Korean Fried Chicken
There's fried chicken, and then there's Korean fried chicken. The batter shatters. The sauce clings. The crunch doesn't quit. This is the dish that gave birth to chimaek culture in Seoul, sparked a global obsession, and — if you ask us — represents the absolute peak of what fried chicken can be.
What Is Korean Fried Chicken?
Korean fried chicken — known in Korea as chikin (치킨), a phonetic adaptation of the English word — is not simply chicken that happens to be fried in Korea. It is an entirely different animal. A different philosophy. A different result.
Where British or American fried chicken leans into thick, heavily seasoned batters and deep, doughy coatings, Korean fried chicken is built around restraint and technique. The batter is thin — almost translucent when cooked — and the crunch is structural rather than bulky. When you bite through a piece of properly made Korean fried chicken, you hear it. You feel it. And then the sauce hits.
In South Korea, Korean fried chicken is eaten as a meal, a late-night snack, and a social ritual. It comes in boxes to share. It arrives at your door at midnight. It pairs with cold Korean beer in a tradition so deeply ingrained it has its own name: chimaek (치맥). Korean fried chicken is not just food. It is an event.
The two most iconic styles are huraideu-chicken (후라이드 치킨) — the plain crispy original — and yangnyeom chicken (양념치킨), coated in a sticky, sweet-spicy red sauce that has become the defining flavour of Korean fried chicken worldwide. Beyond these two, an entire spectrum has emerged: soy garlic, honey butter, cheese, sweet chilli, and countless restaurant-specific variations.
At Thunderbird, we work within this tradition. We respect it. And then we bring it to London — with the same obsessive attention to crunch, sauce, and craft that defines the best Korean fried chicken anywhere in the world.
The Double-Fry: Why Korean Fried Chicken Is Different
Ask any serious fried chicken cook what separates Korean fried chicken from everything else, and they will say the same thing: the double-fry. It sounds simple. It is not. Done right, it is the reason Korean fried chicken holds its crunch under a thick glaze. Done wrong, it is the reason most imitations fall flat.
"The first fry is patience. The second fry is commitment. Between them, everything that makes Korean fried chicken great happens."
Two Fries. One Purpose. Zero Compromise.
We start with a high-ratio cornstarch batter. Not the thick wheat-flour coating of American fried chicken — a thin, precise shell that clings to the meat without building up. Cornstarch gelatinises differently from wheat flour under heat, producing a matrix of tiny air pockets rather than a solid dough layer. Those air pockets are your crunch.
First Fry
Lower temperature. Cooks the meat through completely. Sets the batter structure. Draws out surface moisture.
Second Fry
Higher temperature. Drives out residual moisture. Shatters the batter into its final glass-like crunch. This is where the magic happens.
Between the two fries, the chicken rests. This rest is not optional — it allows the internal steam to redistribute, ensuring the second fry is working on an even surface. Rush this step and the crunch suffers. We do not rush this step.
The result is a crust that behaves unlike any other fried chicken coating. It resists the sauce. It does not go soggy. It holds its integrity long enough that by the time you are halfway through your box, the crunch on the first piece is still there. That is not an accident. That is the double-fry working exactly as it should.
Why the batter matters as much as the technique
The cornstarch-to-flour ratio in Korean fried chicken batter is not a fixed rule — it is a decision. Higher cornstarch ratios produce a lighter, crisper, more brittle shell. Lower ratios produce a slightly chewier, more robust coating. At Thunderbird, our batter is calibrated for the sauces we use. A yangnyeom glaze is heavy and sticky — the batter needs to be strong enough to carry it without collapsing.
We also use a dry-brining technique before battering — seasoning the chicken and leaving it uncovered in the fridge overnight. The surface moisture evaporates. The batter adheres better. The crunch goes deeper. It adds time. It adds flavour. We consider it non-negotiable.
The Sauces That Define Korean Fried Chicken
If the double-fry is the technique, the sauce is the soul. Korean fried chicken without its sauce is like a great record without the bass — technically fine, lacking its reason for being. The sauces are built from fermented, layered, complex Korean pantry ingredients that have been refined over decades.
Yangnyeom
양념 — "Seasoned"The classic. Built on gochujang (fermented chilli paste), soy, garlic, rice syrup, and vinegar. Sticky, deeply red, spicy-sweet with a fermented depth that hot sauce simply cannot replicate. This is the sauce that made Korean fried chicken famous.
Spicy · Sweet · IconicSoy Garlic
간장 마늘 — "Soy + Garlic"The crowd-pleaser. Dark, savoury, with a hit of roasted garlic and a sweetness from honey balancing the umami of the soy. Less heat than yangnyeom, deeper flavour than it looks. The one that converts people who claim they do not like Korean food.
Savoury · Umami · Crowd-pleaserHoney Butter
허니버터 — "Sweet & Rich"The modern favourite. Born from the Korean honey butter crisp craze of the 2010s, this style leans into the sweet-salty balance that Korean food culture does better than almost anyone. Indulgent. Moreish. Dangerously easy to finish.
Sweet · Rich · ModernOriginal Crispy
후라이드 — "Plain Fried"The purist's choice. No sauce. No glaze. Just the batter, the fry, and the seasoning. If you want to understand what great Korean fried chicken actually tastes like — the texture, the structure, the craft — this is where you start.
Clean · Crispy · The OriginalA Note on Gochujang
Gochujang (고추장) is a fermented red chilli paste that has been central to Korean cooking for centuries. Made from red chilli peppers, glutinous rice, fermented soybean, and salt, the fermentation process gives it a complexity that no fresh chilli can match. The heat is slow and warm, not sharp and immediate. The sweetness is earthy, not sugary. The depth is umami, not just spice.
When we make our yangnyeom sauce, we are not adding heat to a base sauce. We are building around gochujang. It is the foundation, not a seasoning. Understanding this is understanding why Korean fried chicken tastes the way it does.
The History of Korean Fried Chicken
Korean fried chicken has a surprisingly modern origin story for a dish that feels so culturally essential. Its rise from post-war street food to global phenomenon is a story about economics, creativity, and — eventually — the unstoppable force of Korean popular culture reaching every corner of the world, including London.
The Korean War brings American military influence — and American-style fried chicken — to the peninsula. Early versions were cooked in lard and were expensive luxuries.
South Korea's rapid industrialisation creates a new middle class with disposable income. Cooking oil becomes widely available. The era of everyday Korean fried chicken begins.
The year everything changes. Pelicana Chicken launches yangnyeom chicken — the first glazed in a spicy-sweet sauce. It becomes a sensation overnight.
Chimaek culture explodes. Fried chicken delivery becomes heavily competitive. Chicken and beer becomes the defining social ritual for late-night gatherings.
South Korea co-hosts the FIFA World Cup. Public viewing parties, fuelled by chimaek, are broadcast globally, sparking international interest.
Korean fried chicken is a global category. London's food scene has fully embraced it. The question is no longer whether it belongs, but who does it best.
Korean Fried Chicken vs The Rest
Not all fried chicken is created equal. Understanding what sets Korean fried chicken apart is not about declaring winners — it is about understanding what you are eating and why it tastes the way it does.
| Features | Korean Fried Chicken | American Style | British Style |
|---|---|---|---|
| Batter | Thin cornstarch shell, almost translucent | Thick seasoned flour coating | Light flour or breadcrumb |
| Technique | Double-fried at two temperatures | Single fry or pressure-cooked | Single fry |
| Crunch | Glass-like, structural, long-lasting | Dense and hearty, fades quickly | Lighter, softer |
| Sauce Approach | Glazed after frying — sauce over crust | Dunked or seasoned before frying | Served alongside |
| Heat Profile | Fermented, slow, complex (gochujang) | Sharp, vinegar-forward (cayenne) | Mild, seasoning-led |
Korean Fried Chicken in London
London came to Korean fried chicken later than New York or Los Angeles — but when it arrived, it arrived seriously. The city's appetite for Korean food has grown steadily through the 2010s, driven by the Korean community in New Malden, the spread of Korean restaurants across Central London, and a food-savvy audience that knows what it wants and is not interested in watered-down versions of it.
Today, Londoners eat Korean fried chicken the way Seoulites do — late, in large quantities, with cold drinks, in groups. The chimaek ritual has found a natural home in a city that already understands the importance of sharing food, staying up too late, and arguing about which sauce is best.
Thunderbird's Place in the Story
Thunderbird was built by people who take fried chicken seriously — as a craft, a culture, and a reason to gather. When Korean fried chicken became part of our world, we did not treat it as a trend to capitalise on. We studied it. We trained for it. We went back to the source — the franchise culture of Seoul, the technique logic of yangnyeom chicken's inventors, the flavour depth of gochujang — and built something that honours the tradition while being entirely ours.
Our Korean fried chicken is double-fried, sauce-glazed, and made with the same obsessive attention to crunch that defines every piece of chicken we serve. Available across our London locations, available to order, and available to argue about. We like that kind of argument.
What to look for in great Korean fried chicken
Whether you are eating at Thunderbird or anywhere else, here is how to tell good Korean fried chicken from great Korean fried chicken: listen for the crunch. A piece of properly made Korean fried chicken should produce an audible crack when you bite into it — not a soft crunch, not a doughy give, but an actual, satisfying shatter. If it does not, the double-fry has been shortcut.
Then look at the sauce. It should coat the chicken — not drown it. The batter beneath should still be visible through the glaze, still structurally present. Great Korean fried chicken is a collaboration between the fry and the sauce. Neither should win entirely.
Korean Fried Chicken — Your Questions Answered
The essentials on styles, spice, and where to find it.
Ready to Taste the Real Thing?
Double-fried. Sauce-glazed. Made properly, in London. Thunderbird's Korean fried chicken is waiting.
