282 recipes. Page 10 of 12
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Garlic scapes stay tough if they go into the pan raw. So they spend just 30 seconds in boiling water, get rinsed in cold water right away, and then cook with the gochujang sauce in a pan for about 3 minutes. Done, they bend easily but still snap when you bite.
Jjageuli is not supposed to leave much broth behind. Gochujang seasoning is fried in rendered pork fat, thick-cut potatoes go in, and as they simmer they slump and crumble until only a shallow, thick sauce is left in the pot. It sits closer to a rice topping than a soup.
Spanish mackerel has white, tender flesh that flakes apart easily once cooked, so this braise never flips the fish. Instead, the pot gets a gentle shake and the sauce is spooned over the top. A gapless bed of radish, thicker slices in the middle, keeps the fish off the pot. The red sauce of soy, gochujang and gochugaru seasons both the mild flesh and the radish, which turns translucent as it cooks.
Sour aged kimchi and canned tuna share a gochujang, vinegar, and syrup dressing in this quick pantry noodle bowl. The kimchi is shaken free of its seasoning and chopped fine so the sourness spreads through the noodles instead of landing in one bite. Both the tuna and the noodles are drained well, since leftover can liquid or rinse water loosens the sauce. Half the scallions go into the mix and the rest on top for fresh color and bite.
Two cheongyang chilies and a tablespoon of chili flakes make this properly hot. The octopus is tipped over the rice with all the loose sauce left in the pan, and bean sprouts can go down on the rice first for a crunchy layer underneath.
Well-fermented sour kimchi goes in, and its sourness does the job of a sauce. When the kimchi is salty, the rest of the marinade goes in a little at a time rather than all at once, and wrapping bites in lettuce takes the edge off the heat.
Ice-cold shredded cabbage, lettuce, and cucumber sit under hot, crisp frozen dumplings, mixing two temperatures and two kinds of crunch in every forkful. The dressing of gochujang, vinegar, sugar, and sesame oil tastes sweet, sour, and spicy all at once. The dumplings are store-bought frozen ones, and they go on just before eating so they stay crisp.
The octopus is already cooked, so all the pan has to do is reduce the gochujang sauce onto it. Over high heat, it is done the moment the sauce darkens at the edges and turns glossy.
Kodari, pollock dried only partway, has a dense, chewy flesh that keeps its grain through a long simmer. It can still break if flipped, so it sits on the bed of radish and gets the broth spooned over it two or three times instead. Rice-rinse water forms the broth and tones down any fishy smell.
Dried radish greens (siraegi) stay chewy through the braise and soak up the gochujang and soy sauce, so here they are as good with rice as the hairtail itself. The greens are tossed with a little doenjang beforehand, which leaves a nutty, savory note under the braise.
Thin slices of boiled octopus sit on chilled buckwheat noodles dressed in chogochujang, gochujang loosened with vinegar and sugar into a sweet, sour, spicy sauce. Already cooked, the octopus mainly needs patting dry so the sauce clings instead of sliding off. Shredded cabbage and perilla leaves under the noodles add crunch and an herbal note, and only half the sauce is tossed in at first so the rest can season the bowl just before eating.
A shallow crosshatch on the inside of the squid makes each piece curl into a thick, bouncy roll the moment it hits the heat, and the opened cuts give the gochujang sauce more surface to grab. Onion and cabbage go into the pan first to cook off their water so the sauce stays glossy.
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.
Boneless thigh pieces get only a potato starch coat and two trips through the oil, the second one hotter. The sweet and spicy gochujang and corn syrup glaze goes on in a pan already off the heat, with about twenty seconds of tossing. Even cold, the pieces still crunch when you bite in.
Coated thinly in gochujang and syrup, small octopus needs only a minute and a half on a grill rack or pan, two minutes at most. Snipped into bites with scissors, it goes into perilla or lettuce wraps or over a bowl of rice.
Gochujang alone seasons this squid stew, giving the red broth a sweet, rounded heat, and one whole squid goes in as rings and tentacles. Scoring the inside of the body makes the rings curl as they cook and pulls the sauce in between the layers. The squid joins only after the zucchini and tofu have had about five minutes, and two or three minutes is all it takes.
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.
Myeongi jangajji (wild garlic leaves pickled in soy) is sliced into the bowl, and its pickling liquid loosens the gochujang into a sauce for chilled udon. The garlicky smell of the leaves comes through the heat, and shredded cucumber and tuna go on top.
Fernbrake, bellflower root and chwi-namul (aster greens) each get their own treatment: the fernbrake turns soft in sesame oil, the bellflower root is salted to draw out bitterness yet stays crisp, and the aster is blanched just until bright green. Cooked separately, they still taste and bite differently after mixing, and the gochujang sauce is served alongside to add a little at a time.
Kongbul, short for kongnamul bulgogi, piles soybean sprouts onto spicy gochujang pork so every bite of meat comes with a crunch. The sprouts only get about a minute over high heat, so the pork sauce has to be reduced to a thick glaze before they go in, or the water they release leaves everything soupy. It is served spooned over rice.
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.
Mackerel or beltfish both work for this spicy fish stew. The radish gets a five-minute head start, then the fish pieces are laid in a single layer and simmered with the lid slightly open to let the fishy steam escape.
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.
Rabokki adds instant ramen noodles to tteokbokki, the chewy rice cakes simmered in a sweet, spicy gochujang sauce. The rice cakes simmer alone for 5 minutes to soften, and the ramen and fish cakes follow for just 3, because the noodles soak up sauce fast; by the time they are cooked, the sauce has reduced to a thick glaze. Plenty of water at the start allows for that absorption. Half a packet of the ramen seasoning deepens the savoriness, and a layer of cheese turns it into cheese rabokki. Boiled eggs and green onion finish the pot, which is best eaten right away before the noodles swell.