Everything we know about Oyatte, Culinary Monster’s upcoming New York restaurant
In the second season ofCulinary Class Wars—Netflix’s global cooking competition that pits lesser-known chefs (“Black Spoons”) against elite kitchen veterans (“White Spoons”)—one figure captivated audiences not because he fit a tidy underdog story, but because he defied it. Chef Lee Ha-sung, 38, better known on the show as Culinary Monster, parlayed his runner-up finish into a moment: social media buzz, street recognition in New York and now, a singular opportunity to open his first independent restaurant, Oyatte. As Culinary Class Wars topped Netflix’s Global Top 10 (Non-English) charts in early 2026, Lee’s rise became emblematic of how fine dining and television can collide to make a niche figure a global conversation.
Set to open in Spring 2026 in Murray Hill / Midtown East at 125 East 39th Street, Oyatte is shaping up to be less a nostalgia act and more a statement of intent: what happens when a chef schooled in the world’s most rigorous kitchens claims authorship of his own table.
In case you missed it: 9 fascinating facts about ‘Culinary Class Wars’ underdog chef Choi Kang-rok
Who is Culinary Monster?
Before Culinary Class Wars thrust him into the global spotlight, Lee Ha-sung’s résumé already read like a fine-dining passport. He trained at the Culinary Institute of America, one of the world’s most demanding culinary schools, grounding his technique in repetition and discipline rather than theatrics.
His early career encompassed foundational posts in New York’s kitchen hierarchy, including Gramercy Tavern, where rotation through stations sharpens technique, and posturally rigorous fine dining at Geranium in Copenhagen, which held three Michelin stars and numerous placements in global Best Restaurants lists.
He served as chef de cuisine at Atomix in New York, helping the restaurant earn two Michelin stars and global acclaim, then moved on to The French Laundry in Napa Valley as sous chef, embedding himself in the rigorous cadence of a kitchen helmed by Thomas Keller himself.
On Culinary Class Wars, Lee’s presence was jarring at first: a Black Spoon contestant with credentials that rivalled or exceeded many White Spoons. His performances—sharp, decisive, unflinching—were as much style as substance, underpinned by the precision and confidence forged in elite kitchens.
Why Oyatte?
The restaurant’s name, Oyatte, is rooted in Lee’s own heritage. It refers to the Chinese character for his surname (李), which evokes the plum blossom in Korean tradition, once the national flower of the Joseon Dynasty. In interviews, Lee has explained that the name isn’t a bid to brand the restaurant as “Korean cuisine”, but a signal of personal origin and artistic ambition: a chef hoping to bloom in his own idiom.
That duality—heritage without confinement—gestures toward what may be Oyatte’s defining tension: dishes that carry memory without being museum pieces.
Precision meets product
At its core, Oyatte is envisioned as contemporary fine dining anchored in ingredient clarity and seasonality. Lee himself has been clear that he does not want the restaurant pigeonholed as “Korean” or “fusion”. Instead, he frames Oyatte as a synthesis: the discipline of French haute cuisine, the resonance of Nordic sensibility and the cadence of American seasonal cooking, all interpreted through his personal lens.
What unites these influences is a philosophy learned in kitchens that prize restraint and clarity over ostentation: the deep, slow building of umami; the nuanced layering of technique and flavour; a willingness to let a single ingredient be the centrepiece of a tasting moment.
Early indications suggest Oyatte’s menu will draw on vegetables sourced from farms Lee has relationships with in upstate New York, shipping produce to the kitchen with the same regard a winemaker might reserve for grape pedigrees.
Oyatte behind the scenes
As of early 2026, Lee has been in New York daily, personally inspecting site work and the delivery of custom kitchen equipment, workaday details that chefs of his pedigree often delegate.
The hiring process is underway for front-of-house leadership, including maître d’, sommelier and servers, with an intensive team gathering scheduled for February to begin training and preliminary menu development. Sources close to the project suggest Lee wants the service to be as intentional as the cooking—each station a calibrated expression of his vision.
Behind him in spirit, if not in physical presence, is Kim Tae-sung, the Season 1 contestant known as Hidden Genius, whom Lee has cited as an early supporter and sounding board during Oyatte’s gestation.
What to expect on the plate
Lee Ha-sung’s deeply personal final dish referred to bathhouse weekdays with his father
While the full menu remains under wraps, clues emerge from Lee’s moments on Culinary Class Wars and his professional DNA:
Clean, deep umami broths
Throughout the competition, Lee was praised for broths that carried clarity without sacrificing depth—an echo of French stock-making technique married to Korean flavour memory.
Whole-animal practice
In the finale, Lee’s reimagined sundaeguk (blood sausage soup) elevated a childhood comfort dish into fine-dining territory—a signal that Oyatte will embrace nose-to-tail philosophy with refined discipline rather than rustic literalism.
Seasonal rhythms
Drawing on his CIA education and classical training, Lee is likely to structure the menu around hyper-seasonal harvests, where flavour hierarchy emerges naturally rather than through adornment.
Given his resume, expect the plating to reflect architectural restraint—negative space, textural contrast and a precision learned from the likes of Keller and Geranium’s kitchens.
Shedding off the Monster mantle
“Culinary Monster” was never meant as a persona of uncouth intensity. In interviews after the finale, Lee apologised for moments of harsh language or abruptness on the show, acknowledging the pressure he felt during filming and how it intersected with his hopes for Oyatte.
He has described that period as one of professional desperation, a moment where he felt all his prior years of preparation would be vindicated or forgotten. That vulnerability, refracted through competition editing, made his presence on screen polarising: some saw arrogance; others recognised a chef trained to act with certainty at every station.
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