RESTAURANT REVIEW : Korean Barbecue Palace Is Manna From Rosemead

“It tastes like fish,” the woman at the next table said tersely to her dining companion.

“Be serious,” he said in obvious exasperation. “Chicken. It tastes exactly like chicken.”

The conversation heated up. At first I hesitated, but finally I just had to know. “Pardon me,” I said, standing to peer over the etched-glass partition separating our booths, “um, just what is that you’re arguing about?”

“No. 60,” she said, with an embarrassed smile.

“Try it--it’s really quite good,” he added, “and you can have the deciding vote.”

With an offer like that, who could resist? I ordered No. 60 as well as a dish of spicy cold noodles and a large Sapporo beer.

It’s not unusual to quibble over Korean food. Alternately salty or bland, sweet or sour, hot or bitter--and frequently all at the same time--the unusual tastes can provoke widely varied reactions.

Manna Korean BBQ, a pleasant outpost in a mini-mall at the southeastern tip of Rosemead, can serve as a good introduction to this “exotic” cuisine. Perhaps the best way is to take a group of friends and plunge right in. (If your group is large enough, you can reserve one of four rooms with low Japanese tables, tatami mats and shoji screens for privacy--leave your shoes outside. If not, you’ll be seated in a red-leather booth with a hwaro , or barbecue grill, on the table.)

This is a barbecue palace, so start with the grilled combination appetizer: beef, oysters, green onions, carrot, zucchini and shrimp in egg batter. Twice when I’ve ordered it, the chef threw in some unidentified pieces of whitefish as well. It comes, as do most dishes, with small plates of cold spicy noodles, cold bland noodles, spicy cucumber, sweet marinated onions and carrots, sweet and spicy kim chee , cold spicy tofu and pickles. Radishes, cucumbers and bean sprouts also appear in various configurations.

The grilled shrimp are delicate, slightly oily--and delicious. The oysters are mashed into a cutlet and are more like a Maryland crab cake, chewy, slightly undercooked and addictive.

Next up, fun food: the combination barbecue platter. After bringing over a heaping plate of raw beef, shrimp, pork, squid and chicken, the waitress dumps a sample on the grill--and leaves you to fend for yourself. You cook it, you decide when it’s ready, and when and what to add to the fire. It comes with all the side dishes listed above (as well as the occasional odd lot from the kitchen such as cold, sweetly marinated sweet potato slices).

The BBQ platter is, quite simply, a blast. Slop it on, burn it, turn it, fight for the biggest or best piece--eating Korean barbecue is a sloppy, enjoyable communal experience. The dishes are distinctive; each has been marinated in its own sauce, each has its own flavor. Soy sauce is usually the base; garlic is very discernible in most of the meat sauces, as is a concentrated type of sesame oil on others. Red chili peppers, mustard and vinegar find their way into many dishes as well. Kochujang , a type of chile paste, is often used on vegetables.

Get an order of heumit gui to add to the mix, just to get the deliciously salty, reduced vinegar-and-soy sauce that comes with it. The large pieces of sliced beef tongue are tender and a treat--and nothing like the pickled tongue of Jewish delicatessens or roast lengua of Cuban and Mexican fare.

Moving on from the barbecue dishes, opt for the gal bi chim , stewed beef ribs with sweet potatoes and onions. Brought to your table in a burning-hot metal pot, the meat is almost falling off the bones. Chopsticks are all you need.

There are thick mixed seafood casseroles, hearty soups and a few noodle dishes as well. I was unlucky with the fish dishes I tried; yeon ou gui turned out to be incredibly overcooked salmon.

All dinners include a fairly bland clear miso soup with kelp and a rice bowl. Leave room for your favorite dessert . . . at another restaurant later. They don’t have any here.

There is wine of unknown origin (“It’s just red and white,” as one waitress said), and better stuff can be found in high school chemistry labs. The Korean Ob beer is pretty good; better still, go with the oversized Sapporo bottles. Korean food will leave you thirsty.

A note on service: Most of the waitresses are attentive and friendly, but there is at least one who will snap your head off if you don’t order as soon as you sit down. Tread lightly.

And what about good old No. 60? Well, I thought it tasted like rabbit. But then again, it was the first time I’ve ever had cow’s foot jupsi-- steamed and served on the bone. And he was right about one thing: It is really quite good.

Manna Korean BBQ Restaurant, 2101 N. San Gabriel Blvd., Rosemead; (818) 307-5671. Lunch 11 a.m.-3 p.m. Monday-Friday, dinner 4:30-10 p.m. Monday-Friday; lunch and dinner 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Saturday-Sunday. Parking in lot. Major credit cards accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $20-$40.