480 recipes. Page 9 of 20
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Leaves picked from pepper plants after the chili harvest make this namul, and they are at their most tender in August and September. They keep a slightly bitter, green aroma even after blanching, and the chili flakes are kept to an amount whose heat does not bury it. The thin leaves take the seasoning almost at once and go to the table as soon as they are mixed.
Even the liquid from the can of mackerel pike (kkongchi, a Pacific saury) goes in, two tablespoons of it, adding the taste of the fish to the kimchi sauce. Once the fish is in, the spatula splits it only two or three times, and it still sits on the rice in large chunks.
Maesil-cheong (green plum syrup) in the marinade gives this gochujang pork neck an unusually tart finish. Perilla leaves, barely cooked, are mixed through the meat.
Boneless thigh pieces get only a potato starch coat and two trips through the oil, the second one hotter. The sweet and spicy gochujang and corn syrup glaze goes on in a pan already off the heat, with about twenty seconds of tossing. Even cold, the pieces still crunch when you bite in.
Minced garlic warms in olive oil over low heat until it turns pale gold, and only then does the heat go up for the boiled octopus. Three to four minutes in the pan browns the edges while the pieces stay springy. Paprika powder in place of the chili flakes makes a milder version.
Gochujang, chili flakes and soy sauce dissolve into beef bone broth, turning the pot red and heavy. Napa cabbage, onion and oyster mushrooms line the bottom with the intestine and tripe piled on top, and as the vegetables soften underneath they sweeten the broth.
A tablespoon of doenjang is stirred into the red chili broth to tame the fishiness. The frozen pollock is thawed only partly, just enough for a knife to get through the bone, and cut while still firm; fully thawed, the flesh crumbles.
This cold-weather braise calls for frozen pollock on purpose, not fresh. Freezing and thawing firms up the flesh and leaves it slightly spongy, and the pieces hold together through a long simmer in the spicy broth.
Chili flakes stirred into the brine and never strained out leave flecks of red through the pale, cool broth of this clear spring water kimchi. Shredded Korean pear sweetens the liquid gently, and 8 to 12 hours at room temperature give it a light, refreshing tang. Sedum, a small succulent spring green, gets only a quick swish in cold water, since long washing makes it grassy. It joins the jar last and is folded rather than pressed so its tiny leaves stay crisp. Because the ferment is short, the broth and greens are best eaten cold within a day or two, ladled over rice.
Hot gochujang-marinated pork goes straight onto cold rinsed somen (thin wheat noodles), putting warm meat and chilled noodles in the same bite. The pork shoulder sits in gochujang and chili flakes with soy sauce and sugar, which lay a savory sweetness under the heat. A short, fierce stir-fry keeps water from pooling in the pan and lets the edges caramelize while the inside stays moist. Cabbage and onion cook in the same pan, adding sweetness under the chili heat. A rinse in ice water makes the boiled noodles chewier. The two are combined only right before serving, since thin noodles mixed too early soak up moisture and swell.
Sliced paper-thin on the bias, about 0.1cm, the cucumber takes on the dressing quickly and turns tender while keeping its crunch. Vinegar brightens the cucumber's cool, watery freshness, and the chili heat follows quietly behind. It shows up constantly on Korean summer tables, on its own with rice or piled onto naengmyeon and bibimbap. It is mixed close to mealtime, since after about 30 minutes the cucumber starts weeping water and goes limp.
Godeulppaegi is one of the more bitter Korean greens, and most of the prep time goes into soaking it in cold water after blanching. If a taste says it's still too sharp, change the water and soak it again, then dress it with gochujang and vinegar.
Piling bean sprouts high on the soaked rice and cooking them together lets their moisture seep into the grains, while the sprouts turn slightly translucent and still keep a little crunch. The rice itself is unseasoned; a soy sauce dressing with sesame oil, chili flakes, green onion and sesame seeds does all the work when spooned on and mixed in. Some cooks add julienned radish to soften the beany smell of the sprouts.
Mayonnaise stirred in after the heat is off keeps the dried squid strands soft and moist even once the dish cools. The pan comes off the heat as soon as the strands start to clump together, since a sauce cooked any longer scorches and turns bitter.
The octopus is already cooked, so all the pan has to do is reduce the gochujang sauce onto it. Over high heat, it is done the moment the sauce darkens at the edges and turns glossy.
Only chili flakes and soup soy sauce season the beef bone broth in this Seoul version, with no gochujang, so it turns red yet stays clear and sharp. The intestines simmer alone for about 12 minutes to release their rich, fatty filling before cabbage, onion, and oyster mushrooms go in and soak it up. The style traces back to the gopchang alleys of Euljiro and Majang-dong in Seoul, and a pot like this is usually shared over soju, with perilla leaves added at the end for fragrance.
Tofu, kimchi, chili flakes, green onion and anchovy stock: that is the whole list, so the broth tastes mostly of however sour the kimchi has become.
The oyster mushrooms are torn by hand into thick strips along the grain, and they stay chewy even after the braise. The sauce starts from plain water rather than stock; the mushrooms give it all the savoriness it needs.
Young spring napa cabbage (eolgari) soaks up seasoning quickly through its thin leaves and tender stems and turns pleasantly sour by the next day. That speed cuts both ways: 20 to 30 minutes of salting is plenty, and longer turns the stems tough. The stems are a better signal than the clock: the cabbage is turned once midway, and salting stops as soon as they bend slightly. Salted shrimp and fish sauce fill in savory depth that a short ferment would otherwise lack, while glutinous rice paste helps the chili seasoning cling to every leaf. Koreans make this lighter kimchi in spring, when aged winter kimchi starts to feel heavy.
Scallion-infused oil, a hot wok and a quick toss of chili flakes give this red seafood soup its smoky, spicy base. The flakes stay in the oil only briefly, since even a little scorching leaves the whole pot bitter. Chicken stock carries the broth while squid and mussels add their own savoriness, and soy sauce ties the seasoning together and darkens the soup to a reddish brown. Wilted cabbage and onion soften the heat with sweetness. Seafood toughens with long boiling, so once the broth comes up to a boil it is ladled straight over chewy wheat noodles cooked in a separate pot.
Blanched squid tossed in gochujang, chili flakes and vinegar works as both a drinking snack and a side dish with rice. Timing decides almost everything: past a minute to a minute and a half in boiling water the flesh contracts and turns rubbery, while undercooked squid stays translucent in the middle. An ice bath right after stops the carryover heat and locks in the springy bite.
Braised dried pollock comes out soft and moist; this version tosses the dry shreds straight into a gochujang, vinegar, and oligosaccharide syrup dressing and keeps them chewy. With no stove involved, it takes about 15 minutes when a side dish is needed in a hurry.
Bean sprouts simmer uncovered in anchovy stock for just 5 to 6 minutes, long enough to drive off their raw, grassy smell but short enough to keep them crunchy. This is the Jeonju style of kongnamul gukbap, a sprout soup poured over rice. An egg is slipped in whole rather than beaten, and it is ready when the white has set around a still-soft yolk. Seaweed flakes and a pinch of chili flakes go on top, and in Korea it is a common hangover meal.
Canned whelk is warmed briefly in a gochujang sauce sharpened with vinegar, then tossed off the heat with raw onion, cucumber and scallion. Unlike the cold whelk salad, the sauce here is warm while the vegetables stay raw and crunchy.