81 recipes. Page 1 of 4
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Egg beaten with a generous amount of dashi and steamed in individual cups sets into a soft, trembling custard that is savory, not sweet. It firms at the edges while the center still wobbles, with the broth flavor up front. Shrimp, sliced shiitake and ginkgo nuts sit at the bottom, and each spoonful turns up something different.
Shiitake cut into thick slices soak up a soy and syrup glaze until the outside turns glossy brown and the inside stays chewy. The braise stops before the pan goes dry, while the sauce still coats a spoon lightly; reduced all the way, it starts to scorch. Sesame oil goes in after the heat is off, and a few minutes of cooling lets the glaze soak in further.
Clam meat, julienned radish and shiitake cook on top of rice in kombu water, and the finished pot gets mixed with a soy, sesame oil and scallion sauce at the table. The radish steams over the rice and sweetens it, and cutting it thin (0.3 cm) lets it finish at the same time as the rice. The soaked rice has to drain well, since the kombu water is measured for rice without surface water. The clams go on only near the end so they stay plump.
Oyster mushrooms torn along the grain come apart in thin strands, while shiitake cut 5 mm thick have a fuller chew. Whether the mushrooms were rinsed matters less than whether they go into the pan wet or piled in layers.
The word gungjung, royal court, points back to the food of the Joseon palace. Soy sauce and sesame oil do the seasoning, so there is no heat, and bulgogi-cut beef and shiitake go in with the rice cakes. The beef is seared only on the outside and set aside, returning to the pan after the rice cakes have softened.
Three mushrooms, king oyster, shiitake and oyster, are cut to roughly the same size and cooked in one pan. They hold a lot of water, and turning them too early steams them instead of browning, so wait until the underside is golden and flip only once.
Soy-marinated bulgogi beef releases its sweet seasoning into the broth as it cooks, flavoring the shiitake, enoki and glass noodles around it. Because the pot stays on low heat at the table, the noodles go in while still slightly firm so they hold up instead of turning mushy as the meal goes on. Onion laid across the bottom adds its own sweetness to the broth.
Perilla seed powder has a heavier nuttiness than sesame with a slightly bitter finish, and in this jeon its aroma actually gets stronger once the pancake cools. Before they meet the batter, the oyster and shiitake mushrooms spend a minute in a dry pan to drive off their water. Soy sauce in the batter means it is seasoned enough to eat without a dipping sauce.
Shiitake stays chewy, oyster mushrooms go soft and silky, and enoki keeps a light crunch: three textures in one doenjang stew. The mushrooms go in equal amounts but not all at once. Shiitake and oyster simmer first to flavor the anchovy broth, and enoki joins near the end so it does not collapse. The doenjang is pressed through a sieve so the broth stays smooth rather than gritty.
This bulgogi never goes over a flame. It simmers down in its marinade in a wide pan and comes to the table still juicy, with about half the liquid left. Soy sauce is the only seasoning, no gochujang or doenjang, in the inland North Gyeongsang manner, and in Andong it has long been set out in its pan at ancestral rites and family gatherings for everyone to serve themselves.
Chewy shiitake caps and meaty strips of king oyster mushroom hold their chew through days in a garlicky soy, vinegar and sugar brine with dried chili. Cutting both to a similar thickness lets them season at the same pace. One minute of blanching is enough. Any longer and the mushrooms turn soft and watery. Squeezing them firmly afterward matters more than the blanch itself, since leftover water dilutes the brine.
Beef and shiitake share one soy and garlic marinade and hit the pan together, letting the mushrooms soak up the meat juices instead of tasting like a separate vegetable. What sets this japchae apart is the last step: after everything is tossed in a bowl, it goes back into a hot pan just long enough to drive off loose seasoning. The noodles should end up clear and bouncy with no thin sauce pooling underneath. Sweet and salty japchae like this is a fixture of Chuseok, Seollal and birthday tables in Korea.
Finely chopped shiitake and button mushrooms stand in for ground meat, and a tablespoon of soy sauce reduced with tomato paste and white wine gives the ragu a salty depth. Mushroom liquid left in the pan is almost always behind a watery sauce. The mushrooms stay on high heat until they stop steaming and brown, and only then does the ragu cling to the wide pappardelle.
The negi go into the dry pot first, no oil, and brown at the edges before the warishita is poured in, a premixed blend of soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and sake. Cabbage, shiitake, grilled tofu, and shirataki each get their own patch of the pot, and the thin beef goes in a few slices at a time, lifted out as soon as it is cooked.
The shiitake and onion are minced fine and sautéed in sesame oil before the rice goes in, so the mushroom flavor runs through every spoonful without chewy bits. It's a mild porridge, seasoned with just a little soy sauce and pepper.
King oyster mushrooms are torn lengthwise by hand, so their fibrous grain stays intact. They are seared in a dry pan first to drive off moisture, which is why the soy sauce clings as a dark glaze instead of turning watery.
Oyster mushrooms are torn along the grain, shiitake sliced thin and king oyster mushrooms cut on the bias, and each of the three has its own chew in the bowl. The base is an onion stock, yet perilla seed powder and tofu make it filling, and two minutes of rest off the heat lets the thick broth settle.
King oyster and shiitake mushrooms go into the same pan together. The batter is only a thin coat, so once fried, the mushrooms' aroma and chewy grain come through ahead of any taste of flour.
A clear mushroom stew seasoned with kelp water and soup soy sauce, made without a drop of oil. To keep the broth from clouding, the foam is skimmed and, once the tofu is in, the pot is gently shaken instead of stirred. The mushrooms are rinsed quickly rather than soaked, since soaking washes out their scent.
Oyster, shiitake and enoki mushrooms differ in thickness and density and cook at different speeds even under the same steam. The firmer shiitake and oyster mushrooms go underneath, the quick-wilting enoki on top, and the dish comes off the heat before the enoki go limp.
This kimchi is eaten the day it is made rather than aged: oyster and shiitake mushrooms get a one-minute blanch and a dressing of gochugaru and anchovy fish sauce. Tearing the oyster mushrooms along the grain into thick strips keeps them from collapsing, and the thick shiitake caps stay chewy throughout. Mushrooms that are not squeezed hard thin the paste and soften further in storage. Even chilled, it is best within 2 days.
Shiitake carries the chew in this meatless japchae, cut into long thin strips alongside the onion and carrot. The seasoning is split: half dresses the sauteed vegetables, and the rest is stir-fried with the boiled noodles so they take on flavor of their own.
The silken tofu here stays in big, soft spoonfuls instead of dissolving into the rice. It goes in only once the porridge is done and is barely stirred after that. The rice and shiitake are first toasted in perilla oil, then simmered in kelp stock.
Shiitake, enoki and oyster mushrooms share one pan, and each keeps its own texture: chewy, threadlike and thick. The first wave of liquid they release has to evaporate over high heat, and the ground perilla seed waits until the mushroom edges look slightly dry. Added any sooner, it turns into a damp paste instead of clinging.