877 recipes. Page 17 of 37
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Pear juice makes up close to half of the marinade for these gochujang pork ribs. It is what makes them tender, and it is also why they scorch so easily. The ribs marinate for an hour or two, cook over medium heat, and get the leftover sauce brushed on only at the very end.
Rice cake has no place in this New Year zoni from the Iya area of Tokushima; firm rock tofu and taro fill the bowl instead. Two long slabs of tofu are crossed on top of the taro, a shape silken tofu cannot hold, and heavily pressed extra-firm tofu is the fallback. The bowl gets just a small pour of hot broth, leaving the crossed tofu in view.
The tofu is cut into thick slices and pan-fried golden before it goes into the doenjang broth. That browned surface lets it take constant ladlings of sauce without falling apart, and it turns a deeper brown as the doenjang soaks in.
Butterbur stems carry a sharp astringency that a long cold-water soak after blanching draws out, while the stalks keep their fibrous structure. The stringy outer layer has to be pulled off first; left on, it stays tough in the jar. Pouring the soy, vinegar and sugar brine, steeped with kelp, over the stems while it is still hot keeps them crisp for longer. Sliced garlic and cheongyang chili give the salty pickle a streak of heat.
Scallion-infused oil, a hot wok and a quick toss of chili flakes give this red seafood soup its smoky, spicy base. The flakes stay in the oil only briefly, since even a little scorching leaves the whole pot bitter. Chicken stock carries the broth while squid and mussels add their own savoriness, and soy sauce ties the seasoning together and darkens the soup to a reddish brown. Wilted cabbage and onion soften the heat with sweetness. Seafood toughens with long boiling, so once the broth comes up to a boil it is ladled straight over chewy wheat noodles cooked in a separate pot.
Daikon cut into very fine threads is crisped in cold water, then piled with bonito flakes and shredded nori and dressed with soy sauce, rice vinegar and a little sesame oil.
Thin slices of pork loin get a thick potato-starch coat and two rounds of frying, which puff the crust into a hard, glassy shell that cracks when you bite. The sauce is just vinegar, sugar, and soy, so it is paler and sharper than the ketchup-red versions common in Korean Chinese restaurants. That tangier style traces back to late-Qing Harbin, where the dish was created to suit Russian guests.
The king oyster mushrooms are torn by hand along the grain instead of sliced, then steamed. The soy, vinegar and chili flake dressing seeps into the torn fibers, and with no oil in the pan the mushroom stays clean-tasting.
These rice balls were handed out to mikoshi carriers at the autumn Yawatanmachi festival in Tateyama, Chiba Prefecture, which is why they are big and shaped to hold in one hand. Inside is pork belly and fried tofu simmered sweet and salty with bonito flakes. The simmering liquid is cooked down until little remains, since it gets mixed into the rice too. One batch makes twenty.
Deodeok root and thin bulgogi beef share one sweet-spicy gochujang sauce, but not at the same moment. Two thirds of it marinates the beef for just 10 minutes, short enough that the meat does not turn too salty, and the rest goes straight onto the deodeok later in the pan. The root is pounded lightly to loosen its fibers, yet left thick enough to hold together when tossed.
Soy sauce, minced garlic, and syrup with a little vinegar make a glaze that is salty-sweet with no heat. Boiled down too long, the soy turns harshly salty, so the chicken goes in while the sauce is still thin and gets just a quick glossy coat over high heat.
Autumn mackerel needs nothing but salt, and that is down to its fat. The fat under the skin melts out and does the frying itself. Grated radish mixed with soy sauce sits alongside. If a pan feels like a chore, an air fryer at 180°C for 15 minutes works too.
Square rice cakes go into the clear soy-seasoned broth without grilling and turn smooth outside and soft through the middle. Aichi is known for dark soybean miso, yet this New Year soup uses none, keeping the broth light in color. Mochina, a traditional green from the Owari area, looks like komatsuna but is more tender and slightly sweet. It is added only after the rice cakes soften so it stays bright. A pinch of bonito flakes is the only garnish.
Long simmering turns the cartilage and tendons of beef knee translucent and soft, and the broth becomes rich enough to set like aspic once it cools. A hard boil clouds the broth, so most of the craft lies in holding the pot at a gentle bubble. In Korea it is mostly a winter dish.
After two or three days in the fridge in a soy and vinegar brine, the water parsley (minari) stays crisp and its fresh, grassy smell picks up a salty, tart edge. Leftover water is what usually turns it limp, so the washed stalks are spread out and dried thoroughly first.
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.
Salmon seared skin side down and broken into large flakes makes the plate eat more like a warm piece of fish with greens than a tossed salad. Searing time depends on thickness and heat, so doneness is judged by the thickest part reaching at least 63°C rather than by the color of the flesh. A soy, vinegar and garlic dressing cuts the oiliness, avocado adds creaminess, and red cabbage with radish sprouts brings crunch and a peppery edge.
Browning gyoza on one flat side only and then steaming them under a lid leaves the pleats soft and tender while the bottom turns golden and crisp. Japanese families brought the idea home from Manchuria after the war, recreating the jiaozi they had eaten there.
These are not fresh soybean leaves but leaves that have been fermented in brine, so the first job is soaking out their strong funk and excess salt before any seasoning touches them. Rather than tossed loose, they are stacked a few at a time with the fish sauce and chili dressing brushed between the layers, then packed into a container and chilled.
The oysters go on only after the rice has absorbed nearly all its water, and they cook in the five-minute rest and nothing more. Added at the start, they would shrink and lose their sweetness. The rice itself is unseasoned; everyone stirs in their own soy, chili flake, scallion and sesame oil sauce.
Balloon flower root has a sharp, bitter edge, so the torn strands are rubbed hard with salt and rinsed twice before they meet the pan. The sauce is gochujang sweetened with oligosaccharide syrup and sharpened with chili flakes, cooked only until it clings to each strand in a thin, glossy layer. Brief cooking keeps a firm bite in the root.
As cabbage and onion wilt over high heat, the moisture they release loosens the gochujang sauce so it coats every slice of sundae, Korean blood sausage. Add rice cakes and it becomes tteoksuni; some finish it with cheese on top.
Mackerel is cut into pieces, brushed with gochujang, soy sauce and ginger juice, and left for 30 minutes before it cooks. Skin side down, the pieces stay untouched for 4 to 5 minutes until the edges set red. Any piece sitting where the sauce starts to blacken gets moved aside.
The sea bream is steamed whole and goes to the table that way, which is why the dish turns up at holiday meals and when guests come. Soy sauce never touches the fish before steaming; it is heated, mixed with the juices that collect on the plate, and spooned over at the end.