189 recipes. Page 8 of 8
Hearty steamed and braised dish recipes
Firm tofu is soaked briefly in salted water, then pan-fried until golden with firm edges that let the slices keep their corners through the spicy braise. Onion and green onion cook on top of the tofu and add sweetness to a sauce of soy sauce, gochugaru and a little sugar. The heat goes off while some sauce still pools at the bottom of the pan, enough to spoon over the tofu and a bowl of rice.
Simmered slowly in soy sauce, whole peeled garlic loses almost all of its raw bite and turns soft and fluffy inside, while corn syrup gives the outside a shiny glaze. High heat for too long only toughens the surface. After the first boil, the pot drops to medium-low and stays uncovered. Once tender, the cloves crush easily, which is why they are turned only once or twice.
Taro stems are long and fibrous, and in this dish they soak up a creamy perilla-seed broth between their strands, bending softly when you bite and releasing that nutty liquid. With only soup soy sauce for seasoning and onion and garlic softened in perilla oil for a gentle sweetness, the dish ends up mild rather than spicy or salty. The sauce is thick enough to coat a spoon and sits well over rice.
Fat and juices from boneless chicken thighs melt into the soy braising liquid, and the burdock root that soaks it up turns sweeter and saltier the longer you chew. A short soak in vinegared water takes the astringency out of the burdock, leaving a nutty root flavor instead of an earthy one. Thin diagonal slices of burdock cook through far faster than thick pieces. Some of the fatty chicken skin is trimmed away and the meat sits briefly in cooking wine and ginger juice, which keeps the sauce clean and free of any gamey smell. Tender thigh meat and chewy, slightly crisp burdock end up glazed together as an easy side for rice.
With no meat at all, this braise relies on texture: thin slices of burdock stay crisp and chewy while konjac, a firm jelly made from konjac yam, stays bouncy. The konjac is blanched and then dry-toasted in an unoiled pan for 1 minute, which takes away its distinctive smell. Burdock absorbs the seasoning faster the thinner it is sliced, and after its vinegar-water soak it is drained well so the braising liquid is not watered down. Holding back the syrup until the soy liquid has reduced by about half lets it add gloss at the end instead of scorching. Sesame oil and seeds stirred in off the heat finish it.
Burdock root cut into thin, even matchsticks is cooked in soy sauce and sugar, then glazed with syrup until shiny, giving a chewy, slightly crunchy bite with a salty-sweet coating. Even cutting matters more than it looks: thinner strands go soft while thicker ones stay stiff. Cooked through, the strips bend rather than snap. It is a staple Korean banchan, close in spirit to Japanese kinpira gobo but sweeter and glossier.
Thin strips of beef and burdock start together in plain water rather than a hot oiled pan. Skimming the foam then keeps the liquid clear, and the beef stays tender. Soy sauce, sugar, cooking wine and garlic go in only after the meat changes color, and the beef's savoriness rounds out the earthy burdock. Leaving a shallow layer of sauce in the pot keeps the strips moist, and once cooled and settled, it packs well for lunch.
Burdock root goes into a beef shank broth that has already simmered with soy and garlic, then steams under the lid until the meat juices reach its center. The aromatic, woody note of burdock cuts through the heavy beef flavor and gives the braise a second layer of flavor. The liquid is reduced to less than half, glossy and spoonable over rice, and finished with sesame oil and toasted seeds.
Blanched outer leaves of napa cabbage are thinner than dried radish greens and, once tossed with doenjang (Korean soybean paste) and covered, soften in under twenty minutes. Trimming off the stringy stems and thick ribs first is what makes the texture even; left in, they stay fibrous among the tender leaves. The seasoned leaves are stir-fried in perilla oil before any water is added, laying a nutty base under the salty bean paste. If the liquid cooks off too quickly under the lid, a splash more water is needed before it turns salty or catches on the bottom. Ground perilla seeds scattered in at the end thicken the liquid so it clings to the greens, giving a mellow, nutty side dish for rice.
Beef trotters carry far more skin and tendon than meat, so they need a 90-minute low simmer before the skin gives under a chopstick. Soy sauce and sugar go in only after that, and as the liquid reduces for another 25 minutes, gelatin from the skin turns it glossy and thick. The long soak, blanch and scrub at the start clear any off smell from the bone crevices before it reaches the sauce.
A whole rockfish cooks in a broth of soy sauce and gochugaru (Korean chili flakes), and each spoonful takes some of the spicy liquid, the white flesh and a piece of radish that has soaked up both.
Shallow cuts in the thickest part of the rockfish let the sauce reach the center and help it cook at the same pace as the thinner flesh. The radish simmers first until its edges turn translucent, because radish that is still hard when the fish is added stays firm while the fish dries out.
Napa cabbage and paper-thin beef brisket (usamgyeop) are stacked in layers, cut to the height of the pot and stood on end, and when the lid comes off the cross-sections line up in rows. The thick white part of the cabbage, rather than the leafy tops, is what lets the stacks hold that shape. Nothing seasons the broth itself, which is just cabbage water and beef juices, and each piece is dipped in a soy, vinegar and garlic sauce at the table. That puts the saltiness in each person's hands rather than in the pot. Packing the bundles tightly, with cabbage scraps in any gaps, stops them toppling as the pot steams.
Unlike stir-fried bulgogi, this version spreads the marinated beef over a bed of cabbage and onion and steams it under a lid, letting the sweetness of the vegetables run into the soy marinade. The cabbage wilts to translucent and takes on as much seasoning as the meat, and enough broth stays in the pot to spoon over rice. One stir with chopsticks partway through breaks up the thin slices, which tend to clump while steaming, and helps them cook evenly.
Pork ribs braise for 40 minutes in a spicy soy, gochujang and chili sauce, and young radish greens (yeolmu) join only in the last few minutes, bringing a fresh, grassy note and crunchy stems to an otherwise heavy braise. Because stems and leaves cook at different speeds, the leaves are added last and just wilt. Before any of that, the ribs soak in cold water and get a quick blanch to rinse away the foam and impurities caught between the bones. Thick-cut onion joins once the meat starts to slide off the bone and softens without falling apart. Green plum syrup softens the chili heat with a little fruity sweetness, and a spoon of perilla oil gives the finish its gloss.
Searing the salmon pieces for about a minute per side firms the surface before the soy sauce goes in, so the soft flesh holds together while the sauce is spooned over it. Ginger powder and cooking wine keep the soy flavor light, and a spoon of rice syrup gives the sauce a thin sheen. Sliced onion under the fish sweetens the sauce and keeps the fillets off the pan.
A spoon of gochujang (Korean chili paste) in the soy sauce turns the lotus root a reddish brown and adds a low heat under the sweet-salty glaze. Pork shoulder, marinated briefly with ginger juice and browned with onion first, leaves its fat in the pot for the lotus root to soak up, which makes this heartier than a plain lotus root side. The crunch of the root against the tender pork is the whole point.
Thin, even slices of lotus root end up with a thin brown soy glaze outside and a crisp, lacy bite inside. Cutting every slice to the same 0.5 cm is what lets them all cook to the same point in the same time. A quick blanch and a rinse in cold water before braising take off the surface starch and astringency, and skipping it leaves that rough edge under the glaze. A tablespoon of vinegar added with the rice syrup near the end keeps the sweetness light despite all that shine. Cooled completely and refrigerated, the slices keep drawing in seasoning and taste more even the next day.
Slices cut a full 1cm thick and cooked covered over low heat give this lotus root dish a chunkier bite than thin soy-glazed versions, with a core that stays crunchy. A soak in vinegared water right after slicing keeps the cut faces from browning. Jocheong, a Korean grain syrup, sweetens the soy instead of sugar and leaves a mellow malty note along with the gloss.
Lotus root keeps a crisp, almost snappy bite even after braising, which sets it apart from soft soy-braised potatoes or burdock. Once the holes in each round have soaked up the soy sauce and the slices turn a translucent brown, a spoonful of syrup over high heat gives them a quick, glossy finish.
Lotus root braised in soy sauce gets a handful of raw peanuts in the same pot, so the crisp slices come with soft, mealy peanuts in between. It is kept in the fridge and eaten cold, and the jocheong (Korean rice syrup) added at the end keeps it glossy even then.