For a long time, the most familiar style of Japanese dining in Hawaii was the single-order teishoku, embracing the complete meal — rice, miso soup, a few side dishes and a protein entree.

That started to change in the early 1990s with the first wave of restaurateurs from Japan specializing in niche items such as sushi and ramen, slowly introducing the diversity of the cuisine so that we now have sites dedicated to tonkatsu, kushiage, yakitori, takoyaki, tsukune and more.

Japan’s Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries began tracking the number of Japan-based restaurants abroad beginning in 2006, when they numbered 24,000. In the most recent data, from October 2017, that number had increased to 117,568, with no sign of slowing down.

WE CAN only recognize the roots of historic movements in hindsight, but the market for Korean cuisine could be on the verge of a similar trajectory. In recent years, we’ve seen the arrival of several pochas and KFC (Korean Fried Chicken) specialists. I can’t say it’s been easy for the pioneers. Many of these bars and restaurants have come and gone.

One of the things Japan-based restaurateurs have going for them is Oahu’s 22 percent ethnically Japanese population and a prevalence of Japanese tourists to help boost their bottom line. According to 2018 U.S. Census data, the Korean population in Hawaii counts for only 3.4 percent of the state’s population, so whether a culinary hallyu (Korean wave) takes off depends on how adventurous other diners are.

MOST OF our experience with Korean food has come via plate-lunch culture — rice, a choice of entree (typically grilled meat) and a sampling of side vegetables and starches filling in for the banchan tradition.

Seoul Tofu House is the latest restaurant to ask us to think beyond that format in favor of the Korean bansang tradition. It’s still a complete meal with rice and banchan (side dishes), but much more elegant in presentation. At Seoul Tofu House, the centerpiece of most meals is soondubu (meaning “pure tofu”) or tofu stew, a comfort food of South Korea, where it’s enjoyed for breakfast, lunch or dinner.

The recipe was created in South Korea by chef Min Kim, whose mother’s soondubu was a favorite of her village in Chodang. Kim was inspired to become a chef by watching her mother cook, and adapted her mom’s seawater recipe for the professional kitchen. She maintained such traditions as cooking each stew in individual stone pots over a flame and starting with a beef bone stock simmered for 24 hours to extract flavor and collagen that gives the resulting soup body and a rich, buttery mouthfeel. The difference between this soondubu and every other in town is noticeable.

The price is right, at $13.99 for a soondubu set, from self-explanatory beef- to kim chee- to seafood-filled stews. I found the pork soondubu a bit scant of meat based on the name, expecting large slabs of meat similar to what arrives with every bowl of ramen. Here, just a few small pieces are integrated into the stew. More satisfying were the seafood version, with shrimp and clams; cod roe stew; and assorted soondubu with meat, vegetables and seafood. And believe it or not, a ham-and-cheese soondubu is localized with Spam and Vienna sausage.

This is not a place for vegans — vegetable soondubu includes clams, and tomato soondubu starts with the same beef stock.

The tomato soup is already delicious, but those who need extra flavor can request a small order of mozzarella ($2) to add to the pot, which creates a creamier consistency and flavor.

After you’ve selected your soup, pick a heat level from regular to hot to “danger.” For most, “regular” delivers flavorful spice without much pain. I love a little heat, but not when it’s so blistering hot that it distracts from enjoyment of the food. I was warned off anything hotter by seeing those who ordered the danger level break out in perspiration. For days afterward, a friend was still apologizing that she had sweat so much that her cosmetics melted away.

If you’re really worried about heat tolerance, a plain soondubu option omits the pepper paste.

EACH STEW is accompanied by a bowl of rice, kim chee and three types of banchan, most recently fishcake, green beans and sweetened kabocha, a package of roasted, seasoned nori, and raw egg for stirring into the bowl.

Those who need something extra to fill their bellies might want to start with crispy pancakes of seafood and green onions ($13.50) or kim chee and pork ($13.50), fried as individual, bite-size fritters.

And meat eaters may gravitate to bansang with entrees of spicy chicken and cheese ($24.50), spicy squid ($26.25), soy-marinated grilled short ribs ($28.99) or spicy pork ($25.95). These dishes are also available a la carte for $4 less.

One of the highlights I haven’t seen on other menus locally is the tteokgalbi, described on the menu as “grilled short rib patties” ($20.25 set/$16.25 a la carte). If you recognize the “tteok” from the Korean stir-fried rice cakes, tteokbokki, yes the name of the patties translates as “rice cake ribs” because the finely minced meat is formed into juicy rice cake-size patties. The restaurant uses grass-fed Kunoa Cattle Co. beef, also known for being raised without antibiotics and added hormones.

I hope this restaurant becomes a success story that signals Hawaii is ready to discover the best Korea has to offer.

Nadine Kam’s restaurant reviews are conducted anonymously and paid for by the Star-Advertiser. Reach her at nkam@staradvertiser.com.