul, Chum Churum, Jinro, Saero — these are the commercial soju brands you'll find on every table at every Korean restaurant in the country. They're all diluted spirits, made by mixing neutral distilled alcohol with water and additives to land at around 16–25% ABV. Clean, colorless, and almost odorless (though the alcohol itself takes some getting used to), commercial soju is designed to go with everything — spicy stews, raw seafood, grilled pork, kimchi jjigae. The logic is simple: it doesn't compete with the food, it just keeps the table going.
Worth knowing: the green bottle isn't one thing. Each region of Korea has its own brand, its own name, and a slightly different flavor profile. If you're traveling outside Seoul, order the local soju — it's a small thing that locals will appreciate, and the differences are real.
One thing that often surprises visitors: fruit-flavored soju (peach, grape, strawberry) is a primarily export phenomenon. In Korea itself, it's not particularly popular among locals. If you want to drink like a Korean, stick to the original.
Now, the more interesting part. Alongside commercial soju, a category of traditional distilled soju has been quietly making a comeback. These are made by fermenting grain with nuruk — Korea's traditional fermentation starter — and distilling slowly, the way whisky or brandy is made. The result is a spirit with real depth, aroma, and character. Hwayo and Ilpoom Jinro are the most accessible entry points — available at most bars and restaurants, and a good way to understand what distilled soju actually tastes like. For the deeper end, traditional liquor specialty bars carry Andong soju and Munbaeju, a spirit with a distinctively pear-like aroma despite containing no pears. If the green bottle left you unimpressed, this is the version worth seeking out.
Pairs well with: Samgyeopsal (grilled pork belly), kimchi jjigae, spicy stir-fried dishes, raw seafood. The rule of thumb is bold, savory, high-seasoned food — soju cuts through the fat and heat cleanly.
Makgeolli: The Cloudy One Worth Shaking
Makgeolli is Korea's oldest alcoholic beverage, and it looks like nothing else: milky white, slightly fizzy, with sediment that settles at the bottom of the bottle. Before you pour, shake it — not like champagne, which will send it everywhere, but a gentle rolling motion to mix the sediment back in. That's where the flavor lives. Ask a nearby Korean — preferably an ajeossi — if you're not sure how.
The taste is unlike commercial soju or beer: lightly sweet and tangy, with a creamy, yogurt-like quality and enough body to feel genuinely satisfying. Think of it as somewhere between a tart lemonade and a light milky smoothie — refreshing, a little funky, and more delicious than it sounds. ABV sits around 6–8%, making it one of the lower-alcohol options on the table. For anyone who finds soju's alcohol aroma off-putting, makgeolli is an easy recommendation — approachable, affordable, and surprisingly refreshing.
In Seoul, the brands you'll most commonly encounter are Jipyeong Saengmakgeolli, Jangsu, Kooksoondang, and Neurin Maul. But the real discovery comes when you leave the city. Every region of Korea produces its own makgeolli from local ingredients, and the variety is remarkable: chestnut makgeolli from Gongju, pine nut makgeolli from Gapyeong, yuzu makgeolli from Goheung, peanut makgeolli from Udo Island in Jeju. Trying the local makgeolli wherever you are is one of the better travel habits you can develop in Korea.
Pairs well with: Pajeon (scallion pancake) is the classic — the pairing is so instinctive that many Koreans associate makgeolli specifically with rainy days and pancakes. Kimchi jeon, bossam (boiled pork wraps), and haemul pajeon (seafood pancake) all work equally well. The slight tanginess of makgeolli cuts through oil and richness beautifully.
Beer: Beyond the Brown Bottle
Korean beer's reputation as thin and unremarkable is partly earned and partly outdated. The dominant commercial lagers — Cass, Terra, Hite — are light, crisp, and built for volume. They're not designed to be sipped slowly; they're designed for somaek. Somaek is the mix of soju and beer that Koreans have turned into something approaching a ritual, with specific ratios debated seriously among friends. If you haven't tried it, you should.
But if you stop at the brown bottle, you're missing the current reality. Since regulatory changes in the early 2010s opened the market, a genuine craft brewing scene has taken hold across Korea. Small breweries in every region are producing ales, stouts, IPAs, and styles that incorporate local ingredients — yuzu, omija berries, rice, barley from specific growing areas. You don't even need to find a taproom: convenience stores across Korea now carry a rotating selection of domestic craft beers, often in collaboration with local brands. Grab a few, head to the Han River, and sort out which ones you like. It's one of the better ways to spend an evening in Seoul.
Pairs well with: Chimaek — fried chicken and beer — is the pairing with its own name, its own culture, and frankly its own logic. Beyond that: dried squid, corn cheese, tteokbokki, samgyeopsal. Beer's carbonation handles fat and spice well, which makes it one of the most versatile options at the table.
Yakju and Cheongju: The Fragrant Middle Ground
Between the boldness of soju and the cloudiness of makgeolli sits a category that doesn't get enough attention from first-time visitors: yakju and cheongju, clear fermented rice wines that are gentle, fragrant, and considerably more food-friendly than their reputation suggests.
Cheongju literally means "clear wine." It's brewed from rice and nuruk, filtered until transparent, and tends toward subtle floral and fruity notes with a clean finish. Yakju — technically a type of cheongju — carries the same clarity but was historically associated with medicinal herbs, giving some varieties a lightly herbal, botanical quality. Think of the category as occupying a space somewhere between Japanese sake and a dry white wine: lower in alcohol than soju, more refined than makgeolli, easy to drink with almost anything.
The brands you're most likely to encounter are Cheongha, Baekseju, Sansachun, and Hansan Sogokju. Baekseju in particular — infused with twelve herbs including ginseng, licorice root, and cinnamon — has been a staple of Korean bars and restaurants for decades. It goes down easily, which is both its appeal and its warning: it catches up with you faster than you'd expect.
Pairs well with: Light seafood, steamed dishes, namul (seasoned vegetable sides), and delicate preparations that would be overwhelmed by bolder drinks. The fragrance of yakju complements food without competing with it.
A Few More Worth Knowing
Korea's drinking tradition doesn't stop at the four categories above. Two more are worth knowing before you sit down at a Korean table.
Maesil-ju — plum wine — is one of the most familiar drinks in the Korean home. Made by steeping green or yellow plums in soju and letting them infuse for months, the result is fragrant, lightly sweet, and gently tart, with a golden color and a soft finish that's nothing like commercial soju. It's widely available at convenience stores, restaurants, and bars, and many Korean households make their own version every summer when the plums come into season. Serve it chilled, neat or over ice.
Bokbunja-ju, made from Korean wild black raspberries, is the deeper red option — richer, more intense, and closer in profile to a fruit wine than a liqueur. It has a sweet-tart balance and enough body to hold up to food. The name, in literal translation, means something along the lines of "the fruit that overturns a chamber pot" — a reference to an old Korean folk legend about the berry's rather vigorous restorative properties. Koreans will happily elaborate if you ask. It was famously served at the 2005 APEC summit and the 2009 inter-Korean summit dinner, which suggests the name hasn't hurt its reputation any. Also best served chilled.
Both are good entry points for anyone who finds soju too sharp or makgeolli too unfamiliar. Order either one cold and see where it takes you.
Korea's drinking culture is, at its core, a culture of hospitality. Whatever is in the glass is secondary to who's around the table and what's being shared. The best way into it is simply to order something unfamiliar, ask what it goes with, and let the evening unfold from there. The options, as you now know, are considerably more interesting than the green bottle suggests.
FAQ
Do I have to drink alcohol to participate in Korean drinking culture?
Not at all — but understanding the culture helps regardless. The social structure around drinking (the shared table, the anju, the group dynamic) applies even if you're drinking something non-alcoholic. Most Korean bars and restaurants will accommodate non-drinkers, especially if you're eating with a group.
What is somaek?
Somaek is a mixture of soju and beer, usually a light lager. It's one of the most popular ways to drink in Korea, and the optimal ratio of soju to beer is a matter of personal conviction. Start somewhere around 3:7 (soju to beer) and adjust from there.
Is there a polite way to decline more drinks?
Keeping your glass half-full is the classic move — Koreans are less likely to refill a glass that isn't empty. A hand over the glass also works. The culture is shifting, particularly among younger Koreans, and declining is far more accepted than it used to be.
Where can I find craft makgeolli and traditional spirits in Korea?
Seoul has a growing number of traditional liquor specialty stores (전통주 전문점) that carry regional makgeolli, distilled soju, and other traditional spirits. Neighborhoods like Insadong, Ikseon-dong, and parts of Hongdae are good places to start. Many convenience stores also now carry a broader range of makgeolli brands than they did even a few years ago.
What's the easiest Korean drink to start with?
Makgeolli is the most approachable entry point for most people — low in alcohol, lightly sweet and tangy, and completely unlike anything in the Western drinking canon. It's also cheap, widely available, and best enjoyed with pajeon on a rainy evening, which is as good an introduction to Korean drinking culture as any.