From a street‑side tentage, the first thing to arrive at the table was this bowl of fish cake soup. Clear broth, chewy fish cakes, a sprinkle of chilli and seaweed. Simple and unfussy, yet it carried the kind of warmth that hits differently when the night air outside is cold. More than just a starter, it felt like a welcome gesture, the kind of soul‑soothing comfort that makes pojangmacha dining so memorable.