
Name: Gyopo Brewery
Contact: 1456 Dundas St. W., gyopobrewery.com, @gyopo_brewery_
Neighbourhood: Little Portugal
Owners: Hansang Lee, Juwon Lee, Hyunchan Jo and Dohyon Kim
Chefs: Hansang Lee, Justin Yeung
Accessibility: Not fully accessible
Brothers Hansang and Juwon Lee are Korean expats who have opened two Japanese-inspired spots in Toronto: Gonzo Izakaya and Kensei Bar. With Gyopo Brewery, they’ve finally turned their attention to their own heritage. Named for the term used to describe ethnic Koreans living in the diaspora, the Korean barbecue restaurant and makgeolli brewery focuses on the food the Lee brothers grew up eating.

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“Most people in Toronto think of Korean food as bibimbap, bulgogi and kimchi—but there’s so much more to it,” says Hansang. “After spending years working primarily in Japanese cuisine, we felt like we were starting to lose touch with our roots. We wanted to reconnect with them while also sharing a broader picture of Korean food and culture.”
By early 2025, the timing was right to bring their vision to life.


“We kind of rode the wave of Japanese trends,” says Juwon. “But, with K-pop and Korean beauty blowing up, and films like KPop Demon Hunters, we thought it was the right time to do what we know best.”
The result is Gyopo, a tribute to the street food that shaped the brothers’ upbringing. The menu is built around one guiding principle: each dish incorporates one of the three foundational “jangs” of Korean cuisine. There’s ganjang, a dark soy-based sauce; doenjang, a deeply savoury fermented soybean paste similar to miso; and gochujang, a punchy fermented red chili paste.

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The beverage program is all about makgeolli, a lightly sparkling, slightly sweet fermented rice drink often described as somewhere between beer and sake. To legally sell unpasteurized makgeolli, however, the team had to make it themselves. They brought on second-generation brewer Dohyon Kim as a partner and transformed a former laundromat into a full-scale brewery and restaurant, hoping to build the same kind of entrepreneurial legacy as their grandfather.
“Our grandfather was born in North Korea, fled to Busan during the war and ended up a medalled soldier for the south,” says Juwan. “When the war ended, he was unable to return home. He and our grandmother built a life from the ground up, starting their own fish market and raising a family. My hope is to do something similar here in Canada. Like my grandfather, I’ve settled here for good, and I want to build something that lasts.”


The kitchen is led by Hansang (who attended culinary science high school in Korea and later served in the navy as a commanding officer’s private chef) and Justin Yeung (Auberge du Pommier, Buca), who work together to turn out a menu shaped in equal measure by fire and fermentation.

The dishes burst with bright, complex Korean flavours accented by subtle Toronto influences. Take the grilled cabbage wedges, charred over a wood fire and dressed in a vinaigrette seasoned with nuruk salt, made from the same fermentation starter used in makgeolli. The dish is served with a makgeolli-enriched ssamjang (a blend of doenjang and gochujang) and finished with a scattering of shrimpy breadcrumbs that add crunch and funk.
For one of the richer dishes, bone marrow is brined overnight, roasted, brushed with a soybean-paste-and-honey glaze, then torched until caramelized. Instead of the customary baguette or sourdough found at many Western restaurants, the marrow is paired with miniature seaweed rice cakes and a vibrant perilla-leaf chimichurri, rooting the dish in Korean flavours.





Ten varieties of makgeolli pour from the taps, with some flavours rotating seasonally—think perilla or yuzu—while others remain permanent fixtures. Standouts include the Superdry, a less-sweet expression designed to appeal to North American palates more accustomed to crisp, dry beverages, and the IPA, a blend of hops and rice that lands somewhere between a beer and a traditional makgeolli.




The less-is-more dining room is accented by a beat-up hand-tagged graffiti wall and anchored by a stainless-steel open kitchen. Pots and pans hang overhead, while aromas drift into the dining room from an intentionally reversed hood, designed to evoke the look of Busan’s street-food wagons and the enticing smells the Lees grew up with.








Erin Hershberg is a freelance writer with nearly two decades of experience in the lifestyle sector. She currently lives in downtown Toronto with her husband and two children.