1421 recipes. Page 12 of 60
As an Amazon Associate, we may earn from qualifying purchases.
The beef sits in a pear juice and soy marinade for 10 minutes, then shiitake, king oyster mushrooms and onion are tossed into the same bowl before anything hits the heat. With everything going in at once, a small pan is better worked in two batches. Apple juice can stand in for the pear juice if the sugar is cut back a little.
The word gungjung, royal court, points back to the food of the Joseon palace. Soy sauce and sesame oil do the seasoning, so there is no heat, and bulgogi-cut beef and shiitake go in with the rice cakes. The beef is seared only on the outside and set aside, returning to the pan after the rice cakes have softened.
Daechang gets its rich, savory taste from the thick fat lining the inside of the intestine. Over high heat that fat renders out, and the outside browns and crisps. It firms up and toughens as it cools, which is why it is eaten straight from the pan, often with soju or cold beer.
Oyster mushrooms are torn along the grain, shiitake sliced thin and king oyster mushrooms cut on the bias, and each of the three has its own chew in the bowl. The base is an onion stock, yet perilla seed powder and tofu make it filling, and two minutes of rest off the heat lets the thick broth settle.
The whole can of tuna, oil included, is tipped into the pot with water. No stock is made separately, and that oil is what the broth builds on. Some add ramen noodles to stretch it into a full meal.
Butterfish is so tender that it is never turned in the pot; instead the broth is spooned over every two or three minutes to cook the top. The soy broth carries ginger and only a little chili flake; the heat is barely there.
Bok choy makes a lighter, crunchier kimchi than napa cabbage, ready to eat within a day. The salt goes mainly on the thick stems, and 20 minutes is the limit before the stems toughen. The halves drain thoroughly in a sieve after rinsing, because leftover water thins the paste until it slides off the leaves. Blending the salted shrimp and fish sauce into the sweet rice paste first makes the seasoning easy to spread thinly between leaves. Julienned carrot and scallions add color and a varied bite. After 4 hours at room temperature it moves to the fridge.
Poaching chicken breast directly in the anchovy stock gives the clear broth of janchi guksu, Korea's party noodle soup, an extra savory layer. A little sesame oil tossed through the shredded chicken makes the lean breast meat taste moist, while separate yellow and white egg-crepe strips, zucchini, and carrot add color. The recipe scales up easily, making it practical for feeding a crowd.
Chicken thighs marinated in gochujang, chili flakes, and soy sauce are stir-fried with cabbage and onion like dakgalbi, Korea's spicy chicken stir-fry, then simmered in cream into a pink, gently spicy sauce. The cabbage and onion hit the pan before the chicken to draw out their sweetness. Thigh meat is used because it suits the cream sauce. Sauce fills the thick rigatoni tubes and gives each bite both heat and richness. Mozzarella melted in at the end stretches like the cheese on cheese dakgalbi. The final seasoning waits until the sauce is done because gochujang brands differ in saltiness.
Paprika and cumin give the tomato base a smoky, earthy warmth that makes this vegetable side taste heavier than it looks. Instead of dressing raw beans, the Moroccan method blanches green beans and then sautes them in a garlicky tomato sauce until the seasoning coats every pod. The garlic stays on low heat until fragrant but not golden, which gives the sauce a mellow sweetness, and lemon juice goes in off the heat to cut through the oil. The beans should end up tender while still holding their shape.
Cherry tomatoes burst as they cook, and their juice mixes with salty black olives, capers, and thyme into a bright southern French sauce. Skin-on thighs are essential: searing the skin over high heat until deep golden gives both crisp texture and the browned layer in the pan that white wine later dissolves into the sauce. The finished sauce is reduced just enough to coat a spoon thinly and cling to the chicken rather than run off.
Small steamed rice cakes with a shallow dip in the middle, each one topped with a spoonful of chai poh: preserved radish fried with garlic and soy until salty and browned at the edges. The cake itself is just rice flour, water, and salt, so it tastes of almost nothing and stays soft. All the seasoning sits on top, with sambal chili on the side for heat. Teochew hawkers in Singapore and Malaysia sell it for breakfast, often from stalls that make nothing else.
Slightly bitter chwinamul is blanched for 2 minutes and dressed with doenjang, soup soy sauce and sesame oil, then finished with perilla powder and scallion. The doenjang is worked in with spread fingers so it reaches between the leaves, and the greens rest five minutes before serving. In winter, when fresh chwinamul is not around, dried chwinamul soaked until soft can stand in.
The deodeok browns in butter, but half the butter is held back and melted into the soy and rice syrup sauce just before the heat goes off. The root is peeled first, then pounded and torn along its fibers.
Canned saury goes into a soy-seasoned stir-fry of oyster mushrooms and cabbage, and a teaspoon of lemon juice just before the heat goes off takes down the fishy smell. The fish is already cooked, so it waits until the vegetables have dried out again and is folded in gently to keep the pieces large.
After 12 to 15 minutes in the steamer the wrappers go translucent, showing the filling of pork, tofu, glass noodles, and garlic chives. The dip is soy sauce with vinegar and chili flakes. Fold a big batch and freeze some, and a few can go straight from the freezer into the steamer later.
Brushed thinly with doenjang and grilled, the cod forms a thin, dark-brown skin of paste on top while the white flesh below stays moist and breaks into thick flakes. Sliced scallion or perilla leaves go alongside.
Oyster and shiitake mushrooms go straight into boiling water, and after about four minutes the broth turns light brown; soup soy sauce and salt do the seasoning. Cubed tofu is slid in at the edge of the pot and never stirred, which keeps its corners sharp.
A can of tuna and some sour kimchi, no meat to brown, and the stew is ready fast; most of the flavor comes from the kimchi's sourness. Pour in a little of the oil from the can and the broth gets noticeably deeper.
The pork marinates for three hours in white wine, garlic and massa de pimentão, a Portuguese red pepper paste, before it cooks; the clams wait until the pork is tender and stay in only until they open. The potatoes are fried separately and folded in at the end, where the sauce only coats the outside. Chopped pickles, black olives and coriander go on raw when it is plated.
Laid on a spoonful of hot rice, one of these peppers delivers salty, funky soybean paste and lingering heat in a single bite. Pricking each Cheongyang chili all over with a fork lets the doenjang brine reach the inside instead of sitting on the skin.
The knife-cut noodles go straight into the chicken stock instead of a separate pot, and the starch they shed turns the broth slightly thick and silky while the noodles soak up the chicken flavor. That single-pot cooking is what separates kalguksu from a plain chicken noodle soup. Right after the noodles drop in, a stir along the bottom frees any that stick; after that, gentle stirring keeps them from breaking. Thigh meat, rather than breast, stays tender even after the shredded chicken returns for a final simmer. Black pepper is the main seasoning accent, sharpening the savory stock in a bowl built for cold days.
This tomato-free lasagna gets its nutty, toasty depth from ground perilla seeds (deulkkae) stirred into the white sauce, and that flavor pairs with the earthy browned mushrooms. Button and oyster mushrooms are browned in batches so they taste roasted rather than steamed. Mozzarella binds the layers and Parmigiano browns the top, and a short rest after baking lets the slices hold their shape.
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.