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Korean People Actually Use · № 27

Korean Alcohol Types: What to Order Beyond Soju

5 min read

Soju is only the entry point. Korean drinking runs on a real lineup — fizzy, low-ABV 막걸리; sweet 복분자주 and 매실주; refined 청주 — plus 소맥 (soju mixed with beer), which has no official ratio, only opinions. This guide covers the actual bottles you'll see on a menu, how to order a mix, what pairs with what, and the ABV number labels quietly undersell.

Every travel blog tells you to "try soju" like it's the only decision on the table. It isn't. Walk into any 포차 (pojangmacha) and the fridge is a small museum of fermentation — milky rice wine, syrupy berry liqueur, a plum wine your friend's grandmother definitely made herself at some point. Soju just happens to be the one that travels well and gets marketed hardest.

None of this is exotic once you know the names. It's just a menu you haven't learned to read yet.

The lineup: what's actually in a Korean drinks fridge

Soju gets treated as one flavor. It's closer to a category. Here's what's actually stocked next to it, with the honest tasting notes nobody puts on the bottle.

소주

so-ju

clear grain/rice spirit, ~16.9% ABV

cleaner-tasting than the hangover suggests it should be

과일소주

gwa-il-so-ju

fruit-flavored soju (peach, grapefruit, yogurt), ~12–13%

the gateway bottle — still real alcohol, tastes like it isn't

막걸리

mak-geol-li

milky, fizzy rice wine, ~6–8% ABV

shake the sediment before you pour — underrated, not a beginner joke

청주

cheong-ju

clear filtered rice wine, ~13–16%

약주 is its rougher cousin; this is the order-somewhere-nicer option

복분자주

bok-bun-ja-ju

Korean black raspberry wine, deep purple and sweet, ~15%

sold half as a drink, half as a health tonic

매실주

mae-sil-ju

green plum wine, sweet-sour, ~13–14%

grandma's liquor cabinet energy, and it's usually good

The fridge, not just the shelf soju sits on.

Makgeolli is the one worth defending. It gets filed under "old-fashioned farmers' drink" and served in a bowl like a novelty, but a good 생막걸리 (unpasteurized, fresh) is tangy, barely sweet, and lower-proof than most beer — closer to a natural wine cooler than the syrupy stuff tourists get handed at festivals.

소맥: the soju-beer math nobody agrees on

소맥 is 소주 + 맥주 — soju mixed into beer. It's the default drink of every 회식 (work dinner) after round one, and asking a Korean for the "correct" ratio is how you start a genuinely heated debate at the table.

Ratio (soju : beer)What you get
1 : 9Beer with a rumor of soju in it
3 : 7The most commonly cited starting point — smooth, dangerously easy to keep drinking
5 : 5Where casual drinking ends and 회식 folklore begins
  • 소맥타워 — stack empty shot glasses in a pint glass, pour the soju-beer mix down the side so it cascades and fills each one on the way down. A party trick, a bar bet, and the reason someone's sleeve is always wet.
  • 말아 주세요 ("mix one for me") — the phrase for handing the job to whoever's pouring, usually the most senior person at the table or whoever claims the best ratio.
  • Nobody actually measures. The "golden ratio" talk is real, the precision is theater.

What goes with what: Korea's food-drink pairing rules

These aren't loose suggestions — they're closer to law. 치맥 (fried chicken + beer) is its own institution and gets its own deep dive. 삼겹살 + 소주 (grilled pork belly + soju) is the default of every 고깃집. And then there's the one that sounds like a joke until you've lived through a Korean rainy season: 파전 + 막걸리, pan-fried scallion pancake with rice wine, ordered the moment rain starts. The folk logic is that sizzling pajeon batter sounds like rainfall — whether that's the real reason or just a story everyone's agreed to believe, the craving is real and it hits every single time it rains.

Sion

야, 밖에 비 온다

ya, ba-kke bi on-da

Hey, it's raining outside

그럼 답은 하나지, 파전에 막걸리 가자

geu-reom da-beun ha-na-ji, pa-jeon-e mak-geol-li ga-ja

Then there's only one answer — let's go get pajeon and makgeolli

Sion

역시 너밖에 없다 ㅋㅋ 나와

yeok-si neo-ba-kke eop-da kk na-wa

Knew I could count on you lol, come out

삼겹살은 다음에, 오늘은 비 오는 날이니까

sam-gyeop-sa-reun da-eum-e, o-neu-reun bi o-neun na-ri-ni-kka

Samgyeopsal next time — today's a rain day

The weather picked the order before either of them said a word.

Reading the menu without guessing

Korean drink menus assume you already know the system. Two words carry most of the weight, plus a few you'll hear shouted across a table.

WordMeansWhat to know
병 (byeong)bottleSoju and beer are almost always priced and ordered by the bottle, not the glass
잔 (jan)glass / cupRice wines like 막걸리 and 청주 are sometimes sold by the glass, or by the bottle to split
세트 (se-teu)setA bundled bottle + 안주 (drinking snack) combo — usually the better deal on the menu
원샷 (won-syat)one shot / bottoms upNot a price word — a demand. You'll hear it shouted at the first round of any table

Frequently asked questions

What's the alcohol percentage in soju?

Mainstream mass-market soju sits around 16.9% ABV today, down from the 25%+ bottles of decades past — softened with sweeteners to taste smoother. Flavored soju (과일소주) runs lower, around 12–13%, but it's still real liquor, not a cooler.

Is makgeolli stronger than beer?

Usually, yes, if only slightly. Makgeolli runs about 6–8% ABV against most Korean beer's 4.5–5%. It reads as lighter because it's fizzy, milky, and often slightly sweet, which disguises the strength — it's the drink people most reliably underestimate.

What does 소맥 mean?

소맥 is short for 소주 (soju) + 맥주 (beer) — soju mixed into beer, Korea's default drinking-dinner cocktail. There's no fixed ratio; 3:7 (soju to beer) is the most commonly cited starting point, but every table argues its own version.

What's the difference between 청주 and 약주?

Both are refined, filtered rice wines, clearer and higher-ABV (13–16%) than cloudy makgeolli. 청주 is the more polished, closer-to-sake version; 약주 is its earthier, more traditional cousin. Menus often use the terms loosely, so don't expect strict consistency.

Why do Koreans drink makgeolli when it rains?

It's paired with 파전 (scallion pancake), and the folk explanation is that sizzling batter in the pan sounds like rain. True origin or not, the pairing is a genuine cultural reflex — mention rain to a Korean friend and 파전에 막걸리 is a near-automatic reply.