1880 Korean recipes. Page 7 of 79. Compare ingredients and cooking times. Korean Andong Braised Chicken, Korean Soy Pickled Beet (Vinegar Soy Brine Jangajji).
The dish is done when the glass noodles have drunk up the soy braising liquid and turned glossy brown; they go in only for the last five minutes, since added early they soak up all the sauce and go limp. Its current form is said to have settled in Andong's old market in the 1980s, though chicken braised in soy sauce in Gyeongsang Province goes back much further.
A day after the beet and onion go into the soy and vinegar brine, the liquid itself has turned deep purple and the salty and sour notes have settled in. It is a fridge pickle, so use a clean utensil each time you take some out.
Gochujang heat, the sweetness of maesil plum syrup, and a sharp hit of vinegar land together in each mouthful of these cold somyeon noodles. A thorough cold-water rinse strips off surface starch, so the thin wheat noodles turn bouncy and the sauce coats them evenly instead of clumping. Torn lettuce and cucumber strips bring crunch, and the little moisture they release loosens the thick sauce just enough.
The soy sauce and pear marinade of galbijjim, Korea's braised short ribs, goes into a thick ragu made from short rib meat cut into small dice instead of being braised on the bone. Between the layers, béchamel and mozzarella soften the sweet and salty soy flavor, and the Parmesan on top browns in the oven. It rests for 10 minutes before cutting, because slices taken straight from the oven slump before the layers set.
Soft lentils soak right up a thick, savory dressing of doenjang (Korean fermented soybean paste), Dijon mustard, and cider vinegar. Broccolini, halved lengthwise and charred at the edges, and coarsely chopped walnuts give the bowl its crunch. It holds well cold or at room temperature, so it is easy to prepare ahead.
The croffle, a café favorite, is made here from store-bought frozen croissant dough and finished savory with garlic butter and grated Parmesan. Left shut in the waffle iron too long, the pastry dries out hard, which is why the first one gets cut open to check for raw dough before the rest go in.
Roasting broccoli coated in doenjang and gochujang at 200°C browns the floret edges and deepens the savory paste. A one-minute blanch leaves the stems bright green and still firm going into the oven, where the high heat finishes them.
Bitterness in chestnut rice usually comes from bits of inner skin left on. The chestnuts soak in cold water to draw out astringency, get peeled down to the flesh, and the large ones are halved or quartered before being spread in one layer over the rice. A little salt is the only seasoning, with black sesame scattered on top.
Dried bottle gourd strips are thin slices of the gourd's inner flesh, and they need more than 30 minutes of soaking to turn chewy again. They cook in perilla oil, and the ground perilla seed goes in while a little liquid remains, soaking it up and clinging to the strips as a thick coating. It is a mild namul to set beside more strongly seasoned banchan.
Inside the pork casing, soaked glutinous rice swells as it steams and binds the glass noodles and pork blood into a dense, sticky filling. That swelling is why the casing is filled only about 80% of the way and why any puffed spots get a quick needle prick during steaming.
Puffed rice bound with jocheong (Korean rice syrup) feels hard when you press it, then breaks cleanly when you bite. The syrup is not very sweet, so the toasty rice, nuts and sesame come through. Humidity softens it quickly; keep it in an airtight container.
Bokbunja, Korean black raspberries, are layered with sugar in a jar and covered with 35% infusing soju for about a month in a cool place. Regular low-proof soju is no substitute, and a strip of lemon peel and a cinnamon stick go in with the fruit. Once strained, the wine keeps aging in a fresh bottle, where its acidity softens. The water in the ingredient list never goes into the jar; it is an optional amount for diluting a glass at serving.
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.
In this clam soup the radish is eaten as eagerly as the clams. It simmers for about seven minutes before the white clams and a spoonful of cheongju (clear rice wine) go in, then softens as it soaks up their broth. Salt is added only in pinches, after tasting.
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.
A clear mushroom stew seasoned with kelp water and soup soy sauce, made without a drop of oil. To keep the broth from clouding, the foam is skimmed and, once the tofu is in, the pot is gently shaken instead of stirred. The mushrooms are rinsed quickly rather than soaked, since soaking washes out their scent.
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.
Beets cut into 2 cm cubes get dressed like kkakdugi, the cubed radish kimchi, but this batch is eaten fresh rather than fermented. Whatever is not served right away goes into a lidded container and straight into the fridge at 4°C or below rather than sitting out at room temperature. A kimchi meant for long fermentation needs its own tested ratios and instructions, not this one. The salted cubes are drained well first, because any water they carry thins the paste.
The gochujang sauce grips tough, springy naengmyeon noodles rather than sliding off, and every strand carries the spicy-sour coating. Mixing the sauce 10 minutes ahead gives the sugar time to dissolve and the flavors time to even out. The noodles cook in well under a minute over high heat, and lifting them out the moment the strands separate keeps them from going soft. Rubbing them under cold water to strip the starch, then squeezing them hard, stops leftover water from thinning the sauce. Cucumber and Korean pear, crisped in ice water, cool the heat with crunch and light fruitiness, and half a boiled egg softens the chili's edge.
Crumbled gamtae, a fine Korean seaweed, gives a butter and lemon sauce the smell of the sea. Scallops are seared hard one side at a time and set aside, then white wine lifts the browned bits they leave in the pan into the sauce. The scallops never simmer; they go back on top of the noodles at the end.
Charred until deep brown, Korean daepa (a thick green onion similar to a leek) loses its sharp bite and turns soft and sweet inside. With tender potatoes and a dressing of doenjang, lemon juice, and honey, it makes a salty, earthy potato salad with no mayonnaise in sight.
The round shape and sweet red bean filling come from Gyeongju-ppang, a Korean bean pastry, but the wrapper here is a soft milk-and-butter yeast dough. It does not try to copy Hwangnam-ppang with its thin skin and stamped top; expect a bread bun instead. Ready-made red bean paste skips the bean cooking, though the filled buns still need a second rise, which puts the whole schedule at about three hours. In a cool kitchen the dough rises more slowly, and its volume is a better guide than the clock.
Peeled and sliced thin, the broccoli stem cooks in the same 1 minute 30 seconds as the florets and goes into the bowl with them, leaving nothing from the head to waste. Pull the broccoli while it is still bright and firm, because overcooked florets break apart as soon as the dressing is folded in.
Ground perilla seed goes in with the Parmesan at the end of this mushroom risotto, and the first spoonful smells nutty in a way anyone who knows Korean perilla noodle soup will recognize. There's no cream; the starch stirred out of the rice is what makes it thick.