I've eaten at Korean restaurants all over California. This sizzling rice bowl is the best one I've tried

San Francisco Chronicle​

14-05-2025

I like bibimbap. But I adore its dashing sibling: dolsot bibimbap. Prepared in a scorching hot stone pot, it improves on the classic Korean rice and veggie dish by giving rice the top billing. The grains slowly sear in oil against scalding rock, yielding a magical crust and unlocking flavors absent in a typical bibimbap.
This is the culinary tradition known as scorched rice, where the grains are intentionally cooked until toasted but not yet burnt — though some cuisines openly welcome char. It's a risky technique but produces vivid aroma in dishes like Persian tahdig, Vietnamese com cháy and Puerto Rican arroz con grandules, whose prized bottom layer is called pegao.
Recently, I found my ideal dolsot bibimbap at Vivid Bibim, a new Korean restaurant in San Leandro. Run by brothers Yeon and Jun Choi, the casual restaurant has a long menu of stews and shareable platters, but the stone pot bibimbap outshines everything else. There is $2 to $5 upcharge from the standard version — a small price to pay for greatness.
The dolsot arrives at the table sizzling furiously. Close your eyes and it sounds like popping corn, and it tastes like it too. Clinging to the stone walls with the force of a powerful magnet, the crisped rice tastes nutty and faintly bittersweet. But the best part is its chewy, shatteringly crunchy texture. Its distinctive crackle is owed to its blend of white and black glutinous rice, whose runoff color dyes the former lavender.
Equally eye-catching is a halo of vegetables — 10 different kinds — like mushrooms, carrots, radishes and bean sprouts, which encircle a fried egg and the meat (or tofu) of your choice. Beef is the most popular, but my highest marks go to the seafood mix ($24.95), bouncy shrimp and calamari in a spicy-sweet sauce. While the price tag for a seemingly simple rice dish may seem high, the value lies in its portion — one order could easily feed two.
The staff instructs you to season the bibimbap with a spiral of gochujang, the thick pepper paste in red squeeze bottles, and mix it all together — ensuring to scrape the pot walls to liberate every stuck grain. However, I like to wait a little longer, allowing the rice armor to fortify, before mixing. When all of the elements are fully integrated, try to get a spoonful of every component; an ideal bite has freshness from veggies, crunch from the scorched rice, spice from gochujang and richness from meat. Accompany it with a line of splendid banchan — eight repositories of crunch, funk and spice — like julienned potato salad, which I prefer over the more common sweet version, and nutty kale salad with delicate smokiness.
Vivid Bibim opened in January, replacing JP Seoul Tofu House in a strip mall. Jun runs the business side of things and Yeon, who has over 30 years of restaurant experience, is the chef. The full-service Korean restaurant is slowly finding its audience through word of mouth. It has an inviting vibe with gracious hospitality; staff offer advice — like the best mixing practices for the bibimbap, for example — and routinely replenish side dishes. The brothers hope to create an environment closer to a bapjip, a place that serves meals with 'the comfort and care of eating at home,' said Jun.
To make the dish, Yeon heats the dolsot directly over flame. Then he adds sesame oil followed by multi-grain rice, which sears for up to 10 minutes to form its indomitable rice phalanx. Yeon relies on sound, smell and intuition to gauge when it's ready. For the brothers, the dish sparks memories of eating with their neighbors in Korea.
'It has everything I would want and need in a meal,' Jun said. 'I never get sick of (it).'
Me neither.
Vivid Bibim. Noon-8 p.m. Thursday-Sunday. 14393 Washington Ave., Suite J, San Leandro. vividbibim.com or 510-878-1338