A California-based Korean BBQ chain attracting Wall Street and meat lovers is now expanding across the US — see what it's like to dine there

Instead, casual all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue joints like Gen have a grill fixed in the center of the table. Patrons then order cuts of plain or marinated meat to cook themselves.

But that's not stopping Wall Street from betting on Gen: The chain went public in late June, beating expectations and raising $43.2 million in its initial public offering. 

"We're a very profitable company," David Kim, the brand's co-CEO, told Yahoo Finance in July. Before Gen, Kim was the CEO of La Salsa and Baja Fresh Enterprises.

Since that time, the brand has also opened six new restaurants including its first in New York and Florida.

To start, the plan is to expand in states where success has been proven: This year, it's targeting six to seven openings in Florida, Hawaii, Texas, and Washington.

In the second phase, the Korean barbecue chain will explore new markets. The company is now negotiating leases in Colorado, Massachusetts, New Jersey, Oklahoma, Oregon, Utah, and Washington D.C.

I've been dining at Korean barbecue joints like and including Gen since I was a child. So I couldn't resist the opportunity to grab a Thursday lunch at its newest New York City location.

Side note, if you've ever gorged on all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue before, you'll know why a weekday lunch was a bad idea.

My co-diner and I got a table immediately at around 12:30 p.m. But when I’ve dined at night, I’ve seen crowds waiting out the door and hours-long wait times.

There are no large chafers with serving tongs and lines of people breathlessly waiting to pick at the food.

While there are some plant-based options, I'm not sure most vegetarians will love a menu filled with mostly raw beef, pork, chicken, and seafood. 

However, Gen's New York City location does offer some pre-cooked soups and appetizers like katsu (breaded and deep-fried meat) and dwenjang (a fermented soybean-based soup).

At dinner, this price jumps to $34 for 41 options. But if you dine after 10 p.m., be prepared to pay $38.

The company said during its earning call that this quantity and price point could defend the brand from a recession.

Depending on the location, Gen also sells sodas, soju, sake, wine, and beer at an additional cost. I passed — I did have to go back to work after, of course.

The marinades are nothing like the typically heavy and sweet American barbecue sauce. Instead, they taste lighter and more soy-based.

Because of the limited lunch menu, we ordered the first two plus two types of beef belly including one dressed in a honey-mixed marinade.

This included the banchan and a plate of sesame oil, green tea salt, and a light soy-based sauce (pictured above).

Diners can then request refills and additional sides like salad, rice, and rice paper (my favorite).

At other Korean barbecue establishments, the nutty and pungent sesame oil is typically my favorite. But here, it tasted like it had been diluted with a cheaper neutral oil. 

Patrons are then responsible for cooking these at their own grill-lined table, lowering the chain's operating costs while expanding its number of tables.

The service was incredibly fast — maybe the most efficient of any restaurant in the city. They also take on a gentle parent-like role during this heat and meat-filled frenzy, guiding you if you need help cooking or replacing your grill if it gets too charred. 

But here, cooking is most of the fun: It's social, customizable, and a great conversation centerpiece.

"We're educating our guests and landlords on how our business operates, which provides significant upside as Americans across the country are introduced to the Korean barbecue way of dining," he continued.

My plate of brisket (pictured above) was partially frozen and relatively tasteless — hence the salt — while the bulgogi was clumped together and difficult to break apart, resulting in an uneven cooking process.

Fine by me — endless cuts of meat for $28 a person seems like a steal compared to other Manhattan establishments where one burger could run for that same price.

But after a few plates, this could start feeling daunting — cue the meat sweats.

Then eat like a tiny floppy taco.

Rice is an integral component in salty and saucy East Asian meals. Here, the soft rice paper serves as this vessel. The essential kimchi and lettuce then cut the heavy and salted meat with fresh acidic kick.

And sure you'll end up walking out of the restaurant smelling of meat and smoke. And no, these vents won't help much. 

Between ordering and cooking your own meal, mastering your perfect bite, and slinging back some drinks, getting a table at Gen feels more like dining at a friend's apartment than eating at a restaurant.

If there's one thing Americans love, it's meat. And if there's one thing Gen does well, it's meat in massive quantities at price so decent, the quality won't matter.