689 recipes. Page 22 of 29
As an Amazon Associate, we may earn from qualifying purchases.
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.
With only 80 ml of water in the pot, the sprouts cook in trapped steam under the chili-soy seasoning rather than being blanched first and dressed afterward. That small amount of liquid is why the sprouts are drained but not shaken bone dry: a little surface water tops up that steaming liquid.
Shredded brisket, fernbrake, and bean sprouts fill a red, chili-oiled broth, and thin somyeon noodles take the place of the usual bowl of rice. The heat comes from gochugaru coated on the vegetables with sesame oil and fried briefly, and chili scorched at that point turns the whole pot bitter.
Osam takes its name from the first syllables of squid (ojingeo) and pork belly (samgyeopsal). The pork belly is cooked first until plenty of fat has rendered, and the squid and gochujang sauce go into that fat, so no extra oil is needed.
Nothing in the bowl looks like a loach. The fish is boiled, blended and pushed through a sieve before going back into its broth, and with siraegi and ground perilla seed the soup turns thick and earthy.
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.
The croaker keeps its white flesh and mild flavor instead of tasting of soy because the soy sauce stays out of the pot until the radish is tender and only then gets stirred into the broth and spooned over the fish. Thick slices of Korean radish line the bottom, shielding the fish from direct heat and sweetening the liquid as they soften. Rice wine and thinly sliced ginger handle any fishiness, which is why the seasoning can stay this light. The green onion cooks for just 1 minute at the end to keep its aroma. Croaker has fine-grained, delicate flesh, and a gentle steam-braise rather than a hard boil keeps the pieces whole for a shared table of four.
There is no coconut milk here. Eggs and evaporated milk make the sauce, and instead of a soupy curry you get soft, moist curds clinging to the crab. The curry note comes from mild curry powder rather than paste, along with nam prik pao and Chinese celery.
Toasting the dried shrimp in sesame oil first drives off their staleness, and their aroma alone is enough to carry the broth without anchovy stock. Season with salt instead of soup soy sauce and the soup stays clearer.
With no chili, the broth stays clear and tastes plainly of sweet radish and beef. Once the radish turns translucent, rice goes straight into the bowl.
Blanched radish greens, the leafy tops of Korean radish, soak up the pear-and-soy braising liquid from the beef and bring an earthy flavor with a slight chew. Short rib meat is soaked in cold water first to draw out blood, which keeps the sauce clean-tasting rather than murky. Pear juice adds a gentle fruit sweetness under the garlic and ginger, and the reduced sauce clings to both meat and greens, ready to spoon over rice.
A generous amount of finely shredded ginger gives mild chicken breast a sharp, warming smell. The cabbage and bell pepper are not cooked for long, so they still crunch.
Blue crab in its spring or autumn season is halved and simmered in a radish broth with a little doenjang and chili flakes. The shells turn red well before the meat is cooked through. Crack the claws with the back of a knife beforehand and the meat comes out easily at the table.
Soybean sprouts give this stew its clean, light broth, and a tablespoon of chili flakes adds the heat. Pork is optional: with it, the broth picks up fat and savory depth; without it, the stew stays lighter and sharper.
Sour, long-fermented kimchi and pork back ribs braise down together in one pot, so the first impression is tangy and savory before it is spicy. The riper the kimchi, the stronger its sourness and savory depth, which makes the state of the kimchi the biggest factor in how the dish turns out.
Garlic cooked in butter, then soy sauce and sugar bubbling down, leave the shrimp with a sweet-salty shine. Shrimp shrink and toughen soon after they are cooked through, and the soy and sugar are mixed ahead to go in the moment the shrimp are done.
A whole chicken takes the place of beef bones in this gomtang, and 20 g of ginger leaves a peppery edge on the clear, pale-yellow broth. Push the ginger much past that and it starts to taste bitter.
Wheat dough is torn by hand into thin pieces and dropped into the clam broth. Each piece comes out a slightly different thickness, and each one chews a little differently. The clams go in once the dough floats up translucent, the lid goes on, and the stew goes to the table right away, since sujebi swells quickly.
Unlike the spicy, raw-dressed dried radish salad, this version braises rehydrated radish strips with thin slices of lean beef eye of round in a soy broth until chewy and lightly sweet. Drying concentrates the radish's sugar, and the strips drink up the braising liquid as they simmer. Soaking them in cold water for at least 20 minutes, until they spring back, sets up the right final texture.
No doenjang goes into this siraegi (dried radish greens). They are tossed with soup soy sauce and garlic, fried in perilla oil and finished with ground perilla seed loosened in water, which tastes lighter and nuttier than a doenjang-braised siraegi.
Soybeans soaked for a full night and day, simmered until their raw beany smell is gone and ground into a smooth paste called go, give this Fukui miso soup its body and a gentle nuttiness, and a soft foam rises as it heats. In Fukui it is still served as temple food at Hoonko, the major Jodo Shinshu observance around the anniversary of Shinran's death, known locally as Honko-san.
Brisket simmered in plain water, with the foam skimmed off, makes a clear broth that a spoonful of gochugaru turns spicy. The 250 g of mung bean sprouts go in at the very end for two minutes at most, which keeps them crisp against the soft beef. It is ladled hot over rice.
Holding the whole octopus by the head and dipping it into boiling water two or three times makes the legs curl inward into a neat shape for slicing and serving. Before that, coarse salt is rubbed firmly between the suckers to strip the slime; without that step an off smell lingers after cooking. It cooks for only about 15 minutes over a bed of radish and green onion, then rests under the lid, which keeps it chewy without turning tough. The water is kept at a quiet simmer the whole time, since a rolling, splashing boil makes octopus tougher. Instead of a spicy dipping sauce, slices are dipped in sesame oil mixed with salt, letting the octopus taste of the sea, and the plate works just as well with drinks.
Ketchup sets a sweet base and half a spoon of gochujang adds only a mild heat, giving these cocktail sausages a sticky glaze that settles into shallow scores and sits well in a lunchbox. Once the ketchup and syrup start to thicken they stick fast to the pan, so nothing stays still after the sauce is poured in.