323 recipes. Page 3 of 14
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A clear, gently beefy broth carries thin somyeon, slices of brisket, and a handful of minari, the Korean water parsley whose sharp, grassy smell rises first from the bowl. Seasoning stays minimal, just soup soy sauce, garlic, salt, and pepper, and with the floating fat skimmed off, the brisket adds savoriness without making the soup greasy.
The first thing you taste is ground perilla seed (deulkkae), which clings to the sprouts in a pale, nutty coating. The sprouts steam in a little water under a lid rather than boiling, so they stay crunchy and hold less water.
Rice, onion and carrot simmer in chicken stock, and ground perilla seed stirred in at the end thickens the porridge. The chicken breast is poached on its own and shredded along the grain, then added only once the rice has nearly broken down, just to heat through.
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.
The broth of this soup gets its flavor from the gourd. Thin squares of white bottle gourd flesh simmer for ten minutes until translucent, giving a mild, clean taste, and only then is the small octopus added; once cooked, it is cut with scissors and shared among the bowls.
With no chili, only soup soy sauce for seasoning, the broth stays clear and the clean taste of the puffer fish comes through. The garlic is kept to a minimum for the same reason. Use only professionally cleaned puffer fish from a verified supply chain.
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.
Instead of a soup, ground perilla seed, perilla oil, and soup soy sauce form a thick, nutty sauce that clings to fine somyeon noodles. Chwinamul, a Korean wild aster green, brings a distinctive mountain-herb scent that the toasted perilla balances. The greens are blanched only briefly and shocked in cold water, so they stay deep green with some bite. Spring chwinamul has the strongest aroma.
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.
Dureup, the spring shoots of the Korean angelica tree, are around only briefly each spring. They get no more than 30 seconds in salted boiling water before going on top of the rice to cook under the lid; any longer and the bitter, woody scent fades and the green turns dull. The rice cooks in kelp stock.
Ground perilla seeds are whisked into water ahead of time, and that perilla water goes in once the Korean zucchini (aehobak) and oyster mushrooms start releasing their juices. Stirred for a few minutes, it thickens until it stops running and simply coats the vegetables. Soup soy sauce does the seasoning.
Canned silkworm pupae are drained and rinsed rather than heated in the can liquid, then simmered in fresh water. By the time chili flakes and cheongyang pepper turn the broth red, the pupae's strong smell has mellowed, and the heat depends on how many chili seeds stay in. It goes to the table steaming, as a drinking snack.
The whole can of tuna, oil included, is tipped into the pot with water. No stock is made separately, and that oil is what the broth builds on. Some add ramen noodles to stretch it into a full meal.
Twelve whole garlic cloves braise alongside the beef until their raw bite disappears and they turn soft and mellow. Shiitake mushrooms take on the soy glaze and a glossy sheen, and they add an earthy aroma to the beef stock that plain jangjorim, Korean soy-braised beef, does not have. An overnight rest in the fridge lets the seasoning soak all the way in, and the flavor is noticeably darker the next day.
Poaching chicken breast directly in the anchovy stock gives the clear broth of janchi guksu, Korea's party noodle soup, an extra savory layer. A little sesame oil tossed through the shredded chicken makes the lean breast meat taste moist, while separate yellow and white egg-crepe strips, zucchini, and carrot add color. The recipe scales up easily, making it practical for feeding a crowd.
Swiss chard leaves are thicker and tougher than spinach, so they don't go limp even after sitting in their dressing for a while. The dressing is doenjang (Korean soybean paste), finished with ground perilla seed and perilla oil for a thick, nutty coating.
Pork shoulder simmered for about an hour in beef bone broth turns the soup milky and full-bodied. Salted shrimp (saeujeot) and salt come on the side so each person seasons their own bowl, which is how it is eaten in Busan.
Peeling is most of the work here: the thin outer skin has to come off the whole length of each stem, because leftover fibers stay stringy no matter how long they cook. Peeled and blanched, the sweet potato stems turn a clear olive green, and ground perilla seed added at the end thickens the little pan liquid into a nutty, clinging coat. The last step stays brief because that coating sticks to the pan quickly.
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.
Two cheongyang chilies go into the water whole, uncut, and simmer for eight minutes to make a spicy stock. Before that, the anchovies are toasted for about a minute in a dry pot; the water has to go in as soon as they smell nutty, or bitterness creeps into the broth. Seeding the chilies first takes the heat down.
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.
The knife-cut noodles go straight into the chicken stock instead of a separate pot, and the starch they shed turns the broth slightly thick and silky while the noodles soak up the chicken flavor. That single-pot cooking is what separates kalguksu from a plain chicken noodle soup. Right after the noodles drop in, a stir along the bottom frees any that stick; after that, gentle stirring keeps them from breaking. Thigh meat, rather than breast, stays tender even after the shredded chicken returns for a final simmer. Black pepper is the main seasoning accent, sharpening the savory stock in a bowl built for cold days.
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.
Oysters go into the pot last, after the rice has broken down and the radish is soft, and they need only a few minutes to stay tender. Most of the work is the long simmer before that: rice and minced radish, first toasted in sesame oil, cook for over 30 minutes and like to stick to the bottom, so stir from the base often.