47 recipes. Page 2 of 2
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Napa cabbage and onion line the bottom of the pot, beef goes on top, minari (Korean water parsley) rings the edge, and the octopus sits highest of all. When its legs curl up and turn bright red, the heat goes off at once and everything is ladled out with the broth.
The brisket is seared first to render its fat, and the gochujang and chili flakes are fried in that fat to build the base of the broth. The minari, cut into 5 cm lengths, waits on the side until just before the heat goes off, then goes in only long enough to wilt.
This recipe uses only pufferfish sold already cleaned by professionals for eating, never fish you prepare yourself. The lean fillets sit on a wide bed of bean sprouts and steam in a gochujang and chili flake sauce, and the sprouts soak up the spicy liquid while keeping their crunch.
Ten minutes of salt is all the water dropwort (minari) gets, so the stems stay crisp and the fresh, grassy aroma comes through intact. Even draining is gentle, a light press with the palm, since wringing the stems would cost them that snap. Anchovy fish sauce gives the light herb a savory base, and the fruity tartness of plum syrup softens the chili heat, while finely grated onion binds the paste into one smooth seasoning. Served with fatty pork belly or boiled pork, the herb clears the richness from the palate between bites. It is best eaten cold on the day it is made, before the stems wilt further.
One pot of spicy anchovy broth carries three rounds: thin beef and vegetables first, then kalguksu noodles, then fried rice scraped from the bottom. Beef slices go in one at a time, since a clump stays red in the middle. Each round leaves more flavor in the broth for the next. Stop the rice once a thin crust starts to form, before it scorches.
Doenjang, Korean fermented soybean paste, is whisked into plain yogurt, and the result is a light, creamy dressing that keeps the paste's savory depth while softening its weight. Pan-seared shrimp bring a clean sweetness, and minari (Korean water parsley) adds a fresh, green aroma.
Bulgogi-cut beef is seared in the pot just until it changes color, then the soaked rice and water go in on top and cook with it. Water parsley and the last of the soy sauce are laid over after the heat is off, and the parsley is still green when everything is stirred together. A heavy-bottomed pot leaves a layer of scorched rice as well.
No stock is needed: the salty liquor from the dongjuk, a surf clam, makes the broth on its own. Radish adds a little sweetness, and a single cheongyang chili leaves just a hint of heat.
Only half a tablespoon of gochugaru goes in. The broth stays clear and tastes mostly of clams. Minari and a Cheongyang chili are added after the heat is turned down and cook for just a minute. With the clams purged ahead of time, the cooking itself takes about ten minutes.
Fermented skate carries a sharp ammonia sting, and steaming it under a gochugaru and gochujang paste tames that edge without erasing it. In Jeolla Province the dish turns up at feasts and ancestral rites, and the smell is the point rather than a flaw.
Slicing cooked octopus thin and wide with the knife laid at a low angle shortens its tough fibers, so each piece chews easily. Cho-gochujang, gochujang sharpened with vinegar and sugar, coats it in a sour heat, while minari (Korean water dropwort) adds a fresh, herbal aroma and cucumber and onion bring crunch.
Pieces of catfish simmer in a gochujang broth, and thin pinches of flour dough go in partway through, so fish and sujebi dumplings come out of the same pot. Before cutting, the catfish is rubbed well with salt to strip off its slippery coating, which otherwise leaves a muddy taste in the broth.
A full 120g of water parsley (minari) turns an everyday doenjang stew green and sharply aromatic, with a peppery, grassy bite against the fermented soybean broth. The minari simmers for only 2 minutes and comes off the heat while the stems are still crisp, not limp and stringy.
Briny clams and the clear sweetness of persimmon come together cold in a hot-mustard dressing, a Korean naengchae, or chilled salad. The clams are blanched briefly and moved straight into ice water so residual heat does not keep cooking them. Minari (water parsley) adds a grassy bitterness that balances sweet and salty, and red cabbage contributes crunch and purple color. Fine strips of Korean pear release juice that spreads the dressing through the bowl. Firm persimmon works better than soft, holding its bite even when sliced thin. Vinegar and hot mustard paste leave a sharp, clean finish, so it suits a seasonal starter for guests.
Tofu and water dropwort (minari) are nearly all there is in the bowl, so the anchovy broth stays clear and light. The minari is pulled off the heat while its stems are still crisp and bright, and the soup goes straight into bowls.
This is the dried pollack soup Koreans often make the morning after drinking, with a handful of spring water dropwort (minari) added. Pollack strips toasted in sesame oil give the broth its base, beaten egg drifts through it in soft ribbons, and the grassy minari lightens the whole heavy bowl.
Brisket simmered for about 25 minutes gives a clear, light brown broth. The cooked beef can be torn along the grain and returned to the soup, or lifted out and dipped in a seasoned soy sauce.
Mulmegi is caught off Korea's east coast from December to February, and its flesh is so soft that it nearly dissolves into the pot once cooked. Even in this clear soup that gives the broth some body, enough that it sets almost like jelly as it cools. Once the fish is in, shake the pot rather than stirring it.
A curled tentacle and a white surface do not prove the thickest part of the octopus is cooked. Instead of a fixed time, this recipe relies on a thermometer and keeps the pot going until the center has held at 75°C or more for over a minute.
Natto is ground in a mortar until no whole beans are left, then stirred into miso soup, and the broth turns softly thick with the fermented aroma spread evenly through it. It is a Yamagata winter home dish from a season when fresh food was scarce, made with stored foods like dried taro stems (imogara) and salted mountain vegetables. In some areas it was also served at New Year, for Nanakusa, or at Daikoku-sama observances.
Simmering the whole rockfish, bones and all, gives the broth a body that fillets alone cannot. Its many fine bones call for care at the table, but they are also where the broth gets its flavor.
Octopus and flat slices of tofu share the pot with anchovy broth seasoned with soup soy sauce and garlic, no chili, and water dropwort and green onion are laid on top. It stays on a low flame at the table for everyone to serve themselves. The octopus is most tender right when the legs curl and turn opaque, and toughens the longer it simmers.
No soy sauce and no chili go into this octopus soup; salt alone seasons it, and the broth stays clear. Once the broth returns to a boil the octopus cooks for just three minutes, and the water dropwort (minari) goes in right before the heat is turned off, wilting for about 20 seconds.