877 recipes. Page 3 of 37
As an Amazon Associate, we may earn from qualifying purchases.
A whole slab of atsuage, thick deep-fried tofu, is simmered uncut in this Fukui side dish, and a cross cut on top lets the broth seep in while the center stays white and plain. Each bite has a seasoned outside and a mild middle. Pouring boiling water over the tofu first rinses off surface oil and keeps the broth clean.
No heat touches the garlic chives: they are simply tossed with soy sauce, vinegar and gochugaru. Pressing or squeezing draws water out of the stems, so the tossing is a light lift for no more than 20 seconds, and the dish is served right away or within five minutes.
A golden crust called fan jiu forms where the rice touches the hot clay, while the top layer stays soft and glossy with fat from sliced Chinese sausage. Hong Kong dai pai dong stalls and old Guangzhou restaurants have long served it as a winter dish. At the table, a mix of soy sauce, oyster sauce, and sesame oil is poured over and stirred through, turning the white rice amber. A sharp scorched smell means the heat must come down at once, since clay holds heat after leaving the flame and keeps toasting the bottom. Too much water, whether in the pot or clinging to the soaked rice, keeps the crust from forming.
Canned silkworm pupae are rinsed, drained and stir-fried until soy sauce and chili flakes cook down into a thin glaze on the outside. In Korea this is a drinking snack, and the firm yet slightly yielding bite sets it apart from fish cake or tofu.
Frozen dumplings go into the pan straight from the freezer. Once the water and lid go on, the browned bottoms soften for a while, and they crisp up again when the lid comes off and the water cooks away. Serve with soy sauce mixed with vinegar and chili flakes.
Agar seasoned sweet and salty with soy sauce and sugar sets around threads of yellow egg and reaches the table as both a sweet and a side dish. In the Shonai area of Yamagata, where agar dishes were part of everyday cooking, adding egg, once a precious ingredient, made it food for New Year and festivals. Each bite pairs soft egg with agar that breaks off cleanly.
Two kinds of salt meet in each shell here: the briny juice of the hard clam and the fermented saltiness of doenjang. That is why the paste goes on thin enough to let the clam meat show through; doenjang varies in saltiness from brand to brand, and a heavy coat buries the shellfish. Over high heat the doenjang surface scorches lightly and turns toasty, and the moment the liquid in the shell bubbles, the clams come off. Another minute and the meat turns tough.
There is no dough: buckwheat flour is scattered straight into simmering anchovy broth and cooks into small lumps that hold the liquid. Leftovers firm up as they cool, and cut small and browned in a dry pan they are good all over again.
Plenty of finely chopped garlic chives go into the ground beef, so these bite-sized jeon come out flecked with green. Tofu squeezed dry makes them softer than meat alone, and the soy sauce and sesame oil seasoning still tastes clear once they have cooled.
Two tablespoons of gochujang set the base, and half a tablespoon of chili flakes adjusts the heat. Pork shoulder is first cooked with a little of the water, then the seasoning is fried onto it for a minute, which keeps the gochujang from floating separately in the broth. It suits being ladled generously over cold rice.
Peeled quail eggs turn chestnut brown on the outside while the yolks stay bright yellow. Reducing the soy glaze all the way makes them too salty. Stop while a shallow pool of sauce remains. A sliced cheongyang chili, a sharp Korean green chili, adds a little heat at the end, and a night in the fridge lets the seasoning sink in further.
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.
Sirloin is seared, rested for five minutes and sliced over the noodles, while the sauce comes from the same pan: meat juices, butter, sliced garlic, soy sauce and a spoon of mentsuyu, the Japanese bonito-and-kelp noodle base. The pasta water is added and emulsified quickly into a glossy coating, before long simmering can turn the soy sauce harsh and salty.
Thick slices of dotori-muk (a mild, faintly bitter acorn jelly) are folded into lettuce, perilla leaves and cucumber dressed with soy sauce and vinegar. Chilled before slicing, the jelly has a firmer bounce.
Yeast-raised wheat dough wraps a filling of ground pork, cabbage and scallion seasoned with soy sauce and sesame oil, and the soft, light skin holds in the juices. The pleats at the top do more than shape the bun: they keep those juices from leaking out during steaming.
Cedrela shoots are dressed only with soy sauce, garlic, and sesame oil, keeping the seasoning plain so the aroma of the young shoots stays in front. Trimming a little extra from the lower stems, which are much thicker than the tender tips, lets the whole shoot cook evenly in just 40 seconds of blanching.
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.
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.
Breast or thigh both work, but thigh, with more fat, is the one that stays juicy over direct heat. The gochujang, soy and honey glaze goes on thin, two or three times, building up a sticky shine, and the skewers keep turning over medium heat because honey scorches fast.
Gizzard shad are small enough to eat bones and all, and shallow scores along each fish do two jobs: they let the gochujang glaze reach the flesh and cut the fine pin bones so they are barely noticed. Syrup in the glaze caramelizes into a glossy amber coat, but it also burns quickly, which keeps the pan at medium the whole time.
Napa cabbage and onion line the bottom of the pot, beef goes on top, minari (Korean water parsley) rings the edge, and the octopus sits highest of all. When its legs curl up and turn bright red, the heat goes off at once and everything is ladled out with the broth.
Firm tofu is sliced about 1 cm thick, pressed under a weight for at least 15 minutes, then seasoned with salt and pepper. Soy sauce stays on the side for dipping instead of being poured over. Hot from the pan the egg coating is lightly crisp, and it softens as it cools.
Jjageuli is not supposed to leave much broth behind. Gochujang seasoning is fried in rendered pork fat, thick-cut potatoes go in, and as they simmer they slump and crumble until only a shallow, thick sauce is left in the pot. It sits closer to a rice topping than a soup.