689 recipes. Page 5 of 29
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No anchovy or kelp stock here, just the liquor from the clams and the sweetness of napa cabbage, so the soup tastes clean and gentle. That also means any leftover grit has nowhere to hide, which is why the clams need a thorough soak beforehand.
Pork shoulder turns an ordinary kimchi pancake into something more filling. The meat has to be sliced thin and small; larger pieces stay raw in the middle while the outside burns. The kimchi is squeezed only lightly, leaving a little juice behind, and it seasons the pancake well enough that no soy dipping sauce is set out.
In this budae jjigae, a spoonful of baked beans sits in the middle of the pot with the gochujang paste on top. As it boils the beans break down, thickening the broth a little and leaving a faint sweetness. The liquid underneath is anchovy stock, not plain water.
Doenjang and a pinch of instant coffee in the boiling water soften the porky smell without seasoning the meat itself. Five minutes in the broth after the heat goes off keeps the slices moist, and kimchi and fresh wrap leaves supply the seasoning at the table.
Scallions cooked slowly in oil until they shrink, brown and turn crisp leave behind an amber, fragrant oil that becomes the sauce for these noodles. With only soy sauce, sugar and white pepper added, the result rests almost entirely on patience at the stove. Turning up the heat to hurry the scallions burns them black and leaves the oil bitter. The crisp pieces are lifted out and saved as a crunchy topping.
Whole loach, a small freshwater fish, simmer with burdock, tofu and scallion in a soy-based broth until even the bones are soft enough to eat. Burdock shaved thin, like sharpening a pencil, flavors the broth. In eastern Saitama, along the Tone and Ayase rivers, loach were caught in rice paddies from summer into autumn; thick ones were simmered whole like this, and thin ones went into soup.
Eolgali, young napa cabbage cut before the head fills out, has leaves thin enough to need only about a minute in boiling water. It is dressed mildly, with doenjang, garlic, scallion, and sesame oil and no chili, a habit carried over from country tables that turned whatever grew in the garden between kimchi-making seasons into namul.
No cheese on this one. The chicken thigh is stir-fried in gochujang sauce alone, and it lands on the rice along with soft, sweet cabbage.
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.
Chopped kimchi goes into the pork filling, so its sourness and heat cut through the richness of the meat. Browning, steaming and crisping all happen in one pan, and the soy dip gets an extra splash of vinegar.
Pear, onion and garlic are blended smooth as the base of the marinade, and the ribs can sit in it overnight. The leftover marinade has held raw pork, so it gets boiled once in a small pot before being brushed on as the ribs grill. Eat them wrapped in lettuce or with rice.
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.
Wavy ramen strands leave ridges and pockets across the surface of this pancake, and those uneven spots fry up especially crunchy. The noodles are boiled for only two minutes so they stay firm; the heat of the pan finishes them and they keep their spring instead of collapsing into the batter.
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.
Pomfret has thin, tender flesh that slips off the bone easily once the whole steamed fish reaches the table. Ginger and green onion are split into two rounds: the first steams with the fish to cut any fishiness, and the second goes on with the warm soy and rice wine sauce for fresh aroma. That sauce is mild and barely salty, letting the clean taste of the fish lead.
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.
The dish takes its name from the Song dynasty poet Su Dongpo. Thick squares of pork belly are tied with string and braised for a long time in soy sauce, rice wine and sugar until the fat turns translucent, then cut into thick slices and served under a spoonful of the reduced, glossy brown sauce.
Soy sauce does not cook the crab in ganjang gejang, which is why only crab sold for raw consumption belongs in this Korean soy-marinated dish. The brine, simmered with apple, ginger, whole garlic, and scallion, has to be chilled to 4°C or below all the way through before it is poured over the crabs; warm liquid changes the texture of the raw meat.
The water the chicken breast was poached in becomes the broth for this porridge. Before it goes in, the rice is toasted in sesame oil with minced garlic.
The sheet fish cakes (eomuk) start with 20 seconds in boiling water to rinse off their surface oil. Skip it and a stale, oily taste lingers after the stir-fry is done. Once the fish cake joins the onion and carrot, it is all over in about three minutes.
Modeled on convenience-store cup tteokbokki, this one adds mala sauce to the gochujang for a tingle on the tongue. Chili flakes raise the heat, and more mala sauce raises the numbness. Brands of mala sauce vary a lot in saltiness, though, so start with a single tablespoon.
The name dwitgogi (roughly, back meat) is said to come from butchers quietly setting the tastiest cuts aside for themselves. It is a mix of specialty pork cuts, springier and chewier than pork belly. Grilled with salt and pepper, it is dipped Jeju-style into warm meljeot, a salted anchovy sauce.
There is kimchi in this soup but no chili flakes, so the broth stays clear while the sourness of white kimchi and its brine works its way into the clam stock. The clams come out as they open, and the stock is strained through a fine sieve before the kimchi goes in. If the kimchi is salty, the salt is left out.
Little more than blanched soybean sprouts held together by a thin film of batter, this pancake comes out with nutty heads and stems that stay crunchy.