I am sad to announce that the kimchi from last month is almost gone. Good news is that it has fermented just enough to be perfect for a nice bowl of soup. Keeping in mind of the last kimchi stew I had, I added carrots and onions for the sweetness, but kept it more traditional, with a lot of spice, and kimchi flavor which yielded a deeply satisfying result.
I really don’t cook for just myself very often. I eat well when I am alone, but when I don’t have others to feed, making sure that I consume all the nutrients that I need and that it’s satisfying in the basic level is the extent of my meal. Even when I am alone while I am cooking, the end result is usually shared. Recently I was admiring a friend of mine who makes elaborate, imaginative meals even when she is just cooking for herself. This day, I think I felt what inspires her to put the extra little effort. Kimchi stew has been my favorite food since I was a child, and I really only make it for me. Because, I am sorry, Korean restaurants of New York, but I always find something wrong and off about your kimchi stew. This was a great afternoon for cooking, away from staring at the screen in my studio, in my light drenched kitchen. The stew was perfect in a sullen day when I had very little appetite but was hungry for something warm.
Later that day when I spoke to my mom on the phone, I told her about the kimchi stew that I made. I was particularly proud of this one, with my use of mushrooms and the carrot. She was surprised by the addition of carrots, so I explained to her that I did it in order to add sweetness without using sugar. And then she said to me in shock, “who puts sugar in kimchi stew?!”
I guess I’ve been living outside of Korea for so long that I forgot how things are supposed to be.
There’s a pretty big culinary event that I left out in October. That is, my very first hosting of Chuseok, the Korean Thanksgiving celebration. I tried my best to quickly come up with something comparable to the traditional menu, but of course it deviated to match my need, ability, and resources.
One of the biggest rituals for Chuseok is Charye. Of course, we’re not sprung from the same ancestors, so we decided instead, to pay respects to the luminous beings who we have recently lost, as they have profoundly touched our lives: MJ and Swayze. I wish that we had something nicer than Jim Beam to offer, but we had that, and cachaça. And would ever I expect to find Dalton sippin’ on a little glass of capirinha with a dainty lime wedge in Road House? I don’t think so. Although Bodhi, maybe.. and MJ, definitely. Anyway..
I documented some of our process, partially because I think that my mom would get a kick out of them. Fortunately, I think that now I am ready to take it to a more serious level next time. This month is the American Thanksgiving, which is a bit more simple than the Korean one, and I’m quite excited for it, not only for the food and an excuse to get together with everyone, but also because of the leftovers. Which is why I have decided to dedicate this entire week to talking about leftovers! (Something needs to happen with all the food portraits in the hard drive…)
And below is the recipe for my favorite dish of Chuseok.
Vegetarian Taro Soup
*경고- 전통적인 토란국을 찾는다면 이 조리법을 절대 따라하지 말것.
300g medium sized toran/taro (@ Korean market, ask for ‘toran’. @ Japanese marker, ask for ‘araimo’ or ‘eddo’)
200g of a Korean/daikon radish (@ Korean market, ask for ‘mu’. @ Japanese marker, ask for ‘daikon’)
1 yellow onion
3 large sheets of dashima/kombu (@ Korean market, ask for ‘dashima’. @ Japanese marker, ask for ‘kombu’)
5 large shiitake mushrooms
1 or more medium size scallions
1 tbsp soy sauce
2 or more cloves of garlic, 1 sliced, and 1 chopped
a pinch or ground sesame seeds
sea salt and ground black pepper to taste
Peel the skin of taro using a knife or a potato peeler, and wash thoroughly. Taro skin can make your hands itchy, so wear plastic gloves if your hands are sensitive. (My hands were fine w/o gloves.) Bigger taro should be cut in half, so that all taro pieces are the similar size. If desired, cut each pieces in to round ball shapes.
Like all Korean soups, taro soup will be eaten with rice, which should be cooking in the cooker before starting the soup. Save the water that was used to wash the rice before going to the cooker, and use this water to boil the taro. This will get rid of the sliminess of the taro. When the taro is soft but still on the firm side (not mushy) discard the water and wash taro in cold water. Set aside.
Wash the radish, cut into quarters length wise, and slice in to 1/3 inch slices.
Put dashima/kombu, half of the scallions, onion, mushrooms, garlic, and radish slices in about 8 cups of water and bring to boil and then bring to simmer. When the radishes are as soft as the taro, take out all solid ingredients using a strainer or a cheese cloth to filter, and keep the water simmering.
Discard the scallions and onions. Wash the radish slices, onions, dashima/kombu, and the mushrooms in cold water. Season the radishes with chopped garlic, ground sesame seeds, and 1 tbsp of soy sauce.
Cut the boiled dashima/kombu into 1.5 inch squares, and slice the mushrooms. Julienne the remaining 1/2 of an onion. Put all ingredients including the cooled taro back in the broth, and bring to boil one more time. Season with salt and ground black pepper. Serve with chopped scallions sprinkled on top.
Serves 4-6.
I am sad to announce that the kimchi from last month is almost gone. Good news is that it has fermented just enough to be perfect for a nice bowl of soup. Keeping in mind of the last kimchi stew I had, I added carrots and onions for the sweetness, but kept it more traditional, with a lot of spice, and kimchi flavor which yielded a deeply satisfying result.
I really don’t cook for just myself very often. I eat well when I am alone, but when I don’t have others to feed, making sure that I consume all the nutrients that I need and that it’s satisfying in the basic level is the extent of my meal. Even when I am alone while I am cooking, the end result is usually shared. Recently I was admiring a friend of mine who makes elaborate, imaginative meals even when she is just cooking for herself. This day, I think I felt what inspires her to put the extra little effort. Kimchi stew has been my favorite food since I was a child, and I really only make it for me. Because, I am sorry, Korean restaurants of New York, but I always find something wrong and off about your kimchi stew. This was a great afternoon for cooking, away from staring at the screen in my studio, in my light drenched kitchen. The stew was perfect in a sullen day when I had very little appetite but was hungry for something warm.
Later that day when I spoke to my mom on the phone, I told her about the kimchi stew that I made. I was particularly proud of this one, with my use of mushrooms and the carrot. She was surprised by the addition of carrots, so I explained to her that I did it in order to add sweetness without using sugar. And then she said to me in shock, “who puts sugar in kimchi stew?!”
I guess I’ve been living outside of Korea for so long that I forgot how things are supposed to be.
There’s a pretty big culinary event that I left out in October. That is, my very first hosting of Chuseok, the Korean Thanksgiving celebration. I tried my best to quickly come up with something comparable to the traditional menu, but of course it deviated to match my need, ability, and resources.
One of the biggest rituals for Chuseok is Charye. Of course, we’re not sprung from the same ancestors, so we decided instead, to pay respects to the luminous beings who we have recently lost, as they have profoundly touched our lives: MJ and Swayze. I wish that we had something nicer than Jim Beam to offer, but we had that, and cachaça. And would ever I expect to find Dalton sippin’ on a little glass of capirinha with a dainty lime wedge in Road House? I don’t think so. Although Bodhi, maybe.. and MJ, definitely. Anyway..
I documented some of our process, partially because I think that my mom would get a kick out of them. Fortunately, I think that now I am ready to take it to a more serious level next time. This month is the American Thanksgiving, which is a bit more simple than the Korean one, and I’m quite excited for it, not only for the food and an excuse to get together with everyone, but also because of the leftovers. Which is why I have decided to dedicate this entire week to talking about leftovers! (Something needs to happen with all the food portraits in the hard drive…)
And below is the recipe for my favorite dish of Chuseok.
Vegetarian Taro Soup
*경고- 전통적인 토란국을 찾는다면 이 조리법을 절대 따라하지 말것.
300g medium sized toran/taro (@ Korean market, ask for ‘toran’. @ Japanese marker, ask for ‘araimo’ or ‘eddo’)
200g of a Korean/daikon radish (@ Korean market, ask for ‘mu’. @ Japanese marker, ask for ‘daikon’)
1 yellow onion
3 large sheets of dashima/kombu (@ Korean market, ask for ‘dashima’. @ Japanese marker, ask for ‘kombu’)
5 large shiitake mushrooms
1 or more medium size scallions
1 tbsp soy sauce
2 or more cloves of garlic, 1 sliced, and 1 chopped
a pinch or ground sesame seeds
sea salt and ground black pepper to taste
Peel the skin of taro using a knife or a potato peeler, and wash thoroughly. Taro skin can make your hands itchy, so wear plastic gloves if your hands are sensitive. (My hands were fine w/o gloves.) Bigger taro should be cut in half, so that all taro pieces are the similar size. If desired, cut each pieces in to round ball shapes.
Like all Korean soups, taro soup will be eaten with rice, which should be cooking in the cooker before starting the soup. Save the water that was used to wash the rice before going to the cooker, and use this water to boil the taro. This will get rid of the sliminess of the taro. When the taro is soft but still on the firm side (not mushy) discard the water and wash taro in cold water. Set aside.
Wash the radish, cut into quarters length wise, and slice in to 1/3 inch slices.
Put dashima/kombu, half of the scallions, onion, mushrooms, garlic, and radish slices in about 8 cups of water and bring to boil and then bring to simmer. When the radishes are as soft as the taro, take out all solid ingredients using a strainer or a cheese cloth to filter, and keep the water simmering.
Discard the scallions and onions. Wash the radish slices, onions, dashima/kombu, and the mushrooms in cold water. Season the radishes with chopped garlic, ground sesame seeds, and 1 tbsp of soy sauce.
Cut the boiled dashima/kombu into 1.5 inch squares, and slice the mushrooms. Julienne the remaining 1/2 of an onion. Put all ingredients including the cooled taro back in the broth, and bring to boil one more time. Season with salt and ground black pepper. Serve with chopped scallions sprinkled on top.
Serves 4-6.
