877 recipes. Page 8 of 37
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Rolled around a pan, garaetteok develops a thin, dried-out skin while the inside turns even softer. The soy, gochujang and honey glaze waits until the rice cake has browned, then goes on in two thin coats over low heat.
Because the corn is boiled or microwaved first, the grill is only there for color: a butter, soy and sugar sauce brushed on as the cob turns, until the kernels catch caramelized brown spots.
Gochujang, chili flakes and soy sauce dissolve into beef bone broth, turning the pot red and heavy. Napa cabbage, onion and oyster mushrooms line the bottom with the intestine and tripe piled on top, and as the vegetables soften underneath they sweeten the broth.
In Takasago, Hyogo, nikuten gets built in layers instead of mixed like okonomiyaki: potato, konjac, cabbage, scallion, beef tendon, and tempura crumbs stack on a thin round of batter, which folds in half after saucing. Because nothing is stirred together, the floury potato, soft tendon, and crisp crumbs each keep their own texture. The potato and konjac simmer with the tendon in soy sauce, sugar, and mirin, so all three share the same sweet-salty seasoning.
Pork shoulder has fat running evenly through it, so it braises tender and pulls apart along the grain without drying out. The garlic chives on top are only just wilted and get picked up with each bite of soy-braised pork.
Aralia shoots, the spring buds Koreans call durup, go into this pickle raw so the stems keep their snap and their woody, slightly bitter aroma. The brine leans on soy sauce rather than vinegar, since too much acid would bury that fragrance. Garlic and hot green chili leave a sharp finish, and a brief 20-second blanch is an option for anyone who finds the bitterness strong. Kept submerged and chilled, it lasts about 2 weeks and suits rice or a lettuce wrap with grilled meat.
Spread across a very hot pan and left alone for a moment, the noodles pick up crisp, browned patches while the centers stay chewy, and that contrast defines chow mein. It depends on dry ingredients: noodles boiled just short of tender and cooled, bean sprouts shaken free of water, and vegetables pulled before they weep. A thin coat of sesame oil on the drained noodles stops them from fusing into a clump as they cool. High heat from start to finish keeps liquid from pooling in the pan, where it would steam the noodles instead of frying them. Oyster sauce and soy give the strands a glossy, salty coating.
Mackerel, grilled until the skin crackles, is broken into big flakes while still warm and piled onto cold romaine and perilla leaves. The dressing is soy sauce with yuja (Korean citron) marmalade and sesame oil, and its sweet-tart citrus sits well with the oily fish.
The lotus root, burdock and carrot go into the fat left from browning the chicken before any broth is added, so even after braising the vegetables taste of chicken. It is cooked down until only a little liquid is left in the bottom of the pot, and it reheats fine the next day.
Simmered until the liquid is nearly gone, the fish cakes keep a sticky, sweet-salty shine and turn even chewier as they cool. It has been a school lunch and lunchbox side for a long time, usually made in a big batch to last several days.
Chicken breast glazed in a soy, sugar and onion sauce is topped with scrambled egg and mayonnaise. The eggs cook in a separate pan and come off the heat before they fully set, and the mayo goes on in thin lines.
The sheet fish cakes (eomuk) start with 20 seconds in boiling water to rinse off their surface oil. Skip it and a stale, oily taste lingers after the stir-fry is done. Once the fish cake joins the onion and carrot, it is all over in about three minutes.
Glass noodles seasoned with soy sauce and sesame oil go into seaweed with stir-fried vegetables, rolled tight and fried. Rolling while the filling is still hot wets the seaweed and tears it, so the filling is spread out to cool first. They also get dipped in tteokbokki sauce.
With fat running between the muscles, chicken neck meat never turns dry the way breast does; it chews springy and savory. It gets a short toss in soy sauce, mirin and garlic, a hot sear until a brown crust forms, and green onion stirred in for the last 30 seconds.
You eat this holding a big bone in your hand and gnawing off the meat around it. It is said to have started with hunters in the Okukuma area of Kumamoto, who ate every scrap of meat left on the bones after butchering game. These days it is made with meaty pork ribs and backbone rather than wild boar, cooked in big pots and shared at local gatherings.
Scallions go into the hot pan before the batter, so one side of each stalk touches the metal and browns into a sweet, toasty fragrance that mixing them in would not give. The batter is poured thin, just enough to fill the gaps, which keeps scallion rather than dough in every bite.
Bugeo is pollack dried through the Gangwon mountain winter, freezing and thawing over and over, which leaves the flesh loose and spongy. Soy and gochujang seasoning works its way into those gaps, and the flavor deepens over the few days it keeps in the fridge. Soaking should stop at 20 minutes, or the flesh goes mushy.
Cold, soft eggplant soaked in a sweet-sour soy brine, with garlic and a little hot chili running through it, makes a chilled side dish rather than a long-keeping preserve. The eggplant is cut into thick lengthwise quarters because its tender flesh collapses easily, and thick pieces still hold their shape after blanching. Absorbing the brine takes a full day of chilling, too long for same-day cooking, and the jar stays refrigerated rather than on the shelf.
Peanut butter does the heavy lifting in this sauce, with sesame oil supplying the sesame aroma, so the dish comes together without hunting down Chinese sesame paste. Soy, vinegar, sugar, and chili oil turn it sweet, salty, tart, and gently hot all at once. The noodles get a short ice bath that firms them up, and julienned cucumber and scallion cut through the dense coating. A cold, fast bowl for hot weather.
Soft rehydrated wakame and lightly salted cucumber slices sit in a cold, sweet-sour dressing of soy sauce, rice vinegar, sugar and sesame oil. The recipe is built around plain dried cut wakame that only needs soaking, so there is no blanching step. Salted wakame or a ready-made seaweed salad from the chiller case will not give the same result, since their texture and seasoning differ.
Small steamed rice cakes with a shallow dip in the middle, each one topped with a spoonful of chai poh: preserved radish fried with garlic and soy until salty and browned at the edges. The cake itself is just rice flour, water, and salt, so it tastes of almost nothing and stays soft. All the seasoning sits on top, with sambal chili on the side for heat. Teochew hawkers in Singapore and Malaysia sell it for breakfast, often from stalls that make nothing else.
Steamed eggplant, cooled and torn along the grain, comes apart in silky, slippery strands. They are dressed with soy sauce, rice vinegar, and chili flakes and kept cold, and the more dressing you use, the closer it gets to a chilled salad.
Curry powder turns the rice golden, lighter than a curry-over-rice plate but more aromatic than ordinary fried rice. Chicken breast, onion, carrot and green pepper are all chopped small.
A single cheongyang chili, a hot Korean green pepper, goes into this soy-glazed fish cake. The fish cake is cut into long, thin strips and browned over high heat before any sauce goes near it, and the soy seasoning then goes on so briefly that almost none is left in the pan.