Two soups carry this small Koornang Road room, and both begin in a pair of 240-litre cast-iron cauldrons shipped from South Korea, hard to source, harder to move and, the kitchen argues, the reason the broth tastes the way it should. Gomtang is beef and water simmered for hours and finished with ginger and ginseng; seolleongtang, drawn from bones over two days, runs deeper but stays clean, the sort of milky, unclouded stock that rewards long, patient cooking. Slices of beef arrive melting, and the seasoning is left to you, with salt, spring onion and rice on the table to build the bowl to taste. It is comfort food made with unusual rigour, and made without MSG. The husband-and-wife team behind it come to Korean home cooking from an unexpected direction, one half of the partnership having put in time on the line at Nobu before turning to the food of home, and that discipline shows in the clarity of the broth and the restraint of the fit-out. Carnegie's Korean strip has gained a specialist rather than a generalist: a counter devoted almost entirely to getting two humble, slow-built soups exactly right.