One thing's for sure: You're not here for the ambience. Seoul Hot Pot resides in an avocado-green strip mall on a busy Redmond thoroughfare, and dishwater-peach walls, plastic tables, and cold-shouldered service for non-Koreans do not a welcoming setting make. It is a good thing, then, that Seoul Hot Pot makes such good seafood soon-dubu—the chef here used to rule the kitchen at Hosoonyi up north, and she's brought with her all the greatness of that place. Tofu melts in the mouth and the shrimp are a delight; each bite through the tender shell is an explosion of shrimp meat and broth. O! The broth! In all its zesty marine glory, it is spiritual: evoking grim days by the seashore spent in a watertight, well-lit cabin, rain trickling down the windowsill, the gusting saltwater wind rattling shutters. Close your eyes to get away from the utilitarian space, and you might just be there.