Will you have the chicken or the chicken?

There’s no quibbling about what to order at the L.A. Chicken Center. This new Koreatown restaurant serves nothing but chicken. The limited menu -- just 10 or 11 dishes -- re-creates a style of casual dining common in Korea but new to Los Angeles diners.

While its name may have the ring of an American fast-food joint, this is a restaurant ruled by Korean traditions. Shiny silver chopsticks and long-handled spoons are stored in wooden boxes on each table, complementing the rustic, dark brown Korean stoneware. The menu, written in Korean, relies on pictures to bridge the language barrier.

A description of one of the country’s most famous dishes, samgyetang, a soup that contains chicken (or more specifically a game hen) stuffed with glutinous rice and ginseng, is posted in Hangul script in front of the service area.

The restaurant opened in September on West 8th Street at the corner of South Kingsley Drive. The main dining room is dark and simply styled. A brighter side dining area illuminated by large windows facing 8th Street is decorated by owner Don Kim’s framed collection of antique Korean locks.

Most times, I have eaten here with Korean friends, but the first time I went to the restaurant I was alone. I ordered the samgyetang, which, because of the ginseng, is reputed to be very good for one’s health. It’s priced right in the middle for this menu at $10.99 a serving.

The small, whole bird arrived in a bowl of unseasoned broth set in a brass holder decorated with the words “nutritious samgyetang” in Chinese characters, a nod to Korea’s past. The Korean language was written exclusively in the Chinese writing system until the Korean alphabet was devised in the mid-15th century.

In the broth were ginseng (the restaurant uses 6-year-old American ginseng), a jujube (also known as red date), chestnuts, ginkgo and a garlic clove. The dipping sauce on the side tasted like American horseradish-laced cocktail sauce, only it was made with wasabi. The other option is to dip the chicken in a salt and pepper mixture, provided in a small jar.

Although it seems odd for a restaurant to serve only one type of food, the menu is flexible enough that two people can share a soup and then a main dish without feeling overdosed by the same flavors. The variety of seasonings keeps the dishes from being repetitious.

The restaurant offers two golden, crisp-skinned whole chickens, one plain and one with the fancy glutinous rice stuffing. These come with a salad of shredded cabbage with thousand island dressing.

The simplest dish is rice porridge, riddled with bits of carrot, green onion, mushroom, celery and black sesame seeds. Soft and soothing, it needs nothing more than a dash of the pepper-salt mixture.

The most impressive dish is jangdoritang, a stunning concoction of chicken, chunky carrots and potato in a sauce with subtle fruit undertones. The fruit is citron (yuja), not the candied green peel used in western baking but the fresh citron fruit. The citrus flavor was so appealing that after lunch I walked to the Korean supermarket down the street to buy a jar of yuja preserves. The same dish can be ordered with a spicy red sauce instead of the mild soy sauce and yuja mixture.

Like jangdoritang, jeongoel is meant to be shared. The large bowl of soup bubbles on a hot plate brought to the table. Along with pieces of chicken, it contains enoki mushrooms, green onion, garlic and potato cut so thin the slices are translucent. When you’ve eaten most of this, you make a second soup by stirring in soft noodles, green onion tops and zucchini. A red pepper dip on the side adds some zip, but it’s not too spicy.

There’s also a spicy chicken soup that contains bean sprouts, scrambled egg and slim branches of dried taro. If you like Korean-style barbecued pork, the restaurant makes a similar dish with chicken leg meat, slathered in sauce based on Korean red pepper paste (gochujang). Side dishes include crisp, sweet and sour radish cubes -- certainly as appealing as American pickled watermelon.

Many Asian restaurants offer a plate of orange wedges as dessert, but the Chicken Center’s more upscale concept is sorbet in a wedge of citrus peel. It’s a nice touch, especially after the spicy dishes.

L.A. Chicken Center is Kim’s third L.A. restaurant after opening two separate tonkatsu (Japanese-style restaurants serving cutlets of meat, chicken or fish) on Wilshire Boulevard that are now closed. This time, says Kim, 36, who immigrated to Los Angeles in 1986, he hopes he’s created a place that will offer something different in Koreatown.

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L.A. Chicken Center

Location: 3400 W. 8th St., Los Angeles. (213) 380-0256.

Price: Chicken dishes, $6.99-$17.99.

Best dishes: Jangdoritang, samgyetang, rice-stuffed whole chicken, gochujang gui chicken.

Details: Open 11 a.m. to midnight Monday through Saturday, Sunday 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Beer and wine. Valet parking in lot next door. Most major credit cards.