Food delivery in Korea is so familiar today that ordering dinner can feel almost automatic. Open an app, choose a restaurant, pay on your phone, and follow the order until it arrives at your door.
But that is not how I first knew food delivery. When I was younger, we kept Chinese restaurant flyers or magnets near the telephone, called the restaurant directly, gave our apartment building and unit number, and waited for the sound of a delivery motorcycle outside.
I grew up through much of the change from telephone orders and metal delivery boxes to smartphones and real-time tracking. The technology has changed dramatically, but the basic appeal has remained surprisingly consistent: sometimes you simply want someone to bring dinner to you.
Food Delivery in Korea Is Older Than Delivery Apps
Food delivery in Korea did not begin with smartphones. According to KOCIS, one documented example goes back to 1768, when scholar Hwang Yun-seok recorded ordering naengmyeon with others after taking a state examination.
The service was obviously very different from modern delivery, but the record shows that having prepared food brought somewhere else has a surprisingly long history in Korea. Later, restaurants in growing cities developed their own delivery systems long before anyone imagined ordering through a phone screen.
By the time I was growing up, food delivery already felt like a normal part of neighborhood life. The technology was simple, but the system worked.
The Era of Phone Numbers, Jjajangmyeon, and Cheolgabang
Chinese restaurants were especially closely associated with delivery. A flyer near the telephone might list jjajangmyeon, jjamppong, fried rice, and tangsuyuk along with one large phone number.
Ordering was straightforward. You called the restaurant and said something like, “This is Building 3, Apartment 502. Two jjajangmyeon and one tangsuyuk, please.” Then you waited for the sound of a motorcycle.
The food often arrived in a cheolgabang, the sturdy metal delivery box that became such a familiar image of Korean delivery culture. It kept bowls upright during the motorcycle ride and made it possible for one delivery worker to carry several dishes at once.
Jjajangmyeon was also strongly associated with moving day. When a family was surrounded by boxes and furniture and no one wanted to cook, ordering Chinese food was an easy solution. Eating jjajangmyeon in the middle of a half-finished move is a memory many Koreans of my generation can recognize.
The bowls themselves were part of the system too. After eating, customers often placed the empty restaurant dishes outside the apartment door, and someone from the restaurant came back later to collect them.
Early Delivery Apps Were Not as Automated as They Looked
When food-delivery apps first appeared, the change looked much bigger from the customer’s side than it sometimes was behind the scenes. Suddenly, restaurant information that once came from paper flyers could be searched on a phone.
Baemin, one of Korea’s best-known delivery platforms, launched in 2010. Woowa Brothers records that mobile payment was added later, in 2012, as ordering gradually moved away from the older pattern of calling a restaurant and paying when the food arrived.
That transition did not happen all at once. For customers, the screen made ordering feel digital before every part of restaurant ordering and payment had fully moved online.
Today, the apps are far more sophisticated, with online payment, delivery tracking, reviews, coupons, and a huge range of restaurants. For visitors, however, domestic apps are not always the easiest option because language, Korean phone numbers, or payment requirements can create problems. I explain some alternatives in my Korea travel apps guide.
Delivery Apps Are Convenient, but I Prefer Pickup
I understand why delivery apps became so popular. They are convenient, especially when the weather is bad, you are tired, or several people want to compare restaurants before deciding what to eat.
I still prefer picking up food myself when the restaurant is nearby. Part of that is simply habit, but I also think about how much of each order goes to the restaurant and how much stays with the platform in the middle.
Delivery platforms charge restaurants in different ways, and those fees have become a public issue in Korea. In 2026, Incheon Metropolitan City expanded public delivery-app programs that advertised brokerage fees of 2 percent or less, compared with private-platform rates that could reach 7.8 percent.
That does not mean I refuse to use delivery apps. If it is raining heavily or I am exhausted after a long day, convenience wins very quickly. But if the restaurant is close enough, I often call ahead, order for pickup, and go get the food myself. For me, it feels like a small way of keeping the transaction simpler while also avoiding a delivery fee.
I Sometimes Miss the Old Chinese Restaurant Bowls
The old delivery system had inconveniences that are easy to forget now. Restaurant bowls had to be collected, customers had to leave them outside, and sometimes a delivery worker might pick up the wrong dishes from another apartment.
There was also the smell. In summer, a bowl with a little jjajang sauce left inside could sit outside an apartment door for a while before collection. I certainly did not enjoy walking past that.
Still, I sometimes miss the reusable dishes when I look at how much packaging can arrive with one modern delivery order. A single meal may come with several plastic containers, lids, sauce cups, bags, and disposable utensils.
The old system required someone to return and collect the bowls, which was less convenient, but the same dishes were washed and used again. Looking back now, that part of the system seems surprisingly sensible.
From the Smell of Jjajangmyeon to the Smell of Fried Chicken
Some memories of delivery culture are connected to smell as much as anything else. Years ago, an apartment hallway might smell faintly of jjajang sauce from empty bowls waiting outside someone’s door.
Today, I notice something different. An elevator door opens, and suddenly the entire space smells like freshly delivered fried chicken. Even if I was not hungry a moment earlier, that smell can make me start thinking about chicken. By the time I reach my floor, I may already be wondering what restaurant delivered it.
Food delivery technology in Korea has become much smarter, but it still has not solved one problem: the smell of someone else’s fried chicken can make you order dinner you had not planned to eat.
About the Author 🇰🇷
I live in South Korea and write about the small details of Korean life and culture that I experience and observe firsthand.
English is my second language, so I sometimes use tools such as Gemini and Google Translate to help with translation and editing. The experiences, observations, opinions, and cultural perspectives in my articles are my own, and I personally review and edit every article before publishing it.
My goal with Korea Core Info is simple: to share everyday Korea from a local perspective and help international readers discover things they might not always find in a typical travel guide.
I hope my stories and guides help you understand Korea a little better — not just as a place to visit, but as a place where people live their everyday lives.