1880 Korean recipes. Page 58 of 79. Compare ingredients and cooking times. Korean Spicy Pork Rice Cup, Korean Perilla Leaf Tofu Stir-fry.
Rice goes into a single cup and gochujang-glazed pork shoulder is piled over it, the way Korean snack bars (bunsik) serve it. The trick is spreading the rice out first to let the steam escape: spooned into the cup straight from the pot, it turns soggy in its own vapor.
Perilla leaves plus ground perilla seed give soy-glazed tofu a double dose of that nutty, minty perilla smell. The tofu is seared firm beforehand, so the pieces keep their edges.
As the liquid reduces, starch from the rice cakes thickens the sauce into a glossy film on the cakes and fish cake. Stir in only half the seasoning paste at first and add the rest as you taste. Boiled eggs, sundae, or fried snacks alongside make it the full market-stall spread.
Yuja (Korean citron) marmalade, pear juice, lemon juice and honey are mixed into a base first, divided between iced glasses, and topped with soda water at the very end. Yuja marmalades vary in sweetness, so the honey goes in to taste. A sprig of rosemary, slapped once between the palms to wake it up, goes into each glass.
Broad, thin sheets of sirloin cut across the grain give this neobiani a tender bite, and the beef stays in whole slices instead of being minced into patties. Grated onion and sugar in the soy marinade brown fast and scorch before the beef does, so the slices are laid in one layer without the leftover marinade.
A whole chicken simmers with dried astragalus root (hwanggi), jujubes and garlic until the meat falls from the bone, and the clear amber broth smells earthy and herbal. Unlike samgyetang, the bird is not stuffed with sticky rice.
Thin bulgogi-cut beef, oyster mushrooms and shiitake simmer in a clear broth seasoned with soup soy sauce. With no chili in the pot, how well the beef browns decides the flavor, and if it is not patted dry with paper towels first, it steams instead of searing.
Soft, mild yellow croaker with little fishiness needs nothing more than a simple sauce of soy, gochugaru and garlic. Some croaker is sold already salted and needs less soy sauce. Taste before adding the full amount. Sliced radish under the fish keeps it from sticking and turns sweet and tender in the liquid. Korean families often put this on holiday tables, and the saucy braising liquid is meant to be spooned over rice.
Unlike soy-based Korean jangajji, this Western-style pickle of vinegar, sugar, bay leaf and black peppercorns leans sweet and sour. A 10-minute salting draws water from the 1 cm rounds before they meet the brine, keeping the liquid strong, and its sharp first acidity mellows into the sweetness as the jar chills.
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.
Siraegi, dried radish greens soaked back to softness, still carry a tough outer skin on their thick stems, and peeling it off stem by stem is what makes them pleasant to chew. The greens are tossed with doenjang (Korean soybean paste) and perilla oil first, then braised in a splash of water so the paste works its way into the stems. Ground perilla seed added at the very end blends with the remaining liquid and leaves a creamy sheen on the surface.
The pork shoulder marinates in gochujang for 10 minutes, then gets spread across a hot pan and left alone for the first 2 minutes. That pause is when the glaze touching the pan catches and browns at the edges.
Perilla oil and shredded perilla leaves make this smell much stronger than the usual potato stir-fry. The soy sauce is poured into an empty spot in the hot pan and allowed to bubble before it is stirred through, and in that moment it picks up a faintly scorched, toasty smell that carries over to the potatoes.
Tteokbokki and sundae (Korean blood sausage) are the usual pair at a Korean snack shop, and here they share one pan. The rice cakes simmer in gochujang sauce first; the sundae goes in when only a little sauce is left and gets just a few gentle turns. Stir it too long and the casing splits.
The yuja marmalade is loosened in water that has cooled to 85 to 90°C rather than at a rolling boil, which drives off the citron aroma and brings out bitterness. Honey, a little ginger juice and a few drops of lemon go in too, and the cups are warmed with hot water beforehand. The peel sinks to the bottom; stir before drinking.
Dried nogari pollock is toasted in butter over medium-low heat for about three minutes a side and served with a dip of gochujang and mayonnaise sharpened with a little lemon juice and sugar. Pieces too hard to cut get twenty seconds in the microwave first. Because it stiffens again as it cools, it goes out warm.
The potatoes are cut 0.7 cm thick, enough to hold their shape while their edges fray slightly and give the clear pollack broth a little body. Wring the pollack shreds hard before toasting them, or they steam instead of turning nutty.
Thinly sliced beef brisket, not the usual anchovy stock, supplies the savoriness, giving this doenjang jjigae a meaty rather than oceanic lean. Rice-rinse water forms the base and softens the soybean paste, and the edges of the potato break down a little as they cook, thickening the broth on their own.
After an hour and a half of slow braising in soy sauce, pork trotters develop glossy, sticky skin over meat soft enough for a chopstick to slide through. Onion, garlic, ginger and whole peppercorns in the braising liquid carry the soy flavor into the layers between skin and meat. The braising liquid is not wasted: strained and reduced, it becomes the glaze spooned over the slices. Jokbal is eaten wrapped in lettuce with salted shrimp sauce or ssamjang, often late at night with drinks.
The cucumbers are stored whole, split lengthwise into quarters with the red chive filling poking out, and only cut into bite-size pieces at the table. Bite into one and the cucumber juice and the seasoning come out together.
Dried radish greens, called siraegi, bring an earthy, faintly bitter note to an anchovy and kelp broth seasoned with doenjang, Korean fermented soybean paste. Rinsing the precooked greens again and squeezing them hard keeps any stale smell out of the pot. Tough stems are sorted out and simmered 2 to 3 minutes ahead of the rest so they are tender by the time the noodles are done. The paste is pressed free of lumps with a spoon so the broth is not muddy or salty in spots, and since brands differ in saltiness, soup soy sauce makes the final adjustment. Onion and zucchini soften the paste's saltiness as they cook, and perilla seed powder stirred in at the end gives the soup more weight.
Thick slices of rainbow trout sit on a mound of shredded cabbage and lettuce, with roasted soybean powder, sesame oil, minced garlic, and chojang alongside to mix in as you eat. Adding only as much as each bite needs keeps the nutty powder and tangy chili sauce from burying the fish. Only farmed fillets sold for raw eating, with parasite-control information from the seller, belong here; trout meant for cooking is not a stand-in.
Ground pork plus onion, zucchini and cabbage all cut to the same 1 cm dice means every spoonful picks up a bit of everything once the sauce is mixed into the rice. The chunjang (black bean paste) is fried in oil for a minute first to take away its harsh edge, lifted out, and returned only after the vegetables have cooked.
Smoked duck comes already seasoned, so the soy sauce is kept light, and no oil is added because the duck's own fat is enough to cook the onion and sauce. The sauce is gochujang with maesil-cheong (green plum syrup), and two cheongyang chilies go in with the onion.