A basement music venue in Haebangchon. House and techno played properly loud, and classic cocktails made by hand.
Doors 19:00. It doesn't really start until 22:00.
The first thing you notice is the music. It's loud, and it isn't background.
Nancho was built by a DJ and a bartender who refused to choose between the two. Top-of-the-line decks, booth monitors a guest can actually hear, and no rules about what gets played — house, techno, drum and bass, 2-step. Whatever the night wants.
Then the drinks arrive, and people are surprised.
An orchid has no nutrients of its own. It needs a particular fungus in the soil just to sprout, months to bloom, and constant attention after that — the right light, the right moisture, the petals cleaned by hand.
Get it wrong and nothing happens. Get it right and it lasts, which is why in Korea the orchid stands for nobility and constancy.
It seemed like the right thing to name a bar after.
I had my first in Tokyo ten years ago and it's been my favourite since. Most Korean guests have never had a cocktail that's spicy and savoury instead of sweet and sour — tabasco, worcestershire, salt. People either hate it or fall for it completely. Mine is built to be provocative on purpose, and it stays at the top of the menu for the one person a night who's been missing it.
The original recipe never made sense to me, and it didn't taste good either. It took months of pulling from recipes around the world before I had one I was proud to call mine. It's the drink I most want to serve another bartender, and it is never coming off the menu.
Below Shinheung Market, down the alley, down the stairs. Look for the red LED sign.
Directions