Green Sichuan pepper kaoyu with veggie-mushroom sides in Daejeon

Today I'm introducing a fish restaurant that's super famous in China. Bantiannyao + Kaoyu means "grilled fish"!

Here it is?! This is a Chinese kaoyu restaurant in Daejeon. It's about a 3-minute walk from Galleria Department Store!

⏰ Hours are Monday–Sunday 11:00–22:30

Why a mala lover went looking for kaoyu

I usually enjoy mala tang or xiangguo and other Chinese dishes, so naturally I got curious about kaoyu, a grilled fish dish. I heard there was a Bantiannyao Kaoyu Daejeon branch near Galleria Department Store in Dunsan-dong, Daejeon, so I decided to try it on the weekend. Unlike the soupy dishes I usually eat, I was curious what it would taste like to add spice sauce to grilled fish and simmer it!

The restaurant was on the 2nd floor of the building, but the sign was visible from far away so I could head straight for the stairs without getting lost. I visited around 3:30pm on a weekend, past the lunch peak, so the place wasn't crowded and I could take my time picking a seat.

I slowly read through the menu on the table, trying to decide what to order, and settled on one of the signature dishes, qinghuajiao kaoyu.

The order — Ningbo fish, mixed veggie-mushroom side, self-bar

For the fish, I picked the default Ningbo fish (the Dunsan branch of Kaoyu only serves Ningbo fish), and added a mixed vegetable-mushroom side to go with it generously. We also both decided to use the unlimited-refill self-bar, where ₩2,000 per person gets you continuous rice, drinks, and more.

While our food was being prepared, we headed to the self-bar station set up in the middle of the hall and gathered what we needed. We scooped plenty of warm rice from the rice cooker and got a few different sauces too!

How was the qinghuajiao kaoyu?

About 10 minutes later, the qinghuajiao kaoyu arrived in a large square hot-pot pan set on a burner, piled generously with green Sichuan pepper and chili. A whole Ningbo fish sat inside, its surface oven-browned, with a shallow pool of dedicated broth underneath.

When we turned on the gas and the broth started bubbling, a fragrant yet sharp Sichuan pepper aroma drifted up subtly. (After about 5 minutes on the hourglass timer, a staff member came and deboned the large bones for us — so nice!)

When I gently split the fish flesh with my chopsticks, thick white meat fell apart softly along its grain. I took a big piece, soaked it well in the broth, and tasted it — the skin was savory and the flesh was very moist, with great texture. There was no muddy or fishy freshwater-fish smell at all, and the flesh was tender enough to eat easily with a spoon.

The qinghuajiao's green Sichuan pepper flavor in particular gave a bright yet tingling sensation quite different from a typical red mala sauce. At first it came through fragrantly, then a pleasant tingling numbness gradually crept up the tip of my tongue. The salty, spicy seasoning had soaked all the way into the fish, and it went really well with the white rice from the self-bar.

Adding the veggie-mushroom side made it feel like hot pot

After eating about half the fish, we filled the newly opened space in the pan generously with the mixed vegetable-mushroom side we'd ordered together. Napa cabbage, bok choy, enoki mushrooms, wood ear mushrooms, and fried tofu skin soaked up the rich fish broth and became a whole other treat.

As the vegetables cooked, they released more flavor into the broth, deepening it, and the soft vegetables combined with the chewy mushrooms made it feel like eating hot pot. There were even panda-shaped glass noodles and fish balls, so it never felt like too little. Honestly, the portion was so big three people could probably share one order!

Broth refills and a few drawbacks

As the meal went on, since it's a hot pot dish, there came a point where the broth reduced and the seasoning got a bit strong. At that point, pressing the table bell and telling the staff got fresh clear broth topped straight into the pan, letting us keep the saltiness in check. Once the newly added broth came back to a boil, it returned to the right concentration and we could keep enjoying it comfortably to the end.

I was also satisfied that the fish bones were thick with almost no small bones, so picking out the flesh wasn't a hassle. Plus, the ₩2,000-per-person self-bar let us have plenty of rice and soda without running short, so the value for the overall portion and composition was excellent.

If I had to name a drawback, the qinghuajiao's numbing, tongue-tingling sensation typical of huajiao might feel a bit strong for people sensitive to that. If you're not used to that kind of spice, starting with a milder option like garlic kaoyu, which has less tingle, seemed like a better fit.

✅ Pro tip!

• The saltiness rises as the broth reduces, so I'd recommend turning the burner down partway through and topping up broth as you eat.
• Remove the head and any large inedible bones at the start — that way you eat less of the oil that renders out the longer it simmers!

Final verdict

Overall, this was a worthwhile visit because I got to experience a distinctly different flavor from the usual mala dishes I eat. The generous fish size, tingling broth, and the added sides and rice combined to make for a filling, satisfying meal. If you're near Dunsan-dong in Daejeon and enjoy unique Chinese dishes or that numbing mala-style flavor, I think this is a restaurant worth trying at least once.

This post is a subjective, honest review!