Korean Oyster & Crown Daisy Stew
A handful of crown daisy goes into the broth once the oysters and tofu are cooked, and the heat goes off as soon as it starts to wilt. The seasoning is soup soy sauce, which keeps the broth from turning dark.
689 recipes. Page 15 of 29
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A handful of crown daisy goes into the broth once the oysters and tofu are cooked, and the heat goes off as soon as it starts to wilt. The seasoning is soup soy sauce, which keeps the broth from turning dark.
The eggplant goes into the simmering soy sauce cut side down and is left alone for the first two minutes, long enough for the spongy flesh to drink in the sauce.
Simmering kimchi dumplings in anchovy-kelp stock lets the kimchi and pork filling season the broth with little help from anything else. Once the dumplings float they are cooked; boiling longer splits the wrappers. A thin swirl of beaten egg softens the soup, and the somen sits in the bowl with broth poured over rather than being cooked in the pot. It makes a quick, warming bowl for a cold day.
Bean sprouts simmer uncovered in anchovy stock for just 5 to 6 minutes, long enough to drive off their raw, grassy smell but short enough to keep them crunchy. This is the Jeonju style of kongnamul gukbap, a sprout soup poured over rice. An egg is slipped in whole rather than beaten, and it is ready when the white has set around a still-soft yolk. Seaweed flakes and a pinch of chili flakes go on top, and in Korea it is a common hangover meal.
Blanched beef intestines (gopchang) go into a dry pan first and give up their own fat, and that fat, not cooking oil, is what the gochujang sauce and vegetables are fried in. The chewy gopchang carries a strong hit of chili from both gochujang and chili flakes.
Dak hanmari means one whole chicken, and it arrives that way: uncut, simmered with potatoes, still in its pot, to be snipped apart with scissors at the table. Once the chicken is gone, knife-cut noodles go into the broth the potatoes have turned cloudy, and that is the end of the meal.
Clam juice forms the base, with gochugaru and gochujang turning the pot deep red and spicy. Thick slices of tofu and zucchini soak up the seafood broth all the way through. Served straight from the pot, it stays bubbling until the last spoonful.
Soft, collapsing eggplant with springy shrimp in between. Oyster sauce goes in with the soy sauce, which makes it more savory than a plain eggplant braise, and with only a pinch of chili flakes it tastes salty and a little sweet rather than spicy.
Thin-sliced pork belly fried until golden renders the fat that everything else cooks in. Onion, scallion and kimchi go into that fat, and the kimchi keeps frying until its juice has nearly gone, concentrating flavor and keeping the noodles from turning soggy. Older, more fermented kimchi gives a deeper sour note to the finished udon.
The konjac rice goes into a dry pan with no oil at all. Once the steam dies down and the grains roll around on their own, it comes out, then returns later to a pan of chicken breast, carrot and scrambled egg to be seasoned with oyster sauce and soy sauce. Dried out this way, the konjac rice has a firm, springy chew.
Bracken fern is first coated in perilla oil and then simmered briefly in soy-seasoned water, so it ends up tender and seasoned all the way through. That second stage is closer to braising than frying, and stopping while a little liquid remains keeps the ferns moist. Use bracken that has already been soaked and boiled; dried or raw fern should not go straight into this pan. Splitting the thick stems by hand evens out the seasoning.
Bite-size chicken thigh gets a one-minute blanch in boiling water before the soup proper begins, and the broth stays clear despite the meat. The radish is sliced thin and flat, turning translucent in ten minutes, and the seasoning is soup soy sauce and salt, with no chili.
With Spam and Vienna sausages piled in by the handful, the salty, meaty side of budae jjigae leads. Well-aged kimchi cuts through the processed meat with its sourness, and a block of instant ramen soaks up the seasoned broth as it cooks.
Giving the potatoes a 5-minute head start in plain water lines up their timing with the beltfish, and the starch they release thickens the sauce. Since beltfish breaks apart if handled often, the broth is ladled over rather than the pieces moved, and the reduced sauce is spooned onto rice with the fish.
A sheet of sweet, soy-simmered fried tofu sits on top of the bowl, and every bite squeezes its braising liquid out into the broth. That broth is a clear dashi made from kombu and bonito flakes, pale in color but full in flavor, in the Kansai style associated with Osaka. Reducing the tofu until its simmering liquid is nearly gone puts the sweetness inside the tofu rather than leaving it in the pot. It tastes best once it has soaked in the hot soup for a moment and gone soft. In Osaka this is everyday food, eaten as an early breakfast as readily as at lunch.
Once the salt-blanched tofu is in the doubanjiang sauce, the spatula is put away and only the pan gets shaken, which keeps the cubes square all the way to the rice. A sprinkle of Sichuan pepper at the end pushes it toward a proper mala taste.
Briny fresh oysters go into the pan with minari (Korean water parsley), a strongly grassy herb, and are stir-fried with chili flakes and soup soy sauce for a little heat. The oysters are barely cooked, so they stay plump.
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.
Mussels go in by the potful here, 900 g of them. Once the water with radish and garlic is boiling, the mussels are tipped in, and when they open and the broth turns milky, the chili flakes and soup soy sauce follow. Any that stay shut at the end get thrown out.
Skate flesh is threaded with soft cartilage, which gives it a pleasant chew. It braises in a gochugaru and soy liquid over heat low enough that the surface barely moves, almost steaming.
Maesaengi, a seaweed as fine as hair, and plump fresh oysters give this knife-cut noodle soup a deep taste of the sea. Because the noodles cook first and the seafood is added only at the end, the oysters stay plump and the seaweed keeps its bright green color.
Butterbur leaves are steamed for 4 minutes rather than blanched, which leaves them pliable enough to fold. Their bitterness softens once each bite also holds sesame-oil rice and a salty ssamjang of doenjang and gochujang.
One zucchini and a spoonful of salted shrimp (saeujeot) are about all this side dish needs. The shrimp brings a savory saltiness, so extra salt is rarely needed.
Half a chicken, cut into pieces, simmers until perilla seed powder loosened in water goes in where samgyetang would use glutinous rice and ginseng, giving a nutty, thick chicken soup for far less work.