Don’t let the dodgy strip mall location off Western deceive: Bukchon’s wood-adorned, elegant Old World-style interiors house one of the city’s more unapologetically traditionalist menus. Between the soojaebi (Korean soup with torn pasta) and samgyetang (Korean chicken soup) is a kalguksu that’s gaining serious buzz around town. The clam kalguksu has a refreshing broth and is adorned with buchu, or flat garlic chive, and the anchovy is as worthy a bowl of soup noodles as any in town. Though a relative newcomer, expect the restaurant to become one of the city’s strip mall stalwarts.

Chef Danny Lee is still killing the noodle game in Los Angeles, but his chewy noodles are perhaps best in one of the most divisive (and funky) broths this side of the Pacific Ocean: kong-guksu, or soybean broth cold noodles. It's akin to eating noodles steeped in soy milk, except this version of soy milk is made fresh on premises and lends itself well to a pairing with a vinegary, punchy bit of kimchi. It's not only a healthy source of protein, but it's an incredibly popular dish for Koreans in the summer months as an alternative to naengmyeon.

Korean banquet noodles, or janchi guksu, are proof that Korean flavors aren’t necessarily a dialed-up, in-your-face affair. The noodle and gimbap stand at California Market might adorn their janchi guksu with a generous helping of scallion, but the dish is still a refreshing exercise in finesse — the clean anchovy based broth closely resembles a Japanese dashi broth without the smokiness afforded by bonito. With a helping hand from zucchini, puffy morsels of fried bean curd and zucchini for texture, it’s a slightly unorthodox but delicious rendition of the Korean wedding favorite.

Koreatown cold noodle darling Yu Chun prides itself on the quality of its beef broth enough to dole it out in little complimentary cups — it’s this beef broth that serves as the base for its famous mulnaengmyeon, and Yuchun’s rendition is best enjoyed with the dark kudzu starch noodles, otherwise known as chik naengmyeon. Remember to ease in the mustard and vinegar — there are no refunds for ruined bowls.

Myung Dong's kalguksu refers to a posh district in Seoul, north of the Han River (Gangbuk) where there is actually an alley of competing kalguksu spots squeezed into one small area. Though the kalguksu at Myung Dong Kyoja don't quite match up to the noodle shacks in the district it references (by a long shot, actually), it's still a strong rendition of the dish, with a flavorful, thick broth serving as the base for less-than-chewy noodles topped with ground beef. The kimchi here is notoriously garlic-heavy and great for dunking in the soup to give it a little heat and extra flavor.

Sure, Paik’s Noodle House’s jaengban jjajangmyeon could look better — it’s a stir-fried mess of black bean sauce, pork, shrimp and vegetables on a plate intended for two — but it’s likely no one cares when it tastes as good as it does. The slightly spicy version of the Korean Chinese classic is cheap, greasy, carbohydrate-laden junk food of the most crave-worthy order.

China Gate has been a fixture in Koreatown for decades, and their jjajangmyeon is as delicious as ever. With a chewy bed of flour noodles adorned with nice thick cubes of pork and a sauce that's just the right side of greasy and savory, it's classic Korean-Chinese comfort food served up in no-frill digs a little north of Dewey Ave. and Olympic Blvd.

At every Korean BBQ outing, there is one unscrupulous person at your table who will survey the banchan, grab the dish of japchae and put it near them. They will proceed to eat the whole thing before the grill starts to get warm. Find that person, and take them to Jeon Ju, and order a plate of their perfectly made, Korean-party-ready japchae. Make sure to bring a book or have some reading material on your phone to avoid looking weird eating by yourself.

The jjajangmyeon and jjampong at Yong-Goong (or Dragon) invokes a certain type of nostalgia for Korean Americans who have had the experience of dining here for weddings, first birthdays, or perhaps a certain mom's Korean American Librarians and Information Professionals meetings (don't ask). The jjampong doesn't skimp on the seafood, and the heat from the spices can reach pretty extreme levels. Worthy side dishes include an order of tangsuyuk (Korean sweet and sour pork) or the Dragon's tender Mongolian Beef.

Kobawoo's most famous non-bossam dish is the jangban guksu, and with good reason. The cold, chewy acorn-starch noodles are counter-balanced with the crunchy texture of thinly sliced red cabbage, carrots and cucumbers. Mixed together, it's something like a Korean noodle salad, with gochujang spice binding the entire light and refreshing experience with savory and sweet undertones.

As long as the recipe doesn't change, few places are as worthy of being a permanent fixture on any "best Korean noodles" list as The Corner Place's dongchimi guksu. Refreshing, acidic, vinegary broth is paired with a bed of flour noodles that are simply gone too soon. Pair it with some solid barbecue for an optimal experience — or just order another bowl.