168 recipes. Page 3 of 7
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Honey in the batter keeps these small Japanese pancakes soft and pliable for hours after they cool, and their mild sweetness leaves the red bean paste in charge. Only one side touches the pan, so each round has an evenly browned face and a smooth, pale back.
Sparkling water poured down the side of the glass settles over the deep purple black raspberry base in two layers. Frozen berries are tucked in among the ice cubes. Lime juice and honey are fully mixed into the concentrate before any soda goes in, or the sweetness all collects at the bottom.
Pork jowl goes into the pan with no oil at all. Its own fat runs out within moments, and the doenjang marinade sizzles in it and browns onto the meat. The doenjang starts at a single tablespoon and goes up only after tasting.
Ham, turkey, cheddar, hard-boiled eggs, and cherry tomatoes go onto a bed of romaine in neat, separate rows, enough protein to make the chef salad an American main course rather than a side. The honey mustard dressing waits on the side, so the lettuce stays crisp to the last bite.
Honey goes in twice, once in the dough and once in the boiling water for the dip, which keeps the sweetness faint and gives the crust its shine. Whole wheat flour, one part to seven of bread flour, adds a slight nutty edge.
Juice from strawberries, blueberries, and banana runs between the small curds of cottage cheese, and each spoonful carries a mild saltiness and fruit sweetness together. There is no dressing, only a thin line of honey, and without the honey all the sweetness comes from the fruit. Pat the rinsed blueberries dry before they go on, or the cheese turns watery.
Chamoe, the small yellow Korean melon, is blended with plain yogurt and milk into a cool, slightly tangy yellow smoothie. The seeds and the watery flesh around them are scraped out first, and the ice goes in only at the end, after the flavor is set, to keep the drink from thinning.
Honey and soy sauce cook down into a dark, glossy glaze on this duck breast, while the cold-pan start renders enough fat from under the skin that no oil is added. The portion of marinade for the final brushing is set aside before any raw duck touches it.
Smoked mackerel already carries smoke and oil, and it takes only blanched chwinamul greens, cooked lentils and a Dijon, cider vinegar and honey dressing to turn it into a full salad. Because the flesh flakes apart easily, it goes on last in large pieces.
Browned butter does most of the work: cooked until the foam settles and the solids turn hazelnut brown, it gives these little almond cakes a toasted, nutty smell that plain melted butter lacks. Only egg whites go into the batter, along with almond flour and a spoon of honey. The inside bakes up dense and moist while the edges turn dark and crisp.
Juak trace back to Gaeseong in the Goryeo period and still appear on Korean wedding tables. Small rounds of glutinous rice dough, each pressed with a thumb to leave a dip in the middle, cook through at 150 degrees before the oil goes up to 170 for a light brown color, then roll in warm honey and rice syrup for a glossy coat.
Dried kudzu root gives this tea an earthy, nutty base, with ginger bringing heat and cinnamon a warm spice on top. The jujubes are scored deeply so their sweetness actually reaches the water during the long, low simmer. Strained into a thermos, it stays warm for sipping through the day.
This is Peking duck without the restaurant setup: no hanging the bird, just a rack in a home oven. The skin needs to dry overnight in the fridge, so it starts the day before, and the carved duck is wrapped in thin pancakes with cucumber, scallion and hoisin. Home ovens vary, so don't count on the paper-thin crackling of a restaurant duck.
Poached at a bare simmer and torn along the grain by hand, the chicken breast comes out in moist strands that mix easily with romaine and thin strips of bell pepper. A hard boil would dry it out; instead the heat goes off and the lid stays on so the meat finishes gently through the center. Plain yogurt with mustard and a little honey makes a creamy dressing without any oily sauce, while corn and boiled egg add sweetness and richness. Toppings go on in separate sections and get tossed only at the table. The dressing is kept on the side because poured on early it draws water from the romaine and pepper and leaves them limp.
Sliced almonds go into a caramel cooked from cream, sugar, honey and butter, and small spoonfuls of it bubble up again in the oven and spread into thin amber rounds studded with nuts. Once cool they set hard as glass, snapping cleanly before the caramel turns a little chewy. The backs get a thin coat of melted dark chocolate.
Dried persimmons are split along one side, opened flat, and rolled around cream cheese mixed with honey and lemon juice, plus coarsely chopped walnuts. After 20 minutes wrapped in the fridge, each slice shows a round of white cream and walnut inside the chewy fruit. If the persimmons have dried hard, five minutes in a damp paper towel keeps them from tearing as they are opened.
Cooked chestnuts make this cold shake thick enough to eat with a spoon, and dried jujubes give it a dense, fruity sweetness. Straight from the bag the jujubes do not break down well, so they soak in warm milk for about ten minutes until soft before going into the blender.
Doenjang, Korean fermented soybean paste, gets mixed with a little gochujang, garlic and honey and spread over rockfish fillets in a coat thin enough to see the flesh through. Any thicker and the paste and honey burn before the fish is done. Laying the fillet skin side down and leaving it alone keeps it from curling.
Deodeok, a Korean mountain root, has an earthy smell and a gentle bitterness, and orange segments and arugula answer it with acidity and a peppery bitterness. The root is pounded and seared in the same pan as the chicken tenders, glazed with soy sauce, and a light dressing of lemon juice, soy sauce, olive oil and honey lands somewhere between Korean and Italian.
In this Greek pie, sheets of filo, each brushed with butter, are layered around a semolina custard, and a syrup of sugar and honey goes on after baking. Semolina leaves the custard faintly grainy in a way a flour-thickened one is not, and lemon zest scents it. The syrup is cooled to lukewarm before it meets the hot pie, which keeps the top layers crisp while the bottom soaks it up and turns soft.
Strained Greek yogurt is thick enough to hold banana, kiwi, and blueberries on top without spreading. Granola starts absorbing moisture the moment it touches the yogurt and goes on just before eating, while the chia seeds, given five minutes, swell into springy beads of gel.
The jujubes simmer until soft and are pressed through a sieve so only their pulp goes back into the tea, which makes it thick rather than clear. Once the pulp is in, it catches on the bottom of the pot quickly and needs constant stirring over low heat. There is a little ginger in it, and each cup gets a few pine nuts on top.
The soy marinade gets its sweetness from grated pear and onion juice as much as from sugar. With honey in there too, the ribs catch easily, so this is not something to walk away from while it cooks. The batch serves four, sized for a holiday table or guests.
Bellflower root and chestnuts both come into season in autumn, and this salad puts the lingering bitterness of lightly blanched root next to the soft, crumbly sweetness of cooked chestnut. Julienned Korean pear adds cool juice, and a cider vinegar dressing thickened with plenty of ground perilla seed ties everything together with a nutty, toasty aroma. Quartering the chestnuts lengthwise keeps them in chunky pieces that stand out, yellow against the white root and pear.