Moon Jung-hoon
The author is a professor in the Department of Agricultural Economics and Rural Development at Seoul National University and director of its Food Business Lab.
In Korea, the array of beef cuts available in the marketplace far exceeds what one typically finds abroad, and the prices vary just as widely. As this fact circulates online, it has given rise to a common refrain: Koreans are “serious” about their beef. Skeptics, however, offer a different interpretation. The proliferation of cuts, they argue, is little more than a ploy by meat processors or restaurants to invent ever more “premium” portions and charge accordingly.
Saewoosal served at a barbecue restaurant in Gangnam, Seoul. A small, shrimp-shaped section of the sirloin prized for its fine marbling and tenderness, it commands one of the highest prices among Korean beef cuts. [CHUN YOUNG-SUN]
So which is it?
Consider a simple thought experiment. Imagine a butcher or restaurateur decides to promote the shank — a relatively unpopular cut from the hind leg — as a newly discovered delicacy, marking it up from its usual low price and attempting to spark a trend. Would it suddenly command more than sirloin? Hardly. No one would willingly pay more for shank than for sirloin. Consumers already understand that shank is ill-suited to Korea’s grilling culture. Marketing alone cannot overturn deeply embedded preferences.
Shoppers line up to buy samgyeopsal, or pork belly, at an Emart branch in Eunpyeong District, northern Seoul, on March 3, 2025. Supermarkets held discount events for the fatty cut for the day, which is promoted as Samgyeopsal Day in Korea by agricultural associations. [YONHAP]
Now turn to the sirloin itself, one of the cuts most beloved by Korean diners. Within it lie several smaller sections. Among them is
saewoosal — literally “shrimp meat” — a small portion prized for its exceptional tenderness and snowflake-like marbling. Korean consumers favor it in particular.
But saewoosal is not evenly distributed throughout the sirloin. It appears sparingly in the front, clusters in the middle, and disappears altogether toward the rear. The quantity, in other words, depends on where the sirloin is cut.
Consider another experiment. Suppose two customers each purchase sirloin at the same price. One receives a portion rich in saewoosal; the other receives a piece containing little or none. What happens next?
In a market that does not recognize — or does not care about — the distinction, little would follow. But in a market where consumers know that saewoosal offers a distinct texture and flavor, and regard that difference as meaningful, the transaction becomes contentious. Customers would rightly protest: Why, having paid the same price for the same cut, did I receive an inferior portion?
A shopper buys meat at a butcher’s shop in a traditional market in Seoul on Sept. 2, 2025. [NEWS1]
The answer lies in a well-established concept in management theory: the “sophisticated buyer.” In markets populated by such buyers, products tend to fragment into finer categories. Segmentation reduces dissatisfaction and increases overall precision. When saewoosal is separated out and priced according to demand, distortions diminish. Rather than gambling on the chance that a superior portion might arrive, those who value it most can choose to pay more for it. Where sophisticated buyers abound, product assortments expand, segmentation deepens, and markets mature.
Saewoosal is a case driven by preference. But the same logic applies in reverse, to aversion. Take the recent controversy over excessively fatty pork belly. Consumers who pay the same price for
samgyeopsal (pork belly) have complained about receiving cuts dominated by fat. Again, segmentation offers one possible remedy.
The Ministry of Agriculture, Food and Rural Affairs has proposed dividing pork belly into distinct categories. The upper portion, where muscle and fat are more balanced, would be labeled “upper belly” (
wit-samgyeop). The middle section, richer in fat, would be designated “
donchadol.” The lower end, known as
michuri, would become “lower belly” (
araet-samgyeop). If market trends prevail, prices would adjust accordingly: the upper cut rising, the fattier middle declining, the lower portion settling somewhere in between. Should the policy succeed, pork belly, too, would acquire a layered pricing system.
The continued refinement of beef cuts in Korea reflects not manipulation, but the presence of highly discerning consumers. In beef, Korean buyers are unmistakably sophisticated. Similar patterns can be observed in strawberries and tomatoes, where varietal distinctions shape a nuanced marketplace. By contrast, products such as chicken, potatoes, chili peppers and sesame seeds have yet to develop comparably segmented markets.
It is no coincidence that agricultural goods supported by sophisticated domestic markets tend to compete more effectively against imports. Where consumers recognize difference, markets respond. And where markets respond, value is created — not by illusion, but by clarity.
This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a native English-speaking editor. All AI-assisted translations are reviewed and refined by our newsroom.