Although you will never stumble on it by accident, Young's Korean Restaurant has been serving a steady stream of customers who have found their way to the nondescript building in an industrial park off Mushroom Boulevard in Henrietta for almost three years. And word has gotten out that there's something special going on there. In keeping with the exterior, the interior is sparse and a bit eclectic, but very comfortable. Around the edges of the dining room, family photographs, a massive flat-screen television, a stereo with gigantic speakers, and a couple of couches suggest that the owners of Young's spend almost every waking hour watching over their business.

The husband and wife team who run the restaurant are also its only staff. He cooks and she manages the front of the house, greeting guests, waiting tables, and cashing out checks, all without ever seeming rushed or harried. I got tired just watching her work. You would expect that service here would be brusque and erratic, but the exact opposite is true. If you find yourself in need of motherly, attentive service that takes care of your every need, this is the place to go. Recently, after a downpour, I saw a table full of young men and women with bath towels that they certainly had not brought with them draped over their shoulders. We expressed an interest in Korean wines, including the wickedly potent soju, and our hostess arranged a miniature tasting for us. Come in once and you have made a new friend; come in twice and you are part of the family.

The food is as memorable as the service. How so many complicated dishes make it out of Young's one-man kitchen so quickly and efficiently is a mystery that I long to investigate, but there's no disputing that the food is served the minute it's ready. Many of the dishes come on red-hot sizzle platters or in stone bowls still hissing and crackling furiously when they arrive at your table. The dining room is always full of the aroma of seared meat and spices, making it difficult to concentrate on Young's extensive menu. I've been tempted to sit down at someone else's table and dig in. I'm sure they'd understand.

Even before you order, your table will be covered with an array of little dishes called banchan: kimchi, a fiery pickled cabbage; spicy pickled cucumbers with a cool aftertaste that is delightfully confusing to the palate; tiny sweet black beans; bright green seaweed salad with sesame seeds; summer squash dressed with sesame oil; cool, icy white shreds of daikon (a mild, white radish); and a dish of deep red chili paste with garlic are just a few of the dishes that come before and with your meal.

All of these options are what makes Korean food so spectacular. Entrees tend to be relatively simple - meat or seafood along with vegetables, or soups and stews with good but relatively neutral flavors. Each diner decides what flavors he or she wants to add by picking and choosing among the condiments and side dishes on the table before them. Want some more fire? Heap on the chili paste and kimchi. Need to cool that down? Daikon, cucumber, and bean sprouts are there for you. Korean is the perfect cuisine for couples and families that can never agree about how spicy they like their food. It's also great when you decide you want to change the entire flavor profile of your dinner mid-meal.

That said, there are a host of dishes that don't need any additions to make them perfect. Take haemul-pajun, a crispy pancake full of shrimp and chunks of calamari along with shredded scallions ($13.95). Sizzling on the cast-iron pan in which it cooks, the exterior is golden brown and crispy, the interior almost creamy and starkly white with splashes of green. The combination of flavors and textures is nothing short of amazing, especially with a little dab of hot sauce and a quick dip in the soy-based dumpling sauce with which it is served.

Even if you have never had Korean food, you've probably heard of bulgogi, slices of marinated beef and onions served on a red-hot platter ($12.95). Young's makes a very good example of the dish, but the less-known kalbi ($14.95) is even better. Kalbi is made with beef short-ribs that have already been roasted, melting all that lovely fat and bringing every last bit of flavor out of the meat while infusing it with the herbs and spices in the braising liquid. When tossed onto a hot pan, the meat juices caramelize, creating an intensely rich glaze. Scoop up a couple chunks of beef in a lettuce leaf with the condiments of your choice (I like daikon and spicy cucumber) and you'll marvel at how much taste can be packed into such a tiny package.

If you have a child you can probably complete the following rhyme (borrowed from Linda Sue Park's book "Bee Bim Bop"): "Hurry, family, hurry/ Gotta hop, hop, hop/ Dinner's on the table/ And it's...." Bi bim bap is emblematic of everything that is right about Korean food: inexpensive, kid friendly, infinitely customizable, and really fun to prepare tableside. There are several versions of this dish, but I prefer dol sot bi bim bap, which is finished and served in a hot stone pot ($9.95). The hot pot is heaped with rice, shredded beef, gosari namul (a dried and shredded version of the fiddlehead ferns you see in the market every spring), a little kimchi, and other vegetables, and topped with a raw egg. At the table, you add a little of this or a little of that, and then the fun starts: you mix it like crazy, stirring like mad until all of the ingredients are scrambled together, the egg is cooked, and the angry sizzling subsides somewhat. It's almost as much fun to make as it is to eat. The kimchi and the gosari namul add just a bit of vinegar, bitterness, and heat, saving the dish from blandness. Even more kimchi, or in my 4-year-old's case, another couple slices of tofu, make it just right for everyone.

Young's Korean Restaurant

120 Mushroom Blvd., 427-7650

Mon, Wed & Thu 11 a.m.-9:30 p.m.; Fri-Sat 11 a.m.-10 p.m.; Sun 11:30 a.m.-9 p.m.