Recipes: Korea

March 03, 2008

A Craving for Kimchi

Talk about consuming passions. No, not the usual man-woman thing, but a deliciously spicy passion, an intense addiction, an ecstatic love gratified morning, noon and night with—kimchi.

I’ve not met anyone with more devotion to this fiery hot, garlicky Korean pickle than my friend Clark Akers. Not even the Koreans I know speak of it with such awe.Clarks_kimchi_soup_20001

Clark always had kimchi on hand at home. He would eat it for breakfast with bacon and eggs, at lunch with a sandwich or soup and at dinner instead of a salad. He adored it so much that I think he would have eaten it even with apple pie.

When we would meet for lunch in Koreatown, Clark would demolish all the kimchi that came with the banchan, ask for more, then order more to go. One of the highlights of his life was when a Korean friend brought him a jar of his mother’s homemade kimchi.

Clark has now moved on to other realms where, I hope, the kimchi is as heavenly as he deserves. I never eat Korean food without thinking of him, and I prize the one tangible memento that I have—his recipe for kimchi soup. Clark brought me a taste one day, and it was as good as he claimed. Luckily, I asked for the recipe.

Here it is, in memory of my friend, Clark Edgar Akers.

CLARK'S KIMCHI SOUP

1 quart water
1 carrot
1 stalk celery
½ small red bell pepper
2 to 3 green onions, including some of the tops, thinly sliced
1 slice bacon, cut in bite-size pieces
2 tablespoons frozen green peas
2 mushrooms (any type), sliced
1 beef bouillon cube
1 (3-ounce) package ramen noodle soup with seasoning packet
1 1/3 cups cabbage kimchi, cut in short lengths if in long pieces

Place the water in a large saucepan and set aside.

Cut the carrot in half lengthwise, then crosswise in ¼-inch slices. Cut the celery stalk in half lengthwise, then crosswise in ¼-inch slices. Quarter the bell pepper lengthwise, then cut crosswise in ¼-inch slices.

Add the carrot, celery, green onions and bacon to the saucepan of water. Bring to a boil, then boil gently, uncovered, 15 minutes.

Add the bell pepper, peas, mushrooms, the bouillon cube, the  ramen noodles and their seasoning.  Cook 3 to 4 minutes.

Add the kimchi and cook until heated through, about 2 minutes.

Makes 4 side dish servings or 3 servings as a main dish.

February 25, 2008

Feasting on Kalbi Chim

Getting invited to a home-cooked Korean dinner is a rare honor any time. But this night, the main dish was to be one of my favorites--kalbi chim, a succulent, slightly sweet and irresistibly good dish of braised beef ribs.

Sejungs_galbi_jim_90001_2 My friend Sejung Kim had offered to cook. Knowing how much I like kalbi chim, she had consulted with Seong Yeon, a friend in Seattle who is expert at this dish.

The ribs, rice and a salad would have been enough, considering that it takes three days to make kalbi chim properly. But no. Sejung cooked everything else she could think of to make an extraordinary Korean meal.

Sejungs_kamja_bokum_10001 The food was beautiful, like art work. Just one example—kamja bokkeum, strands of potato and bell peppers woven into an artful design.

We started with a soup. toenjang jjigae, based on a delicate broth made from anchovies and kelp. Into this, Sejung had put cubes of beef and potato, tofu, zucchini, shiitake mushrooms and onions. And of course toenjang, which  is fermented soy bean sauce--Korean miso.

Sejungs_soup_80001 Most Korean restaurants serve marinated bean sprouts, sukju namul, and Sejung had made them too, seasoning the blanched sprouts with rice vinegar, sugar and sesame seeds.

We also ate dried young fern shoots (kosari) in an appetizing blend of soy sauce, sesame oil, sesame seeds and green onions—basic seasonings for much Korean food.Sejungs_cucumbers_30001

There were sliced Persian cucumbers marinated with spicy red pepper paste (kochujang), garlic and sugar. And white kimchi, mild and delicate rather than spicy with red pepper.

Plain rice would have been fine, but Sejung had made an ornate dish of short grained white rice combined with both sweet and regular brown rices and black beans.  This is called kongbap, kong meaning beans and bap cooked rice.Sejungs_kongbap0001

The vegetable dishes may sound simple, but some of them required hours of preparation. The kosari for example, had to be soaked, rinsed, boiled, soaked again, then sautéed.

The highlight, of course, was the kalbi chim (sometimes the dish is spelled kalbi jim,  kalbi tchim or galbi jjim), ornamented with Asian red dates and chestnuts, and sprinkled with  pine nuts and hairlike strands of dried red chile, called silgochu. 

In Korean restaurants, I usually drink Korean beer, but Sejung likes Sangiovese or Shiraz with Korean food, and by chance I had brought along a Mosby Sangiovese 2004. Sejungs_nectarines_100001

We finished with fruit, a pretty dish of white nectarines in syrup flavored with white Zinfandel.

The following weekend, with the taste of kalbi chim still fresh in my mind, I went to a Korean market, bought the ingredients and started the three days of preparation.

The results were sumptuous. The procedure isn’t as difficult as it sounds. Much of the time is devoted to marinating the meat to concentrate the rich flavor. 

I’m not the only one who thinks that kalbi chim  is a wonderful dish.  In his column The Minimalist in the New York Times Dining In section (February 13, 2008), Mark Bittman  ranked  French style braised short ribs and “the standard Korean kalbi jim”  as “stunning classics.”

The kalbi chim that Sejung makes is far from “standard” though.  Its intricate flavors and painstaking preparation place it on a level that, as far as I’m concerned, is in the stratosphere.

SEJUNG’S KALBI CHIM

4 pounds kalbi  (beef ribs, labeled big beef ribs in the Korean market where I shopped), cut in short lengths
½ cup grated Asian pear
¼ cup sake
3 tablespoons sugar
½ cup soy sauce
½ medium onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons minced green onion
2 tablespoons minced garlic
2 teaspoons sesame oil
2 teaspoons sesame seeds
½ cup water
1 inch ginger root, peeled and cut in thin slices
15 jujubes (Asian dried red dates)
15 fresh or dried chestnuts, optional,
1 tablespoon pine nuts
Fine dried red chile strands (ask for silgochu in a Korean market), optional 

Start the preparation 2 days before serving. On the first day, place the ribs in a large bowl or dishpan and cover with cold water. Let stand 2 hours.

Drain the ribs, rinse and pat dry with paper towels. Place them in a container with a lid. Grind the pear in a food processor or blender. Combine the pear, sake and sugar with the meat and mix well. Cover and marinate in the refrigerator 1 hour.

Combine the soy sauce, onion, green onion, garlic, sesame oil and sesame seeds in a food processor or blender and process until pureed. Add to the meat. Mix well. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, place the meat in a Dutch oven. Add ½ cup water, cover and bring to a boil. Add the ginger root slices. Reduce the heat, cover and cook over medium low heat 3 hours.

Meanwhile, soak the dates until softened enough to slit them and pry out the seeds. After 2 hours, add the seeded dates and the dried chestnuts, if using, and cook 1 hour longer.

Let the meat cool. If any bones have separated from the meat, remove them and discard. Return the meat and cooking juices to the washed storage container. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, remove as much of the congealed fat from the meat as possible. Turn into a Dutch oven and reheat to serving temperature.  Transfer the meat and juices to a large heated serving container. Sprinkle with pine nuts, and with dried red chile strands if you are bold.

Makes 4 to 5 servings.