636 recipes. Page 3 of 27
Everyday Korean side dish recipes
Oyster, shiitake and enoki mushrooms differ in thickness and density and cook at different speeds even under the same steam. The firmer shiitake and oyster mushrooms go underneath, the quick-wilting enoki on top, and the dish comes off the heat before the enoki go limp.
Coastal hog fennel keeps its sharp, slightly bitter fragrance even under soy brine, which makes this pickle stand out among milder side dishes. A blanch of exactly 15 seconds sets the aroma, and a cold rinse right after holds the crunch. A longer blanch strips the scent first. Squeeze the herb hard before it goes into the jar, or its water thins the brine. After 2 to 3 days of chilling, the bitterness and the soy seasoning even out, and small portions go alongside rice.
Squid takes the place of beef in this version of japchae, the Korean glass noodle stir-fry, tossed with spinach, carrot, and onion in a soy and sugar sauce. Scoring the inside of the squid in a crosshatch lets the seasoning reach more surface and keeps the cooked pieces tender. The squid gets only about a minute over high heat, since any longer turns it rubbery and leaks water that leaves the noodles soggy. The spinach is blanched separately and squeezed hard for the same reason. Boiled for no more than 6 minutes, the glass noodles stay springy and hold together in the pan.
Firm tofu is seared in a dry pan until golden, then dressed with yuja-cheong, a Korean citron marmalade, mixed with soy sauce, vinegar and olive oil. The citron peel gives a faint bitterness and a fragrance that soy sauce alone never brings to plain tofu. Yuja has been grown on Korea's southern coast, around Goheung and Namhae, since the Joseon era. Tofu that still holds water thins the dressing and mutes that fragrance. Thinly sliced onion and baby greens add crunch on top. Serve it within 2 hours, while the tofu still holds its firm shape.
Eye round is simmered for 20 minutes, and that broth, seasoned with soy sauce, becomes the braising liquid, so the beef flavor stays under the salt. The meat is torn by hand along the grain rather than sliced, then cooked down with peeled quail eggs until the liquid has halved. A night in the fridge evens out the seasoning.
The shrimp are scored along the back, seared for just 30 seconds and set aside on a plate. They go back in only after the cabbage is done, so the shrimp stay springy and the stems keep their crunch. Soy sauce with a little fish sauce does the seasoning.
Only the white part of the green onion is used, since the green tops burn before the inside cooks. Grilled hard, the outside chars deep brown and the inside softens until a chopstick slides in easily, turning sweet. Once plated, the onions get a little sesame oil, sesame seeds and lemon zest.
Burdock root cut into matchsticks is mixed with onion cut the same width, and the batter only coats the outside of the strips. A little tempura flour in the pancake mix crisps the edges almost as if they were deep-fried, while the burdock keeps its crunch.
Pork shoulder has fat running evenly through it, so it braises tender and pulls apart along the grain without drying out. The garlic chives on top are only just wilted and get picked up with each bite of soy-braised pork.
The bitter, herbal aroma of bangpungnamul (coastal hog fennel) cuts through the chili paste and makes this kimchi taste nothing like the napa cabbage kind. That aroma depends on a blanch of only 20 seconds, and any longer leaves the stems limp. Kneading would dull the scent too, and the greens are only lifted and turned through the paste. A spoonful of soup soy sauce adds depth without extra saltiness. After 2 hours at room temperature it goes into the fridge and is served cold from the next day.
Konjac noodles, blanched for 2 minutes to lose their faint odor, keep a bouncy, almost rubbery chew that plays against crisp shreds of cucumber, carrot, and onion. The dressing is gochujang sharpened with vinegar and softened with a little sugar, soy sauce, and garlic, finished with sesame oil and toasted sesame seeds. Served cold after a short rest in the fridge, it works as a banchan or a light side, with the translucent strands stained red by the sauce.
Korean potato salad leaves small lumps in the mash on purpose, putting soft potato and floury bits in the same bite. A little sugar in the mayonnaise gives it the sweet, creamy profile that separates it from Western potato salad, though it shares roots with Japanese potato salad. Diced ham is browned to render some fat, and salted, squeezed cucumber keeps the bowl from turning watery after chilling. An hour in the fridge lets the seasoning settle evenly. It goes on the table as a banchan side dish or between slices of bread as a sandwich filling.
It's fried twice, exactly like Korean sweet-and-sour pork, but with oyster mushrooms torn along the grain in place of the meat. The sweet-sour soy sauce comes on the side, so everyone decides for themselves whether to pour it over or dip.
A splash of cheongju (Korean rice wine) under a lid opens the clams, then butter goes in, and the clam juices and butter run together into a salty sauce in the bottom of the pan. Whatever is left gets mopped up with bread. The clams bring their own salt, so the soy sauce stops at a teaspoon, and any clam that stays shut is thrown out.
The kabocha spends 2 minutes in the microwave before it goes into the pan. That head start lets the center turn tender before the soy and corn syrup glaze has a chance to burn. The skin stays on.
Canned tuna and aged kimchi go in by equal weight with only a small amount of pancake batter, and the filling, not the flour, is what comes through first. The tuna is pressed in a strainer right after the can is opened to get the oil out.
Bugeo is pollack dried through the Gangwon mountain winter, freezing and thawing over and over, which leaves the flesh loose and spongy. Soy and gochujang seasoning works its way into those gaps, and the flavor deepens over the few days it keeps in the fridge. Soaking should stop at 20 minutes, or the flesh goes mushy.
Halved Brussels sprouts hold their structure through salting, and each bite gives a firm crunch and a little sweetness. Score the stem ends no deeper than 5 mm or the leaves fall apart, and give strongly bitter sprouts an extra 5 minutes in the brine.
Each vegetable is cooked on its own and folded in at the end, so the spinach stays green and the carrot stays bright instead of fading into the glass noodles. The beef is marinated in soy and garlic first, and the noodles soak up that seasoning in the pan before the last of the soy sauce adds gloss. Spinach that is not squeezed dry leaks water and thins the dressing.
Jjokpa, a slender Korean green onion, is milder and sweeter than the thick daepa leek and can be dressed raw without much sting. That gentle bite cuts through the fat of grilled pork belly or grilled fish.
Amaranth greens, their tough stem ends snapped off one by one with the fingers, are blanched for under a minute, squeezed hard and dressed with doenjang, soup soy sauce and perilla oil.
Firm bottle gourd is sliced thin, salted briefly, stir-fried, and then finished covered with a splash of water. When it is done, the edges turn translucent and a chopstick slides in easily. Garlic and green onion are the only aromatics, which keeps the gourd's mild flavor up front.
The texture comes down to pounding the peeled deodeok root flat with a mallet or rolling pin. Once the fibers loosen, the gochujang paste seeps into the gaps, and the grilled root chews pleasantly instead of turning stringy. Honey in the paste scorches quickly, and medium heat with a close eye on the color keeps it from burning.
Drained canned tuna and perilla leaves give these fritters more heft than a vegetable jeon but less than a fish one. The egg in the batter binds the tuna and gives a smooth surface, and the fritters hold up well cold in a lunchbox.