779 recipes. Page 11 of 33
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Tuna batter, mixed with chopped onion and carrot, is spread thin on single perilla leaves, and each leaf works as a base plate that keeps the patty in one piece when it is flipped.
Tang usually signals soup, but there is little broth here: it cooks down until the red sauce clings, glossy, to the chicken and potatoes. The big potato chunks, still holding their shape, get spooned onto rice along with the sauce.
Braised a long time with bone-in chicken, the radish turns brown from all the chicken stock and chili sauce it takes in. The potatoes crumble at the edges and thicken the sauce.
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.
Fresh noodles are laid over kimchi and oyster mushrooms, the lid goes on, and they cook in the steam rising from the kimchi juices. Almost no liquid is left at the end, so it looks like a stir-fry, but the sour, spicy kimchi flavor goes right through each strand.
Italian sausage, slipped out of its casing and torn into rough pieces, browns in the pan and leaves behind fat that becomes the base of a tomato and cream rosé sauce. Tearing rather than slicing gives the meat more ragged surface to brown. When the sausage throws off a lot of fat, blotting some away keeps the finished sauce from turning greasy once the cream is in. Gochugaru, Korean chili flakes, gets only about 20 seconds in the oil, enough for a mild warmth without a burnt edge, and the grooves of the fusilli catch both sauce and crumbled sausage.
A brief dip in boiling water firms the surface of acorn jelly, which helps the soft slices survive being tossed in a soy, vinegar and chili dressing. Mixing them takes a few gentle lifts from the bottom rather than stirring, as they still break easily.
Simmered slowly with pork shoulder and sausage, the white beans start to break down and thicken the broth on their own, without any roux. The work starts the day before, with the beans soaking for at least 8 hours.
Bhature balloon up the moment they hit the oil. In Punjab and Delhi, people tear them apart to scoop up chole, a thick chickpea curry, and that is breakfast. Dough for bhature is usually left until it ferments a little; here yogurt and baking powder go in and it rests for just 20 minutes.
Like Japanese home curry, this one gets its body from a block of curry roux, with chicken thighs as the meat and enough in one pot for four plates. Only the potato is cut a little larger than the other vegetables, so it still has its shape after simmering.
Mung bean jelly (cheongpomuk) is nearly tasteless and breaks easily, and keeping the pieces whole takes most of the care in a stir-fry. A 30-second blanch firms the surface a little and washes off loose starch, which helps the soy sauce stick.
Sweet potato, carrot, onion, squid, and shrimp share one pot of oil here, and they cook at very different speeds. Slicing the dense vegetables thin lets their centers soften before the coating darkens, while dry seafood spits less in the oil and carries a lighter batter. Cold water and a brief stir give a light, shattering shell, and the platter goes to the table with a small dish of soy sauce instead of salt.
Sliced sora, a Korean sea snail, stays chewy, with the gochujang sauce cooked right down onto it and no liquid left in the pan. A weak flame lets water pool and turns it into a stir-fry, so the pan goes on high. Trim off the tough innard end while slicing.
The chicken breast is pulled into long shreds, so it hangs off the spoon together with the egg noodles. If you plan on leftovers, lift the noodles out and store them separately; otherwise by the next day they will have soaked up the broth.
Spring water dropwort (minari) is cut into long pieces, stems and all, and fried with shrimp. The stems still crunch after frying, and it comes with soy sauce sharpened by a few drops of vinegar.
It also goes by dak bokkeumtang, and although the name ends in tang, meaning soup, it is reduced for about 25 minutes until the sauce clings to the chicken. The chicken pieces are blanched for three minutes and rinsed of bone fragments before they go into the pot. Sugar in the sauce makes the sweetness as clear as the heat.
Drumettes, potato and onion all go into the pot raw with the gochujang sauce and braise under a lid, with no searing or frying beforehand. As they cook, the meat around the bone turns firm and chewy and holds on to the thickening sauce. With a little extra time, browning the drumettes in a pan first deepens the color and flavor.
Crunchy seaweed stems carry a layer of salty soy and sharp vinegar over a faint taste of the sea. The stems are blanched for only about 20 seconds and squeezed dry right away; that brief dip is what keeps their snappy chew. Onion lends the brine a natural sweetness and cheongyang chile a hot finish. Salted stems vary in saltiness, so the soaking time is adjusted by tasting a strand.
Chewy canned whelk, slippery somyeon and crisp cucumber and onion all meet in one spicy-sour gochujang dressing, a classic drinking snack in Korea. A spoonful of the canning liquid stirred into the sauce deepens its savory base, while a quick rinse of the whelk itself tames the salt. Ice-cold water right after boiling keeps the noodles firm and bouncy once the dressing goes on.
Gochujang, Korean red chili paste, is fried briefly first so its sweet, fermented heat sits underneath the tomato in this beef ragu. The flavor base comes from ground beef left untouched until it browns and sticks, then red wine scraped across the pan to dissolve those browned bits. Wide rigatoni tubes fill with the thick sauce and carry bits of meat inside each piece.
Finely grated feta covers chopped tomato, cucumber, green pepper, and onion like a layer of snow in Bulgaria's best-known salad. There is no separate dressing: juice from ripe tomatoes mixes with the olive oil and red wine vinegar and becomes the sauce at the bottom of the bowl. Green pepper's grassy bitterness keeps the salty cheese and watery vegetables from tasting one-note. The feta brings plenty of salt on its own, so the vegetables get only a light seasoning to start. Scraping out the cucumber's seed section means less water diluting that sauce, and tossing right before eating keeps the vegetables firm.
Cubes of chicken breast, mushrooms and bell pepper finish together in a mild, creamy sauce made from milk and chicken stock. The chicken is seared only until opaque and pulled out early, then completes its cooking in the sauce, which keeps the breast meat moist.
There are no noodles in this high-heat stir-fry of chicken breast, bok choy, carrot, mushrooms, and bean sprouts; it sits beside rice, with a light brown sauce that coats rather than pools. The carrot is cut thinner than the softer vegetables so everything finishes at once while the bok choy stems keep their crunch.
Chicken breast glazed in a soy, sugar and onion sauce is topped with scrambled egg and mayonnaise. The eggs cook in a separate pan and come off the heat before they fully set, and the mayo goes on in thin lines.