99 recipes. Page 3 of 5
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Dried radish greens (siraegi) sauteed in perilla oil bring a nutty, chewy base, and clams add a clean, briny broth on top of it. The clams are added near the end and release salt as they open, so final seasoning waits until after they do.
Seasoned radish greens (siraegi) go into hot perilla oil before any liquid, which toasts the doenjang and carries its savory smell into the plain water added afterward. Soup soy sauce (guk-ganjang, a lighter, saltier Korean soy) backs up the seasoning. Splitting the thick stems lengthwise lets them soften at the same pace as the leafy parts, and the slow, low simmer turns tough stems pliable. It finishes with just a shallow pool of liquid in the pot, good for mixing into rice.
Well-fermented napa kimchi brings sourness and depth, and burrata answers with mild, milky cream. The kimchi is shaken free of excess seasoning and spread wide across the plate, so no single bite ends up too salty. Perilla oil and olive oil share the dressing, pine nuts add a buttery note, and arugula keeps the whole plate from feeling heavy. Halved cherry tomatoes scatter fresh, fruity acidity in between. Burrata left out for 10 minutes before serving is soft enough that, torn open at the table, its creamy center runs into the kimchi juices.
Bibimbap rarely goes without it and ancestral rite tables almost always include it, so bracken namul tends to be made in large holiday batches and eaten over several days. Records of eating it go back to the Three Kingdoms period, and the traditional cooking fat is perilla oil, not sesame. It tastes fine straight from the fridge.
Taro goes in just as the rice grains start to swell, so part of it melts into the porridge and thickens it while the rest stays in soft, fluffy cubes. The rice is toasted in perilla oil at the start, which puts a nutty note under the taro's earthiness. Soup soy sauce and salt season it lightly, and chopped green onion goes on top.
Before the rehydrated chwinamul (aster scaber, a Korean mountain green) goes near the pan, it is dressed by hand with soup soy sauce, minced garlic and perilla oil, the way a namul side would be. Seasoned first and cooked second, every strand ends up evenly salted.
The brisket is patted dry before it meets the perilla oil. Wet meat tastes boiled instead of toasty, and the radish greens then go into that same oil. That step is where the soup's nutty depth comes from.
As it simmers, the tough stems of the ugeoji (blanched outer napa cabbage leaves) loosen and soak up the doenjang. A little gochujang tints the broth reddish, and rice-rinse water gives it more body than plain water would.
Taro stems are long and fibrous, and in this dish they soak up a creamy perilla-seed broth between their strands, bending softly when you bite and releasing that nutty liquid. With only soup soy sauce for seasoning and onion and garlic softened in perilla oil for a gentle sweetness, the dish ends up mild rather than spicy or salty. The sauce is thick enough to coat a spoon and sits well over rice.
Chewy brown rice, plump barley, and soft lentils give three different bites in every spoonful. Each grain is cooked separately and cooled completely before mixing, since hot grains would wilt the vegetables. Instead of olive oil, the dressing uses perilla oil, a toasty Korean seed oil, with apple cider vinegar. Halved cherry tomatoes release juice that works as part of the sauce, while cucumber and red onion add crunch between the dense grains. Made ahead, it keeps its flavor and travels well in a lunchbox.
Cooked with doenjang instead of soy sauce, bracken picks up a deeper fermented smell and a heavier taste that stands up to its bitterness. The paste is loosened in water before it goes in, which keeps it from catching on the bottom of the pan as it simmers.
Perilla oil is the only source of aroma. Shiitake, carrot, the rice and the lotus root are all sautéed in it before cooking, so the grains come out glossy, with thin slices of lotus root staying crisp throughout.
Perilla oil goes in twice, once to heat the pan and again after the heat is off, so its nutty smell sits on top of the slightly bitter chwinamul, a wild aster green. The boiled greens are squeezed only until they stop dripping, and whatever water is left cooks off in the pan with the soy sauce.
Taro stems, the stalks of the taro plant, soak up broth like a sponge but keep a firm, springy chew. A generous amount of ground perilla seed, added in stages, makes the soup pale and thick, and when rice goes into the bowl the broth seeps between the grains.
Brisket browned in perilla oil, then doenjang and chili flakes fried in the same fat, give this stew a savory, toasty base before any water goes in. The blanched cabbage leaves spend about 25 minutes in the pot, soaking the beef broth deep into their fibers, while the thinly sliced brisket cooks until it pulls apart along the grain. With only greens and beef in the pot, the flavor is simple and hearty.
Blanched outer leaves of napa cabbage are thinner than dried radish greens and, once tossed with doenjang (Korean soybean paste) and covered, soften in under twenty minutes. Trimming off the stringy stems and thick ribs first is what makes the texture even; left in, they stay fibrous among the tender leaves. The seasoned leaves are stir-fried in perilla oil before any water is added, laying a nutty base under the salty bean paste. If the liquid cooks off too quickly under the lid, a splash more water is needed before it turns salty or catches on the bottom. Ground perilla seeds scattered in at the end thicken the liquid so it clings to the greens, giving a mellow, nutty side dish for rice.
Bitter, herbal chwinamul (a Korean wild green usually dressed as a namul side dish) meets the sweetness of roasted sweet potato in a perilla oil and soy dressing. The greens lose that bitter aroma and their clear color first if they sit in the boiling water too long.
Young perilla shoots have tender stems and an even stronger herbal scent than the mature leaves. The 40-second blanch is short on purpose to protect that aroma, and a doenjang dressing with perilla oil, pressed from the same plant's seeds, layers the scent instead of covering it.
Young spring mugwort is mild, with little bitterness, and lean chicken breast leaves its grassy scent clear. The seasoning is kept light with soup soy sauce and cooking wine, and the mugwort, tough stems picked out, goes in last and comes off the heat while still bright green.
Doenjang stirred into rice-rinsing water gives this soup a softer, rounder broth. The tough outer napa leaves (ugeoji) simmer until they hang limp from a spoon, and a little cheongyang chili at the end leaves a sharp kick.
Pork ribs braise for 40 minutes in a spicy soy, gochujang and chili sauce, and young radish greens (yeolmu) join only in the last few minutes, bringing a fresh, grassy note and crunchy stems to an otherwise heavy braise. Because stems and leaves cook at different speeds, the leaves are added last and just wilt. Before any of that, the ribs soak in cold water and get a quick blanch to rinse away the foam and impurities caught between the bones. Thick-cut onion joins once the meat starts to slide off the bone and softens without falling apart. Green plum syrup softens the chili heat with a little fruity sweetness, and a spoon of perilla oil gives the finish its gloss.
Soybean leaves are bigger and thicker than perilla leaves, and here they are boiled and dressed with doenjang and perilla oil, country style. Fresh ones appear only in summer and turn up more at rural markets or farm stands than in supermarkets. They need 5 to 6 minutes of boiling to soften the tough fibers, but much longer and their nutty aroma fades.
The deodeok, a fibrous mountain root, goes into the pan ahead of the eggplant and onion, because eggplant cooks far faster. Its earthy bitterness is toned down beforehand with a short soak in salted water.
The broth is a ruddy brown, nutty from doenjang and spicy from chili flakes. The outer cabbage leaves (ugeoji) soak it up the longer they simmer, so each soft spoonful of greens comes up full of seasoned broth.