The Perfect Match: Why South Korea Can't Watch Soccer Without Fried Chicken and Beer
In Seoul, soccer and food share the spotlight. When the game is on, tables fill with chimaek—the iconic Korean duo of fried chicken and beer. It’s a pairing so natural that locals barely think twice about it. “Who doesn’t love chicken?” says food writer Irene Yoo, recalling a late night in the city. On match days, chicken shops overflow with fans, and the connection feels automatic.
The term chimaek blends *chi* (chicken) and *maekju* (beer). What started as a casual snack has become a national staple, especially during the K League season, which runs from late February to December. During the 2026 World Cup, expect pitchers and platters to dominate viewing parties across Seoul—in streets, pubs, and living rooms, where the only sounds are cheers, clinking glasses, and the crunch of crispy skin.
Food blogger Rollin Lee remembers the 2002 World Cup, co-hosted by South Korea and Japan. “The whole city would erupt every time a Korean player tried to shoot,” he says. Fried chicken delivery was already popular, but the tournament pushed it into overdrive. “Everybody was home watching, and it grew exponentially.”
Chimaek’s rise is rooted in *anju*, Korea’s tradition of pairing food with alcohol. Fried chicken arrived after World War II, introduced by Black American soldiers. Beer came earlier, in the early 20th century, served in pubs called *hofs*. The two didn’t fully merge until soccer brought them together. The 2002 World Cup was the tipping point. “It was a unique time for Koreans to come together,” Yoo says. “Beer was rising, chicken was rising. It was the perfect match.”
Today, soccer rivals baseball in popularity. Nearly a million fans attended K League matches by May 2026 alone. There are roughly 40,000 chicken restaurants nationwide, and sales spike on game days. During the 2022 World Cup, one franchise saw sales jump 200% on match days.
Most menus offer classic fried or *yangnyeom* style—tossed in sweet-spicy gochujang sauce. Chef Dana Choi, now head chef at London’s Jang restaurant, credits the double-fry method for that signature crunch. “Fry at 160-170 degrees, rest, then fry again at higher heat,” she says. She recommends light local beers like Terra or Kloud. “You get the coolness from the beer, then the flavor from the chicken.”
Public viewing spots along the Han River and at Gwanghwamun Square draw crowds. When Korea plays Czechia on June 11, Yoo suggests heading to Hongdae or Itaewon. “Find the party, and the chimaek will follow.” Delivery drivers can even bring food to your stadium seat.
But chimaek is about more than convenience. “Food plays a very important role in the fan experience,” says Min Joo Kim of the Korea Professional Football League. “Eating together encourages people to stay longer and enjoy the atmosphere.”
For the full experience, share an order 50/50—one friend gets *yangnyeom*, another gets classic. Keep the beer ice cold. And don’t hog the drumsticks. “There are only two per order,” Lee laughs. “Be generous.”
To dive into Seoul’s game-day scene, try Kyochon Chicken for traditional sweet-spicy, or Hyodo Chicken for a fancier take with anchovies and perilla. Don’t skip the *chicken-mu*—pickled radish cubes that cut through the richness. And if you see a spinning beer tower, give it a whirl. It’s designed to reduce carbonation so you can drink more. As Kim puts it, “The communal aspect is what makes Korean football culture unique. Chimaek strengthens that connection.”