636 recipes. Page 2 of 27
Everyday Korean side dish recipes
Instead of a spatula, the pot itself does the stirring: you shake it so the baby potatoes roll through the reducing soy sauce, which keeps the skins on and the glaze even and dark. Cooled and kept in the fridge, they take the seasoning all the way through and last close to a week.
Napa cabbage salted for just 20 minutes and tossed straight into a gochugaru dressing gives kimchi with no sourness at all: the red pepper heat and the savory anchovy fish sauce come through cleanly. The short salting bends the thick ribs slightly while keeping them much crisper than fermented kimchi. Sesame oil and sesame seeds are added at the very end, so a nutty aroma sits over the chili. Geotjeori, as this fresh style is called in Korea, is served alongside grilled pork belly or doenjang-jjigae (fermented soybean paste stew), and it fills in when the jar of aged kimchi runs empty. It is best right after mixing, and leftovers keep a day or two chilled.
Strips of chicken breast take the place of beef, giving a leaner japchae where the noodles, spinach, carrot, shiitake and onion come through more clearly. Tossing the drained noodles with a little soy sauce and sesame oil right away and spreading them out keeps them from gluing together while everything else cooks.
Korean garlic chives (buchu) are far sharper and more pungent than Western chives, and this side dish keeps them raw to hold on to that bite. Doenjang, a fermented soybean paste, clings to the flat leaves so every mouthful carries its salty depth, while vinegar lightens the finish and chili flakes leave a gentle heat. A 30-second rinse in cold water is enough, and longer soaking dulls the aroma. It is made right before the meal and belongs next to a bowl of rice.
Paper-thin sheets of dried whitebait are dry-toasted until stiff, then coated thinly in gochujang, soy sauce and oligosaccharide syrup. Straight from the pan they look a little soft, but they crisp as they cool; there is no need to keep them on the heat longer.
The woody ends of the asparagus are snapped off by hand rather than cut. They break on their own right where the tough part stops. Chicken tenderloin, sliced thin against the grain, is stir-fried hard and fast in soy sauce and syrup, and the heat goes off while the asparagus is still bright green.
Butterfish has such fine, soft flesh that it falls apart easily when turned. The fillets go skin-side down and are left alone for a good while, then flipped once with a wide spatula. The gochujang paste, loosened with plum syrup, is brushed on very thinly, and a little lemon is squeezed over once the fish is plated.
King oyster and shiitake mushrooms go into the same pan together. The batter is only a thin coat, so once fried, the mushrooms' aroma and chewy grain come through ahead of any taste of flour.
Blanched napa cabbage leaves are rolled around a filling of minced pork and mashed tofu, then steamed. The filling needs two or three minutes of kneading to turn sticky, or the rolls come undone in the pot, and each roll sits seam-side down. Stir a little starch into the leftover cooking liquid and it becomes a sauce to go with them.
Salting decides the texture of this napa cabbage kimchi: under-salted leaves weep liquid and turn mushy during fermentation, while over-salted ones bury the seasoning. Blooming the gochugaru in sweet rice paste before the fish sauce goes in gives a heavy paste that clings to each leaf instead of sliding off. Spread it thinly between the layers, since too much filling makes the kimchi salty and soft. Fresh-tasting at first, it grows deeper and tangier after about a week, and well-soured kimchi is the one to use for kimchi-jjigae or stir-fried kimchi.
Shrimp and squid take over from meat, bringing two textures to the glass noodles: a springy snap from the shrimp and a firmer chew from the squid. Scoring the squid makes it curl in the heat and leaves a pattern on the surface. Patted dry before they meet a very hot pan, the shrimp and squid sear instead of boiling in their own liquid. The moment the shrimp turn pink and the squid curls, they come out of the pan, rejoining the noodles only at the end. Glass noodles soaked thoroughly before boiling take up the seasoning evenly and turn glossy. Korean holiday tables sometimes swap this in for beef japchae.
Rubbing bellflower root with salt, rinsing it, then blanching it for just 3 minutes takes away bitterness while keeping a firm crunch. Julienned Korean pear brings cool sweetness to a sharp, spicy dressing of gochugaru (Korean chili flakes) and vinegar. A teaspoon of fish sauce gives the seasoning depth, and sesame oil goes in last so its aroma stays on top. The pear loses juice and softens the earlier it goes in, so the root is seasoned first and the pear folded in at the very end. It is best eaten while both are still crisp, when bitter root, sweet pear and sharp dressing shift from one to the next in each bite.
Bangpung grows on seaside cliffs and sandy shores and is picked along the coasts of Gangwon-do, Gyeonggi-do and Jeju from March to May. Its aroma is strong and celery-like. The seasoning stops at doenjang, garlic and sesame oil, and the greens get only a minute in salted boiling water.
Thin slices of pork shoulder, green asparagus and red bell pepper share one pan. Peeling the lower part of each spear lets the thick end cook as fast as the tip. The pork comes off the heat when the thickest slice reaches 63°C at the center, then rests for 3 minutes.
Tofu is browned on both sides, then a soy sauce with chopped hot green chili, garlic and a little sugar is spooned over and reduced for a minute or two. The tofu itself stays mild; the salty gloss and the sharp chili bite all come from the sauce.
Garlic chives make up most of this pancake, with just a little carrot and onion. The batter is loose enough to run off a spoon, and instead of one big pancake it is spread thin in several small ones. Small rounds are easier to keep even and to support on the spatula when flipping.
Dotted gizzard shad (baendaengi) has fine, soft bones that soften further in the braise, so the fish is eaten bones and all. It is layered with onion over a bed of radish and braised in a gochujang and soy sauce for close to half an hour.
With no gochugaru at all, this white kimchi is mild, and its clear brine is eaten along with the cabbage. Pear, radish, garlic and ginger carry the flavor instead, and the pear adds sweetness while softening the fermented smell. The filling is tossed lightly with fingertips, because rough handling bruises the radish and pear strips, and everything is drained well to keep the brine from clouding. After half a day at room temperature it ferments slowly in the fridge for 2 to 3 weeks, until the liquid tastes clean, cool and gently sour, a good foil for fatty meat.
The noodles, beef, spinach, carrot and onion are each cooked on their own and only combined at the end. There is a single batch of soy sauce, sugar and sesame oil: a little goes on the beef as a marinade, and whatever is left seasons the noodles.
Thick slices of dotori-muk (a mild, faintly bitter acorn jelly) are folded into lettuce, perilla leaves and cucumber dressed with soy sauce and vinegar. Chilled before slicing, the jelly has a firmer bounce.
The frying is over in seconds. Almost all the time goes into drying the paste-coated seaweed until it is stiff right to the edges. Because glutinous rice paste is spread on, the sheet folded, and the top coated again, it puffs up far thicker than a single sheet in the hot oil, with sesame seeds set into the crisp shell.
With nothing but napa cabbage, doenjang, garlic, perilla oil and sesame seeds, the cabbage's own sweetness comes through. Take it off the heat while the thick ribs still have a little crunch.
Brushed thinly with doenjang and grilled, the cod forms a thin, dark-brown skin of paste on top while the white flesh below stays moist and breaks into thick flakes. Sliced scallion or perilla leaves go alongside.
Plenty of finely chopped garlic chives go into the ground beef, so these bite-sized jeon come out flecked with green. Tofu squeezed dry makes them softer than meat alone, and the soy sauce and sesame oil seasoning still tastes clear once they have cooled.