683 recipes. Page 14 of 29
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Stir-fried deodeok root sits beside raw cucumber, carrot, and lettuce, so each bite mixes a cooked, gochujang-coated root with cool, crisp vegetables. Most of the sauce goes into the pan with the deodeok; the rest is added when the bowl is mixed.
Thin beef that hits the pan in clumps steams instead of searing. So before it goes into the soy and pear-juice marinade, every stuck-together slice is peeled apart and laid flat.
As halved blue crab grills, the innards in the top shell thicken into a rich paste that serves as a dipping sauce for the meat. That is why the crab is split carefully, without letting them run out. Whatever innards and glaze are left, spooned over rice and mixed in, make a meal on their own.
There is a spoonful of doenjang, but only as a base seasoning, and this tastes more like a clear beef soup made with brisket browned in sesame oil than a doenjang soup. Spring shepherd's purse brings an earthy green scent into the meaty broth.
Salted tiny shrimp (saeujeot) season the eggs instead of salt, and anchovy stock gives them savory depth. Cooked slowly in an earthenware pot (ttukbaegi) over low heat with a gentle stir through the middle, it comes out soft and puffed, nothing like the glassy-smooth custard of Japanese chawanmushi.
Thick, springy jjolmyeon noodles get tossed in a sweet, sour and spicy dressing of gochujang, vinegar and sugar. Cabbage and cucumber soaked in cold water stay crisp against the heat, while a halved boiled egg rounds things out. The noodle is said to have started in the 1970s as a production mistake at a noodle factory in Incheon.
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.
Thin, green gamtae seaweed is harvested in winter along Korea's southwest coast, including Garorim Bay near Seosan. This recipe uses plain dried gamtae, not fresh fronds or the kind seasoned with oil and salt. Because it softens fast once it meets liquid, the seaweed is torn into large pieces, the soy and vinegar dressing is scattered widely, and the mixing is a lift rather than a press, done right before eating.
Perilla seeds are blended with water and strained before joining the pot, which gives the porridge a smooth, nutty body with no gritty hulls.
Because its soy and pear-juice marinade still tastes right once cold, Seoul-style bulgogi often goes into lunchboxes. Apple juice can replace the pear juice and tenderizes the beef much the same way.
Deep crosshatch scoring makes the cuttlefish curl open like a flower over high heat, and every gap fills with a glossy red gochujang glaze.
Shrimp instead of beef makes this seaweed soup lighter, with a clearer taste of the sea. The seaweed and garlic go into sesame oil for two minutes, then the shrimp follow just until they turn pink, and the water goes in right away.
Thick rounds of zucchini are hollowed into little cups and filled with beef, tofu and shiitake before steaming. Soft zucchini and dense filling come in the same bite, with thin strips of egg crepe on top.
Well-fermented kimchi gives this glass noodle stir-fry a sour, spicy edge that plain japchae lacks. Squeeze the kimchi hard: leftover juice turns to water in the pan, swelling the noodles and diluting the seasoning. Pork goes in first so its fat flavors the kimchi and onion, and sesame oil is stirred in off the heat to keep its aroma.
Torn lettuce gets a thin, glossy coat of red chili dressing seconds before it reaches the table, usually beside grilled pork belly or other grilled meat. The dressing rests for about a minute first, long enough for the chili flakes to soften and lose their dusty taste. Geotjeori is a fresh, unaged kimchi-style salad, and it does not hold: left to sit, the leaves wilt and liquid gathers in the bowl. When the dressing tastes thin, drying the lettuce matters more than adjusting the sauce: the usual cause is water trapped between the leaves rather than too little seasoning. Thin slices of onion add a sharp edge against the mild bitterness of the leaves. Plum syrup gives a fruitier, subtler sweetness than sugar, and vinegar tempers the chili heat.
Broccoli stems are not wasted: peeled with a vegetable peeler and sliced 3 mm thick, they are cooked along with the florets. Soup soy sauce with a little lemon juice puts a light acidity under the sharp garlic, while the broccoli's mild bitterness stays in the background.
A heavy stone pot holds heat evenly, so the rice cooks glossy and plump while a toasted crust forms on the bottom. After the rice is gone, hot water poured over the crust makes sungnyung, a toasty rice-crust tea.
Chicken breast, sliced thin across the grain, is seasoned with soy sauce, garlic and ginger and seared quickly. The fussiest part is the knife work: slices of even thickness cook at the same pace.
Garaetteok, the long cylinder-shaped Korean rice cake, turns golden and firm outside and stays stretchy inside when rolled around in butter in a pan. A thin coat of soy sauce and rice syrup goes on next, then sesame salt and crumbled seaweed.
Seasoned only with soup soy sauce, the broth stays clear and the grassy note of spinach comes through, a calm bowl to set next to oily or spicy dishes. Firm tofu cut into generous cubes holds together better as it simmers.
Dried pollock strips turn pleasantly chewy as they absorb a soy and gochugaru glaze, while the potatoes go soft and floury around them. That chewiness depends on a short soak: five minutes in lukewarm water is enough, and anything longer leaves the fish limp and stringy in the pan. The potatoes get a head start for the same reason, so the pollock only needs a few minutes in the sauce. A little oligosaccharide syrup rounds off the saltiness, and the dish holds up well in the fridge for the next day's lunchbox.
Sour kimchi, first fried in sesame oil, flavors the chicken stock, and miso with soy sauce lays a savory, salty layer on top. Frying the kimchi softens its sharp tang so it sits comfortably beside the miso.
Glasswort grows near tidal flats and its thin stems already taste salty, which leaves the seasoning to chili flakes, vinegar, plum syrup and sesame oil with no added salt. The stems pop when bitten, and keeping that snap explains the 10-second blanch and the plunge into cold water right after. Mixing it for too long makes the stems go limp and leaves water on the plate. For that reason the chili flakes are soaked in the vinegar and plum syrup first, and a quick toss then coats the greens. Paper-thin onion adds a little sweetness, and the fruity plum syrup rounds off the vinegar's sharpness.
The dried shrimp go into a dry pan for about a minute first to drive off leftover moisture. The soy sauce and oligosaccharide syrup glaze gets 30 seconds after it first bubbles, and then the heat goes off; any longer and it sets hard. Cooled and sealed, it keeps for a few days at room temperature.