168 recipes. Page 4 of 7
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Toasted puffed rice and sesame seeds, the core of gangjeong (Korean puffed-rice and seed sweets), are folded into a brown-sugar cookie dough. A little glutinous rice flour in with the wheat lets the dough spread thin, and the baked cookies crumble lightly when bitten.
These plain glutinous rice balls have no filling: half are rolled in pale roasted soybean powder and half in black sesame powder, with honey on the side for dipping. The dough calls for dry-milled glutinous rice flour. Wet-milled flour or regular rice flour will not take the same amount of water, and the chew changes too.
Kabocha steamed in its skin and blended smooth turns milk into a thick, golden latte with a hint of cinnamon. Any graininess in the purée separates from the milk and lingers on the tongue, so it is blended until no specks remain. Lightly whipped cream is spooned on top just before serving.
Doenjang mixed with honey and lemon juice coats the rich salmon in something salty, sweet and faintly tart. A third of the glaze is set aside before any of it touches the fish, then spread on thinly with a clean spoon once the fillets are turned.
Apple, banana, strawberries and blueberries cut into bite-size pieces get folded into plain yogurt sweetened with honey, whose soft tang sits over the fruit's sweetness. Lemon juice slows browning on the cut apple and freshens the finish, while walnuts toasted briefly in a dry pan bring crunch to an otherwise soft bowl.
The croffle, a café favorite, is made here from store-bought frozen croissant dough and finished savory with garlic butter and grated Parmesan. Left shut in the waffle iron too long, the pastry dries out hard, which is why the first one gets cut open to check for raw dough before the rest go in.
Tangerine peel simmered over low heat until translucent ends up chewy and springy, close to a soft jelly. Two blanchings in salted water take away some bitterness beforehand, but the white pith is not trimmed off completely, since stripping it all weakens the citrus aroma.
Deodeok, a Korean root with a bitter, earthy scent, is steeped gently with ginger and then lengthened with fresh pear juice and sparkling water. The root is only tapped until its fibers loosen, not smashed, and the water never goes past a gentle shimmer at the edges. Pear brings the sweetness that keeps the root flavor in the background.
Once the salmon is flipped, butter melts in the pan, and with the pan tilted it is spooned over the fillets again and again. The gochujang, soy and honey glaze gets a second thin coat in the final minute for shine.
Gamtae, a fine Korean seaweed, crumbles between your fingers into flakes that cover the shrimp and avocado with a light sea flavor. Lime juice, soy sauce and a little honey cut through the richness of the avocado, while red onion soaked in cold water adds crunch without the sharp bite. Blanching the shrimp for only 2 minutes and chilling them straight away keeps them springy rather than dry.
The classic hump needs two things together: a 30-minute rest in the fridge and an oven that starts hot and is then turned down. Hallabong marmalade stirred into the batter leaves small bits of peel throughout, so a faintly bitter citrus note keeps cutting through the butter. A little honey and milk keep the crumb moist.
Nothing is cooked: roasted black sesame powder and almond flour are bound with honey and rice syrup and pressed into a carved dasik mold. A very thin dusting of pine nut powder inside the mold makes the fine pattern stand out on the black surface.
Deodeok root is blanched, blended smooth with milk and warmed, then sweetened with honey and condensed milk. The quick blanch takes the harsh edge off the root, and any tough core comes out before blending. If the root still tastes too strong once the milk is hot, another thirty seconds of stirring over the heat mellows it.
Crisp apple and kiwi, soft banana, and tart strawberries and blueberries end up together in each spoonful, held by plain yogurt sweetened only with honey and sharpened with lemon. Cutting the fruit to a similar size keeps every bite even. The lemon juice does a second job, slowing the apple from turning brown. Banana softens fastest of all, so it joins the bowl last, after everything else is coated. Ten minutes in the fridge lets the fruit juices loosen the yogurt into a lighter, glossier coating.
Whole wheat flour, honey and cinnamon go into a dough rolled to about 2 mm, so the crackers come out harder than a thick sugar cookie and snap rather than bend. They work plain or crushed for a pie crust. Fresh from the oven they still feel soft; the low bake and the drying time in the switched-off oven are what make them crisp; judge them only once fully cool.
Grated ginger is squeezed through cloth, and only the juice is boiled with honey and sugar to 150 degrees, so the candy sets clear as glass with no fibers inside. The pot is never stirred while it boils; stirring forms sugar crystals that cloud the candy.
Ground perilla seed (deulkkae, a nutty Korean seed) whisked into hot milk makes a latte with a deep, toasty aroma. Even sifted, the finest particles settle to the bottom of the cup, so give it a stir right before drinking. A light dusting of cinnamon goes on top.
In a dry, hot pan, halloumi holds its shape and browns into a golden crust while the inside turns squeaky and chewy. It needs only 2 to 3 minutes per side; longer and it turns rubbery. Its saltiness meets thin slices of sweet persimmon head-on, and peppery arugula makes the pairing feel lighter. Red onion soaked in cold water for 10 minutes or more loses its sharpness and stops crowding out the fruit and cheese. White balsamic, paler and gentler than the dark kind, dresses the plate without muddying the orange fruit.
These shell-shaped cakes are best eaten within 30 minutes of leaving the oven, while the edges are still crisp, with black tea or coffee alongside. A generous amount of melted butter browns those edges deep gold, and honey in place of part of the sugar gives a rounder, faintly floral sweetness that granulated sugar alone does not.
Flat slices of jeolpyeon, a plain Korean rice cake, are pan-fried in sesame oil until a thin skin forms, then a soy, honey, and sugar sauce goes in and the heat drops to low for just two or three minutes of turning until they shine. The glaze burns quickly, so the heat goes off as soon as almost no syrup is left in the pan, and sesame seeds and pine nuts go on top.
With wild soybean powder and roasted brown rice powder in it, this tastes like a thick version of misutgaru, Korea's roasted grain drink. The banana spends just ten minutes in the freezer first, and that alone gives it a shake-like body with no other thickener.
Raw kale is fibrous and scratchy, but massaging it with half the dressing darkens the leaves, shrinks their volume and makes them easy to chew. Lemon juice softens the kale's bitterness, while olive oil and honey round out the acidity. Thin apple slices get a light coat of dressing as soon as they are cut, and they stay pale while the rest is prepared. Just 1 minute in a dry pan brings oil to the surface of the walnuts and makes them far more fragrant. Dried cranberries scattered through the bowl add small sweet-tart bursts.
Pressed in a waffle iron, frozen croissant dough gets heat from both plates at once, and the outside turns far crisper than an oven-baked croissant while buttery layers stay inside. Honey and condensed milk go on in thin lines, and just before serving, roasted soybean powder (the nutty coating on injeolmi rice cakes) mixed with a pinch of salt is sifted over the top.
A traditional Korean confection made for Seollal and Chuseok, each one is twisted into a ribbon by pulling one end through a slit in the middle. Even under a coat of honey and rice syrup it shatters lightly, with only the syrup-soaked ends a little chewy. Ginger juice in the dough leaves a faint bite at the finish.