A Family Restaurant in Portland
At Peter Cho and Sun Young Park’s Han Oak, the dining room and patio are literal extensions of their home, complete with children and tricycles.
When StarChefs first (and finally) arrived at the doors of Han Oak—after getting directions from the cashier at Providore Fine Foods, more directions from a man in a food truck, barging into The Pie Spot under construction, and walking confidently but mistakenly into a public restroom—a canine barked, a child cried, and we almost immediately walked away. But after a quick shout through a mail slot, Sun Young Park opened the doors with a baby on her hip and dog at her ankles. Welcome to Han Oak.
“This is unique even for Portland. My chef friends and other people, like from New York, they say, ‘What the fuck?! How is this possible?’ It’s Portland,” says Chef Peter Cho, co-owner of Han Oak with his wife, Park.
“There’s zero separation here,” says Park regarding work life and personal life. “This is better than never seeing Peter.” Cho and Park left New York after a good long run. In 2005, he started as a line cook at the Spotted Pig, opened The Breslin as chef de cuisine, eventually taking over as executive chef, and ended his tenure as director of culinary operations for April Bloomfield Restaurant Group. Even when the couple lived in a tiny apartment just a block away from The Breslin, the short commute didn’t make their lives any less chaotic. “I thought you were supposed to work 90 hours a week nonstop,” says Cho. “I just couldn’t leave the house and work 12 hours and come back anymore.”
Cho wrapped his work for Bloomfield in 2014, and he and Park moved to Portland to be close to family (Cho is from Eugene) and raise a family of their own. Park found and envisioned the space that would become their restaurant and home. The previous owner had built his home in an area zoned for business, so in terms of permitting and all that fun stuff, they were good to go. “The idea has always been that this is our home. You’re not coming to a traditional restaurant. We’re serving in a way that is as professional as possible. And I like the feeling of discovery guests have when they find Han Oak, when they open the doors to the courtyard.
The courtyard is an extension of the dining room with lawn chairs that sink into the ground after a rain, card tables, scattered children’s toys, a toddler on a trike, heaters, potted plants, and ivy on the walls. A garage door opens to an interior with communal tables, a bar, and a kitchen. The other half of the indoor space is where Cho and Park live with their two children—bedrooms and a bathroom they share with guests. In the winter, part of the outdoor space is tented and movie s are shown. “We’re just trying to make dumplings and raise a family by prioritizing our family,” says Park.
It’s not that the Han Oak model is possible only in Portland; although the zoning laws and space constraints, safe to say, are more of an impediment in larger, older cities to the East. It’s that Portland is most likely the place where Han Oak could even be dreamed up to begin with, let alone successful and supported by its adventurous, open-minded dining public
One unexpected downside to the family’s zero-separation model came to light after GQ named Han Oak one of 2017’s “Best New Restaurants.” They received much more attention, and critiques literally hit home. “Yelp,” Park laughs. “I feel like bad reviews are more personal and weird because this is our home. This is where my children live.” After spending a decade in New York City, Cho and Park are tough cookies, though. And it turns out, combining the stresses of family life with running a business actually lowered anxieties overall. A server with the couple’s youngest in one of her arms floats across the dining room, pouring water, engaging guests, and attending to the baby—both smiling and congenial. They even joke that she can’t do the job without the kid in tow.
While prioritizing family, Cho and Park have created a closer than usual work family, fusing the two. “They’re fucked, the young staff, for the rest of their careers with this situation,” says Cho. “It will be a different experience for them going to a stricter restaurant. It might be hard for some of them.” Cho and Park have had no problem attracting, assembling, and retaining a talented team. Bartender Michelle Ruocco came from Tusk to join the family at Han Oak, and cook Andrew Mace also doubles as Han Oak’s sommelier, weaving between colorful, woven nylon lawn chairs to pour Oregon’s Troon Vineyard’s Riesling, excellent with Korean banchan on a sunny day in the courtyard.
Han Oak has universal appeal. Open for dinner Friday through Monday, guests are young and old and from all walks of life—flip-flopped toes may get grass-stained and high heels may momentarily get sucked into the dirt. “I didn’t use to tell people we lived here because I thought it would make them uncomfortable,” says Park. But it doesn’t. Guests playfully interact with the kids, or they don’t, instead sitting back, sipping a cocktail, and enjoying the scene.
“This industry is so weird and challenging and things move so fast. We’ve done incredibly well taking it day by day. I don’t know what the long-term goal is. I don’t think I’m like other chefs or restaurant owners. I don’t want 10 more restaurants. I don’t want what April [Bloomfield] has. It’s incredibly hard to manage,” says Cho. “Everything has been pretty amazing, living as a family and still working. We thought about moving to a bigger place, but the idea of having to leave the house to go to work? Never again.”
