1880 Korean recipes. Page 31 of 79. Compare ingredients and cooking times. Korean Garlic Sesame Broccoli Muchim, Korean Dolsot Bulgogi Bibimbap.
Broccoli stems are not wasted: peeled with a vegetable peeler and sliced 3 mm thick, they are cooked along with the florets. Soup soy sauce with a little lemon juice puts a light acidity under the sharp garlic, while the broccoli's mild bitterness stays in the background.
Rice pressed into a hot stone pot keeps sizzling at the table, turning crisp and toasty at the bottom, which is what sets dolsot bibimbap apart from the regular bowl. Scraping up the crust while mixing is part of the meal.
Balloon flower root has a sharp, bitter edge, so the torn strands are rubbed hard with salt and rinsed twice before they meet the pan. The sauce is gochujang sweetened with oligosaccharide syrup and sharpened with chili flakes, cooked only until it clings to each strand in a thin, glossy layer. Brief cooking keeps a firm bite in the root.
Kelp-steeped water carries the gochujang and chili flakes, and the rice cakes simmer in it long enough to soak up the sauce rather than just wear it. Unlike stir-fried versions, this one should still have plenty of broth in the pot when the heat is turned off.
All the fruit is cut to 1.5 to 2cm so a single spoonful holds crisp apple, crisp pear and green grapes that pop when bitten. The honey is dissolved completely in cold water first, and the sparkling water goes in just before eating. Other seasonal fruit can stand in.
As halved blue crab grills, the innards in the top shell thicken into a rich paste that serves as a dipping sauce for the meat. That is why the crab is split carefully, without letting them run out. Whatever innards and glaze are left, spooned over rice and mixed in, make a meal on their own.
Dallae, wild chives with small white bulbs, are around for only a short stretch of spring. The bulbs, sharper than the leaves, are minced fine, and the chives are added to the doenjang broth just one minute before the heat goes off. A few raw stalks set aside before cooking make a sharp garnish at the table.
A Gangwon province dish: buckwheat batter is cooked crepe-thin, rolled around a stir-fried filling of aged kimchi, tofu and pork, then crisped in the pan a second time. Buckwheat has no gluten, and the batter needs more than 10 minutes' rest before it can be spread thin without tearing. Unrinsed aged kimchi keeps its fermented sourness in the filling; rinsing it makes the filling milder.
Three potatoes, cut big, simmer with pork in a gochujang broth. The starch they release as they cook thickens the broth without any stock or added starch. Stir only now and then, just to keep the bottom from catching; more than that and the potatoes break.
A well-made dubu jorim has three layers in one bite: a dark, slightly chewy glazed surface, a seasoned middle, and a soft white center. That outer layer forms in the frying pan, where the tofu browns on both sides before the sauce is added. Blotting off surface water first keeps the oil from spitting.
Pouring boiling soy brine straight over whole green peppers lightly blanches the skins to a brighter green while the flesh inside stays raw and crisp. Toothpick holes in each pepper let the brine past the thick walls to the seeds. The finished pickle tastes salty, gently sour and still hot, since the capsaicin mellows in the brine but never disappears, and two or three peppers are enough to carry a bowl of plain rice. Cheongyang chilies make a sharper version, and kkwari peppers give a milder, more tender one.
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.
Hot bulgogi on cold greens gives this salad its contrast in temperature. The beef is marinated in soy sauce and pear juice, then seared in a very hot pan until the liquid cooks off and the surface turns glossy and caramelized. Cooking it in batches in a well-heated pan keeps water from pooling, so the meat browns instead of stewing. The fat left in the pan is not wasted; it becomes part of the dressing for the vegetables. Minari, a Korean water parsley with a grassy, celery-like aroma, is cut into 5 cm lengths so the stems stay crisp. Because it wilts fast once dressed, it is mixed in only at the last moment, with a generous shower of sesame seeds.
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.
Slice a roll and a wide band of breaded pork fills the middle, with shredded cabbage and tonkatsu sauce tucked beside it. Let the cutlet cool completely on a rack before rolling, or the breading goes soft.
Tofu is blanched in salted water for 3 minutes and cut into thick slabs, and sour aged kimchi is stir-fried with pork shoulder and onion to go alongside. The blanching firms the tofu's surface so the thick slices are easy to pick up, and a spoonful of the hot kimchi on top seasons the outside. When it is served with soju or makgeolli, the tofu and the stir-fry go on separate plates.
Instead of a wrapper, the filling is rolled into balls and coated in starch, which the steam turns into a thin, translucent, chewy skin. With nothing wrapped around it, the filling has to hold itself together: the tofu is squeezed hard, the soaked glass noodles are shaken dry, and the mixture is kneaded until a pinch of it no longer cracks.
The brown rice goes into a dry pan unwashed, which lets the bran give off a strong toasty aroma as it roasts. About eight minutes over low heat is enough; stop at pale brown, because dark brown brings bitterness.
Cuttlefish is thicker and denser than ordinary squid, so the inside of the body gets a deep crosshatch before it hits the pan, and the garlic butter seeps into those cuts as it cooks. A little chopped cheongyang chili, a hot Korean green pepper, leaves a faint kick at the end of the butter.
Stir perilla seed powder into a clear radish soup and the broth turns milky and thick almost at once, with a nuttiness heavier and earthier than sesame.
With butterbur stem pancakes, preparing the stems takes far longer than frying them. The fibrous skin is peeled off, the stems are blanched, soaked in cold water for an hour and squeezed hard by hand, and only then chopped small and mixed into the batter. They are fried as bite-size rounds, and a slice of red chili set on top just before flipping sticks to the browned face as a garnish.
The broth is reduced until there is just enough to mix into rice or spoon onto a lettuce wrap. With so little liquid, it is hard to fix once it turns salty, which is why only 80 percent of the doenjang goes in at first and the rest is used to adjust at the end. While the pastes fry for 30 seconds, keep the heat low and keep stirring.
The longer the kimchi has sat in the fridge and the sourer it has become, the better it suits this braise. Simmered with soy sauce and gochugaru (Korean chili flakes), its sharp acidity softens, and the tofu, laid in raw without frying, soaks up the red liquid to the middle.
Thick-skinned green chilies hold their crunch through salting and a short ferment, and the heat concentrated around the seeds bursts out when you bite down. Only about half the seeds are shaken out, and the pods are best eaten within 2 to 3 days while still crisp.