Kalguksu- homemade noodles in broth

What makes a soup is the broth. If the broth isn't good, the soup isn't good.

My family and I ate kalguksu, homemade Korean noodles in beef broth, for dinner Friday night. Kalguksu translates to "knife-cut" wheat noodles. I ate more of the broth than the noodles. It didn't just taste beefy. There was definitely more to it. If I could figure out a way to make this broth, I would eat it with anything.

Besides beef broth, this dish is also made with seafood broth. I'm surprised the soup tasted so good, especially when we ate at a chain restaurant. But Myeongdong Kalguksu didn't feel like a duplicate; it felt like a one-of-a-kind family-owned restaurant.

We ate some huge mandu, or pork dumplings that were boiled.


Have a look at the inside. Wouldn't you want one?

Dried filefish

I used to eat dried filefish, or seasoned, dried fish, when I was a kid. I just liked the unique taste.

Outside the condominium building, a man was selling dried filefish, dried anchovies and dried fruit earlier this week. Dad and I bought a bag of chi-gogi, or dried filefish. (It's also known as jwipo.)

My dad roasted some filefish right over a gas flame. The heat softened it, making it easier for me to chew on the fish. It's hard for me to explain the taste. There's a slight sweetness to it, which complements the savory taste.

Chik tea, a Korean tea made from the kudzu root

I recently had chik tea for the first time. It was smoky and bitter and tasted better with honey. The Korean tea is made from boiling kudzu root.

My father told me he used to chew on kudzu root as a kid, sucking out the juices. I nibbled on a root and went bleh. It tasted really bitter.

"If you're not used to it, you don't like it," my father said as he happily chewed away on his root.

But, I definitely like the tea.

Kudzu root

Recycling is not an afterthought in Korea

Everything in my grandma's apartment that needed to be thrown out or recycled.

I have never separated so much trash in my life. Koreans take recycling very seriously. You are mandated to recycle:

paper: newspapers, regular paper, cardboard, books, notebooks, paper bags
glass: bottles, jars, beer bottles
plastic: bags, food packaging, containers
metals: aluminum, stainless steel, soda cans
styrofoam
milk containers
clothes
plus much more

You are also required to separate food waste and dispose of it properly.

Dad and I took many trips to the garbage and recycling area of the apartment complex. Signs in front of receptacles said glass bottles, beer bottles, plastic, metal, milk containers etc. It's very, very specific. An attendant periodically stopped by to empty receptacles if they became full.

I'm pretty impressed by South Korea's recycling system. In the United States, most of us think of recycling as an afterthought. But here, it's mandatory.

For more information, check out this post by Korea4expats.com.

Past the expiration date

I'm looking at this brown mass of something called "Sunshine Fruit" in a plastic container. I open it up. It smells putrid. I show it to my dad and ask, "Can I throw this away?"

We're cleaning out my late grandmother's condominium in a suburb of Seoul. She was a packrat, and so are my parents.

My dad gets irritated. "No! We will eat it! Don't worry!" he snaps.

I put the brown mass back on top of the microwave. I let it go this time. But my mind plots. The contents of this container will eventually disappear, just like the cinnamon did.

Earlier in the day, I picked up the small spice jar of cinnamon and rotated the jar to see that it had expired in 1998--- 12 years ago.

It's Monday and my dad was already driving me crazy within hours of us landing in Korea. We argued about the 10 eggs in the refrigerator that have been there since November when my grandmother died of congestive heart failure. I think the eggs will kill us, but he thinks they're still good.

Without my dad noticing, I calmly poured the cinnamon into a bag. I knew my parents wouldn't use it up. Cinnamon is never used in traditional Korean cooking. It's probably why the cinnamon has been sitting in my grandmother's apartment for more than 12 years.

I emptied a small jar of grayish-looking sea salt. After separating the trash into glass, paper, plastic and waste, I took a trip to the garbage and recycling area of the complex and the mission was over.

I knew why Dad was incapable of throwing food away. He grew up in South Korea during the Korean War. He had to eat bowls of rice that were only flavored with soy sauce. He didn't have the luxury to leave food on his plate. After he moved to the United States and my brothers and I were born, he still insisted we didn't throw food away. Even if milk was sour, my dad would say, "Don't worry. I'll drink it."

But even though I understand all that, I'm still throwing away food that's past their expiration date.

Chicken Dopiaza or chicken and onion curry

I love the way our apartment smells after I make Indian food. It's the garam masala, that earthy mix of spices, that permeates the air.

The other night, I made chicken dopiaza, or chicken and onion curry. I used a recipe from the January/February issue of Saveur. Onions, ginger and garlic are pulsed to a paste in a food processor, which serves as a base for the sauce. Crushed tomatoes are added, giving the sauce another layer of flavor.

The chicken I made was delectable. I didn't mind that my hands got messy when I picked up a piece of chicken. All I had to do was lick my fingers.

Click here for the recipe in Saveur.

Jajangmyeon- Korean noodles in a black bean sauce

Growing up, I always ate Chapaghetti, the instant noodles version of jajangmyeon—noodles in black bean sauce. The dish is a Korean version of a Chinese dish. My mom used to chop up onions, potatoes and cabbage and add them to the sauce. As a kid, I didn't like the vegetables and pushed them off to the side of my plate.

Now, as an adult, I wanted to make jajangmyeon, but I didn't want to buy a package of instant noodles.

I called my parents to get a recipe. My dad said, "You need onion, potato and cabbage."

From there, I developed a recipe to my own liking. When I ate the dish, it tasted just as good as if I were eating jajangmyeon in a restaurant in Korea.

Jajangmyeon- Noodles in a black bean sauce with pork and vegetables
Serves 4
Ingredients:
1/2 pound Korean homemade noodles, which can be found in the frozen section of an Asian grocery store.
Alternative: regular pasta
1/2 pound boneless pork
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 tablespoon sugar
1 medium onion, diced
1 medium red-skinned potato, peeled and diced
1 baby bok choy, julienned, or 5 leaves from Napa cabbage, julienned
olive oil
For the sauce:
1/2 cup black bean paste
1 cup water
2 teaspoons sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch

Directions:
Mix 1 tablespoon each of salt and sugar in a small bowl. Rub it all over the pork. Let it marinate in the refrigerator. Then start cutting all your vegetables. Measure out your black bean paste, water, sugar and cornstarch for the sauce.

Heat a pan on medium high. Take the pork out of the refrigerator. Pat it dry with a paper towel and cut into cubes. Add oil to the hot pan. Then cook the pork cubes. Set aside.

Bring a pot of water to boil. Cook diced potatoes until soft. Strain. Bring water to boil again. Add more water if necessary. Add noodles. Cook until tender. Drain and set aside.

Saute the onion and bok choy. Add the cooked potatoes.

Mix the black bean paste with the vegetables. Add water and two teaspoons of sugar and bring sauce to a boil. Then add the cornstarch. Add the pork back in. Serve sauce over noodles.

Print recipe

Some notes:
I decided to use baby bok choy because I didn't want to buy a whole Napa cabbage.


I bought frozen homemade Korean noodles.


I mixed equal parts sugar and kosher salt to rub on boneless pork. The rub gives the pork a lot of flavor.


I sauteed the vegetables.


Then I added the black bean paste.


I drained the noodles.


I added water and sugar and brought the sauce to a boil. Then I added the cornstarch.

Then the dish was ready.

I know I've been away...

I know I've been away for a week. I've been busy lately because of work and some extra stuff. The good news is I've been taking photos of maple syrup products for 3 Chicks Sugar Shack, which is part of Lanza Farms, of Garrison, N.Y. The company makes the Bourbon maple syrup I love so much.



I've been taking photos for Joni Lanza for her Web site. Because I'm not a professional photographer, I have chosen not to get paid monetarily. (There are so many other amateur photographers who take much better food photos than I do.) But I do get paid in maple syrup.  :)

In other news, I'm going to Korea in a week. So, expect more posts on the food.

Su-mei Yu's Thai Cornish hen stew with Lemongrass

Thai Cornish hen stew with lemongrass and chiles

This stew is exotic and full of comfort. It's filled with with two Cornish hens, lemongrass, potatoes, turnips, shallots, garlic and ginger. I really liked the stew because it was hearty. When I added rice, it soaked up the fresh taste of ginger, chiles and tumeric—that was the best part. 

The March issue of Food & Wine features the healthy Thai recipe by Su-mei Yu.

To get the recipe, click here.

Some things I changed: I added potatoes. I also omitted the dried green peppercorns because I don't have a spice grinder. I added fresh serrano peppers, instead of the dried red chiles.

Luckily, I got to make the stew before the huge snowstorm and power outage on Feb. 25.

I didn't realize how fragrant lemongrass because it was the first time I cooked with it. I love the citrus smell. 

I removed the outer leaves to get to the white tender center.


The stew has lime zest, cilantro and scallions.


The soup boiling away.

The power is back!

My electricity came back today! Woohoo!