636 recipes. Page 15 of 27
Everyday Korean side dish recipes
The soy-based sauce takes a tablespoon of ketchup. Half-moons of potato go in first, and once their edges turn translucent the sausage follows, letting its fat soak into the potato. From cutting board to plate it takes around ten minutes, which keeps it manageable on a weekday morning.
Yukjeon gets only about a minute on each side. The beef round is sliced thin, and any longer toughens it quickly. Besides holidays and ancestral rites, it turns up whenever guests are expected, at a housewarming for instance.
Each piece of mackerel gets a 20-second dip in hot water to set the outside white, then goes in a single layer over aged kimchi (mukeunji) lining the pot. By the end, the kimchi has soaked up the fish fat and turned glossy.
Sweet potato stems need their tough outer skin peeled away, a fiddly job, but it is what lets a 2-minute blanch leave them bright and pleasantly crisp. Plunging them into cold water straight from the pot, until no warmth remains, is what holds that color and snap. Mixing the glutinous rice paste into the other seasonings first helps it coat the stems thinly between the fibers. Thin onion and scallion round out the dressing with sweetness and fragrance. The stems snap easily, so the seasoning is worked in with fingertips rather than pressed, and even packing the container takes only a light touch.
The dried shrimp go into a dry pan for about a minute first to drive off leftover moisture. The soy sauce and oligosaccharide syrup glaze gets 30 seconds after it first bubbles, and then the heat goes off; any longer and it sets hard. Cooled and sealed, it keeps for a few days at room temperature.
Flakes of green gamtae are scattered through a glazed stir-fry of tiny anchovies and sliced almonds, giving a familiar banchan an extra sea smell. Gamtae is a seaweed from Korea's southern coast, milder and less bitter than sea lettuce.
Sweet corn kernels pop between strands of zucchini, giving this light pancake bursts of sweetness. The batter should only film the vegetables, with a little pooling at the bottom of the bowl, so each strand keeps its own texture. A final 30 seconds over medium-high heat, after both sides are cooked, crisps the thin edges.
The radish is half-cooked on its own beforehand, so it is seasoned all the way through in the short time the mackerel takes. With just half a tablespoon of gochujang, the soy sauce leads and the heat stays gentle.
Broad, thick gomchwi leaves soak up the soy brine evenly and are seasoned through after just 2 days of chilling. The leaf's bold, wild mountain-herb scent blends with the soy, and vinegar trims the finish so the pickle never feels heavy. Only the thick stems are blanched, for 20 seconds, which softens them while the leaves stay fresh. Excess water is pressed out leaf by leaf, since wringing tears the leaves and drains their scent. Wrap a leaf around a spoonful of rice to eat it like ssam, a Korean lettuce wrap.
Swiss chard leaves are thicker and tougher than spinach, so they don't go limp even after sitting in their dressing for a while. The dressing is doenjang (Korean soybean paste), finished with ground perilla seed and perilla oil for a thick, nutty coating.
Chicken breast, sliced thin across the grain, is seasoned with soy sauce, garlic and ginger and seared quickly. The fussiest part is the knife work: slices of even thickness cook at the same pace.
Gondre, a soft mountain thistle green, soaks up seasoning readily, and steamed with ground perilla seed and perilla oil it turns deeply nutty. It is kept a little moist and often spooned over rice and mixed in.
Gondre, a thistle-family mountain green gathered in spring in Gangwon Province, has a quiet aroma that grows clearer once it is pickled. The tough stems get only 20 seconds of blanching, and the greens are squeezed hard afterward so the brine stays clear. Grain syrup (jocheong) softens the sharp edge of the soy sauce, while brown rice vinegar and kelp stock add tang and savory depth. Half a Cheongyang chili leaves only a light heat at the end. After 2 days in the fridge, spoon it over rice with gochujang and sesame oil, or use it as a bibimbap topping.
Keep the heat at its lowest and keep lifting the seaweed so it never sits still, then turn the heat off when a piece crumbles between your fingertips. Spread it on a wide plate until completely cool before it goes into a sealed container. Laver covered while still warm goes soft again quickly.
Garlic goes into melted butter, then the shrimp, and as soon as they turn pink the soy sauce, sugar and cheongyang chili go in for a thirty-second finish. There is no time to measure anything in those thirty seconds, so the seasoning is set out before the burner goes on.
The konjac is blanched for two minutes first to get rid of its faint limey smell. Shallow crosshatching on both sides lets the soy glaze settle into the grooves, and once it is done it cools completely before serving, which evens out the seasoning.
Bracken fern, usually served as a seasoned namul, goes into a sweet-sour soy brine in this recipe, and its boiled stems stay springy and chewy with a nutty flavor that builds as you chew. Vinegar clears away the fern's earthy smell for a clean finish, while dried chili and garlic add a gentle warmth. Once cooled, the jar rests refrigerated for about 2 days before eating.
Lightly toasted gim is torn into big pieces and tossed with a soy and sesame oil dressing and thinly sliced scallion. Big pieces matter, because some of the edges stay crisp even after the dressing goes on. The seaweed drinks up liquid within minutes, and only what will be eaten right away gets mixed.
Through the doenjang-fried pork comes the faintly earthy smell of Swiss chard. The leaves go limp as they cool, so it is eaten straight from the pan, spooned over rice.
Salted tiny shrimp (saeujeot) season the eggs instead of salt, and anchovy stock gives them savory depth. Cooked slowly in an earthenware pot (ttukbaegi) over low heat with a gentle stir through the middle, it comes out soft and puffed, nothing like the glassy-smooth custard of Japanese chawanmushi.
Salt pulls water out of raw oysters and tightens the flesh. After two to three days of cold curing they turn firm, and the red seasoning liquid soaks right through. The result tastes denser and saltier than a fresh oyster, closer to a seasoning than a side dish. Chili flakes give it the red color and a spicy aroma, and the acidity of plum syrup holds back the fishy smell that rises during curing. A small spoonful goes a long way over warm rice, and a little folded into napa cabbage kimchi filling adds an oyster savoriness that fish sauce alone lacks. The washed oysters are blotted dry before mixing, because leftover water thins the paste and softens the flesh.
Leaves picked from pepper plants after the chili harvest make this namul, and they are at their most tender in August and September. They keep a slightly bitter, green aroma even after blanching, and the chili flakes are kept to an amount whose heat does not bury it. The thin leaves take the seasoning almost at once and go to the table as soon as they are mixed.
Done right, the gochujang sauce does not pool in the pan but clings to every piece of fish cake with a shine. The square fish cakes are dipped briefly in boiling water first to rinse off their surface oil.
Thick rounds of zucchini are hollowed into little cups and filled with beef, tofu and shiitake before steaming. Soft zucchini and dense filling come in the same bite, with thin strips of egg crepe on top.