480 recipes. Page 2 of 20
As an Amazon Associate, we may earn from qualifying purchases.
Unlike agujjim, the gochujang-heavy steamed monkfish, this one simmers down in a soy-based broth, where salt and sweetness come before heat. As the liquid reduces, the monkfish and radish take on an amber gloss, and that sauce gets spooned over rice.
Salting decides the texture of this napa cabbage kimchi: under-salted leaves weep liquid and turn mushy during fermentation, while over-salted ones bury the seasoning. Blooming the gochugaru in sweet rice paste before the fish sauce goes in gives a heavy paste that clings to each leaf instead of sliding off. Spread it thinly between the layers, since too much filling makes the kimchi salty and soft. Fresh-tasting at first, it grows deeper and tangier after about a week, and well-soured kimchi is the one to use for kimchi-jjigae or stir-fried kimchi.
Tamarind gives this fish broth its sour backbone, with flaked mackerel and rice noodles underneath and cucumber and mint on top. A finely blended paste of onion, garlic, and ginger forms the base and carries the chili heat. The mackerel is cooked and boned before it goes into the soup, so the bowl is easy to eat. Cucumber and mint add a cool, fresh finish to the hot, sour broth.
Chicken thighs marinated in gochujang, chili flakes, and soy sauce are stir-fried with cabbage and onion like dakgalbi, Korea's spicy chicken stir-fry, then simmered in cream into a pink, gently spicy sauce. The cabbage and onion hit the pan before the chicken to draw out their sweetness. Thigh meat is used because it suits the cream sauce. Sauce fills the thick rigatoni tubes and gives each bite both heat and richness. Mozzarella melted in at the end stretches like the cheese on cheese dakgalbi. The final seasoning waits until the sauce is done because gochujang brands differ in saltiness.
Rubbing bellflower root with salt, rinsing it, then blanching it for just 3 minutes takes away bitterness while keeping a firm crunch. Julienned Korean pear brings cool sweetness to a sharp, spicy dressing of gochugaru (Korean chili flakes) and vinegar. A teaspoon of fish sauce gives the seasoning depth, and sesame oil goes in last so its aroma stays on top. The pear loses juice and softens the earlier it goes in, so the root is seasoned first and the pear folded in at the very end. It is best eaten while both are still crisp, when bitter root, sweet pear and sharp dressing shift from one to the next in each bite.
Snow crab legs, shrimp, potatoes, corn, and sausage are tossed in a red butter sauce of garlic, Cajun seasoning, and Korean chili flakes, then spread out across the table. The potatoes and corn boil in water while the seafood steams separately, so the crab and shrimp stay dry enough for the sauce to cling. The sauce stays over low heat so the garlic and spices do not scorch, and the chili flakes push the heat beyond what the Cajun seasoning gives alone. Shaking everything with the warm sauce in a large bowl or bag works it into the crab joints and shrimp shells. Expect to eat it with your hands, cracking shells as you go, with lemon on the side.
Mashed potato and green peas, seasoned with garam masala, cumin, and chili powder, go inside a stiff dough that has oil rubbed into the flour. A half-round of dough is rolled into a cone, filled, and pressed shut into the triangle that makes a samosa recognizable. They are fried golden and served warm with mint chutney or tamarind sauce.
Store-bought changnanjeot, salted pollock innards, sits in a fine sieve for a minute or two while its thick brine drips away, then gets a fresh dressing of gochugaru, garlic, scallion and sesame oil. Pressing it in the sieve would dry the pieces out, so it is left alone. Covered and chilled for at least 10 minutes, it goes out in small portions.
Chicken thigh, cabbage and onion stir-fried with gochujang and chili flakes get cold rice tossed in, turning dakgalbi into fried rice. Once it is mixed, the rice is pressed against the pan for 30 seconds to sear the bottom, then covered with mozzarella and melted under a lid.
Thin slices of pork shoulder, green asparagus and red bell pepper share one pan. Peeling the lower part of each spear lets the thick end cook as fast as the tip. The pork comes off the heat when the thickest slice reaches 63°C at the center, then rests for 3 minutes.
Part of the gochujang sauce is set aside the moment it is mixed. The rest marinates the chicken thigh, while the reserved portion never touches raw meat and goes on as a final glaze near the end of grilling. Each skewer holds two or three pieces of chicken for every piece of green onion, and they cook until the edges just char.
Coarse chili flakes stand in for gochujang, so the wings bake into a rough, spicy crust with the flakes stuck right into the skin. For more heat, swap part of the flakes for hotter cheongyang chili powder.
Canned silkworm pupae are drained and rinsed rather than heated in the can liquid, then simmered in fresh water. By the time chili flakes and cheongyang pepper turn the broth red, the pupae's strong smell has mellowed, and the heat depends on how many chili seeds stay in. It goes to the table steaming, as a drinking snack.
A Gangwon province dish: buckwheat batter is cooked crepe-thin, rolled around a stir-fried filling of aged kimchi, tofu and pork, then crisped in the pan a second time. Buckwheat has no gluten, and the batter needs more than 10 minutes' rest before it can be spread thin without tearing. Unrinsed aged kimchi keeps its fermented sourness in the filling; rinsing it makes the filling milder.
Kimchi goes down first, then Spam, sausages, tofu and rice cakes are laid over it in neat rows by type, with the seasoning paste piled in the middle. The water is poured in around the edge rather than the center to keep those rows in place.
Pollock roe and milt are braised together in a chili and soy sauce. They come from the same fish but cook in opposite directions: the roe firms up, each tiny egg popping under the teeth, while the milt turns soft as custard and breaks into tender curds. In east coast port towns, where fresh roe is easy to find during the pollock's winter spawning season, it has long been a winter dish.
The bitter, herbal aroma of bangpungnamul (coastal hog fennel) cuts through the chili paste and makes this kimchi taste nothing like the napa cabbage kind. That aroma depends on a blanch of only 20 seconds, and any longer leaves the stems limp. Kneading would dull the scent too, and the greens are only lifted and turned through the paste. A spoonful of soup soy sauce adds depth without extra saltiness. After 2 hours at room temperature it goes into the fridge and is served cold from the next day.
Wide ribbons of hand-stretched dough, slapped against the counter as they lengthen, come to the bowl with chili flakes and garlic piled in the middle. Oil heated to just short of smoking is poured over that pile, cooking the garlic and chili on contact, while soy sauce and vinegar underneath turn it into a sharp, savory dressing. With all-purpose flour, resting does more of the work than kneading, and a strip that shrinks back or tears needs more time under cover, not a harder pull. The broad, thin ribbons get stirred the moment they hit the boiling water, before they can stick to each other.
Anchovy fillets melt into garlicky olive oil until they disappear, leaving salt and savor with no fishy edge, and gochugaru, Korean chili flakes, adds a warm heat to that oil. Broccolini cooks in the pasta pot during the last minutes so it stays crisp and slightly bitter, and pan-toasted breadcrumbs give the soft, ear-shaped orecchiette something crunchy to play against. The crumbs are kept aside and scattered on just before serving so they stay crisp.
Thick slices of dotori-muk (a mild, faintly bitter acorn jelly) are folded into lettuce, perilla leaves and cucumber dressed with soy sauce and vinegar. Chilled before slicing, the jelly has a firmer bounce.
Hot, pan-fried potato patties sit under cold yogurt, tamarind chutney, mint chutney, and finely chopped red onion in this Indian street snack. The pleasure is the clash of temperatures and textures, and it fades quickly: the cold toppings start softening the crust as soon as they land, which is why assembly happens right before eating.
Cheonggak, a branching green seaweed, gets just ten seconds in boiling water: enough to turn it a deep green while keeping its crunchy, almost cartilage-like bite. It's dressed with plenty of vinegar and eaten right away.
Mozzarella melted over gochujang-glazed chicken thigh pulls into long strands and softens the chili heat. A pan that is not hot enough lets the cabbage and onion release water, and the sauce ends up thin instead of clinging.
Canned silkworm pupae are rinsed, drained and stir-fried until soy sauce and chili flakes cook down into a thin glaze on the outside. In Korea this is a drinking snack, and the firm yet slightly yielding bite sets it apart from fish cake or tofu.