June 2007


When one of my chefs asked me to recommend some dishes at a local Korean restaurant I couldn’t have been more thrilled. Instantly I began rambling on and on over the virtues of dolsot bi bim bap and the sweet flavor of dwaeje galbi, putting on my best Seoul accent, stressing certain syllables, letting my tongue run over complicated vowel combinations only to find my five minute gastro-monologue interrupted. “I have no idea what you just said,” my audience of one blurted out. “You are going to have to write this down.”

Korea Menu 2
You’re lucky to find menues with both pictures and photoes, but often they look like the one below
Menu in Korean

Learning to eat Korean takes time, and I’m not even getting into table manners and customs. My first foray into the world of gochujang studded delights were the cheap diners, kimbap nara, kimbap chunguk, where back lit stylized photos of dishes strengthened my confidence. But when Kevin and I started hitting the gabli joints we suddenly had to read the menus, searching out familiar words. Would we be able to get mandu (dumplings?) “Do you think they have ddokboggie?” I’d ask hopefully. Eventually the vocabulary came, if I couldn’t properly translate the prefix, I could at least recognize the suffix, generally a cooking verb.

Learning these few cooking verbs and nouns can help whether you find yourself at a Korean restaurant in Bellevue or a Kimbap nara in Masan.

Kimbap
kimbap above and dolsotbap below are both examples of rice applications in Korean cuisine
Dolsotbap

Bap: Rice. Unlike Chinese restaurants, one does not order a side of rice. Rice does accompany dishes like Kimchi stew (jjigae) and is a base in dishes like Bibimbap- mixed rice, or kimbap- rice wrapped in seaweed (kim).

pig guts 2
stirfired pig’s intestines, found near Dongdaemun Market

Bokkum: Stir-fry. Here is an easy one: Bokkumbap. Fried rice. Or in early spring when it is baby octopus season in Korea, nakjibokkum.

Galbi
Tables like these clearly indicate that you are in a grilling restaurant

Gui (Goo-y): Broiled or Grilled foods. Korean cuisine is synonymous with grilled meats and seafood. Most are marinated though some, such as many of the fish dished are grilled with a simple dash of salt, through they won’t all include the suffix gui. The names of these dishes are based on the main ingredient: Galbi, grilled short ribs.

kong guksu
two examples of cold noodles, perfect for hoe summer days

Gooksu/kuksu, myeon: Noodles. But don’t get too excited. The word noodle is about as prevalent as the word pasta in the west. These are dozens of noodles and noodle dishes in Korea and not all of them include the identifying word. The most popular noodles in Korea are made from both buckwheat (like Japanese soba noodles) and regular wheat flour. There are thick hand cut noodles and thin white somen style noodles. The only noodles that are stir fired in Korea (to my knowledge) are ramyeon (ramen), udong (udon), and the transparent sweet potato starch noodles (dangmyeon) used in chap chae. Some delicious noodle dishes include Kal guksu- hand-cut noodle soup with various veggies and kimchi. My favorite continues to be mulnaemgmyeon- cold noodles in soup with brisket, sliced pear, and a hardboiled egg.

Samgyetang
The customary soup eaten on the hottest days of summer in Korea

Gook (Kuk), Tang: Soup. Soup accompanies most all meals in Korea, from humble seaweed soup to cures for hangovers that include fresh cow’s blood. What has to be the most popular soup is Samgyetang- a young chicken stuffed with rice, dates, and ginseng. What is the difference between gook and tang? The Korean Food Guide notes that the suffix tang refers to soups that have been simmered over low heat for a long time.

Korean Tuna Sashmi
Raw slices of tuna above, and diced raw tuna on a bed of crisp raw veggies, examples of hwae
Hwaedopbap

Hwae/hoe: Raw. Hwae generally refers to raw fish, cut like sashimi, and sans the rice, but yukhwae is a raw beef dish, similar to steak tartar. One of my favorite summer dishes Hwaedapbap is chopped raw fish atop sliced veggies on rice with a spicy chili sauce. Hwae-raw fish bap-rice. Starting to get it?

gochujang
The godfather of Korean sauces

Jang: Jang translates into sauce. Korea’s infamous fiery chile paste so dear to my heart is gochujang, and then there is the mandu dipping kangjang, or soy sauce.

haemulcheongul
Haemulchongul, or seafood hotpot

Jeonkol/Chongol: Hot Pot. Darn near all the North Asian countries have some sort of one pot hot pot dish. In Japan it’s oden. One type found in Korea is dubujeonkol, or tofu hotpot, a collision of sliced tofu, ground beef, bamboo shoots, green onions and more.

kimchi jjigae
Kimchi jjigae

Jjigae: Stew: Kimchijjigae, or kimchi stew, is a bubbling cauldron of tantalizing spiced (ok, usually just chili), chock full of its star ingredient. Served rice they usually accompany larger dishes like bulbogi or galbi, but are often eaten on their own.

jangjorim 5
Jjim, jolim: Casserole, steamed or braised dishes. Kablijiim, casserole of short ribs, dates, mushrooms, carrots, and gingko nuts, is one of the top 10 must eat Korean foods.

Tuna Spread Juk
rice porriage with chinks of tuna, chamchejuk

Jook: The literal translation of this word is gruel but don’t let that put you off. Think instead of a thick porridge, made from grains steamed over low heat, peppered with everything from minced abalone to pine nuts and dates.

pan fry
Panfried vegetables above and pan fried vegetable cakes below, examples of jeon.
Jeon

Jeon/Chon: Pan fried, mostly referring to cakes, and vegetables that have been dipped in flour then coated with egg. One of the more recognizable jeons is pajeon, a green onion pancake that accompanies some meals as bancheon. During the plentiful squash season, it is common to find hobakjeon, sliced zucchini battered in egg and pan fried, on the dinner table.

mul mandu
mul, or water, mandu make for a quick lunch fix

Mandu: dumplings. Korea’s answer to pot stickers and gyoza. I’m a diehard fan of the kimchi variety. Another favorite manduguk- dumpling soup.

Namul
Namul, arranged elegantly on a serving dish. The orginal Korean hippie food?

Namool: Weeds. Ok, before you start thinking, weeds? Who eats weeds? I think of namool as herb like vegetables, smaller greens and sprouts, gently sautéed with the sometimes addition of sesame oil or soy sauce. Generally served as a side dish, some vegetarian and health conscious restaurants in Korea turn a sampler plate of rare foraged treats into a main dish.

Fried peppers
batter and deep fried stuffed peppers

Twigim: Deep Fried. For purposes of familiarity, twigam can be compared to the Japanese tempura, but the main difference is that twigam is a heavier, heartier batter than its neighbor across the sea. At any one of Korea’s ubiquitous pojangmacha, street vendors, you’ll find plates of mandutwigam (fried dumplings), or yachetwigam (deep fried vegetables) piled high ready for wandering snackers. Twigam is rarely served in restaurants in Korea with the exception of the occasional side dish, bancheon, but is finding its way on to North American Korean menus thanks to our affinity for all that is crispy.

This is just an introduction into Korean cuisine, please feel free to give your 2 cents.

After our week in the bakery my partner and I moved on to our next station, starch/veg. While looking forward to getting back into the frying pan I was apprehensive about cooking up veg side dishes. Having been a vegetarian for many years, this would appear easy, but for so long all I’ve ever done is make one pot side dishes: protein, carbs, greens, badda boom badda bing. But here I was expected to come up with vegetables that shined on their own. Easy in the middle of summer yes, when farmers markets are bursting with golden beets, fresh squash, tomatoes, or fall even with the plethora of squash, but early spring! What do I have to work with here? Tasteless bell peppers, tomatoes, some onions, and my saving grace, asparagus.

Day two and three into the week my partner fell ill and I found myself with four dishes, of 72 servings each to put out in two hours. It is the kind of stress that starts in your stomach but finds its way curling through out your fingers and toes to the point why you wonder why these extiremdies ache at 10 pm, hours after school has ended. Wednesday demanded stir fried veggies, a noodle dish, more stir-fired veggies, that all came out tasteless.

Quantity veg cooking is ALL about the timing. How do you make what you put out at 11am taste as good at 12:30? Is it possible? With the help of a first and fifth quarter my dishes were out on time, but the stress knot was still there. I knew what I made wasn’t top quality. I didn’t have control over the quality of the recipe, but my inexperience in a production kitchen had me in a pool of self-doubt. Rather than pace my cooking through the day I rushed out all the dishes at once, not observing the differenced in cooking times I dumped all my vegetables to be stirfired into the wok at once.

Most people go to culinary school because they love cooking, and because from time to time people have complimented their cooking, “hey, you are a good cook,” and, “ohmigod! This is so amazing. You should be a chef!” These affirmations are all but non-existent in culinary school. It is expected that your food should taste good. With so many chefs in training, nothing is ever good enough, rarely are everyone’s tastes satisfied. “Needs more salt, needs more pepper, what about some lemon juice, too salty, too sweet.”

The next day, faced with 20 pounds of asparagus, I and the resident queen of the school, went into a production mode of asparagus spears and goat cheese medallions wrapped in sorrano ham. Content to simply roast the spears the queen cut me short. “Do you know why people don’t like asparagus,” he challenged me. “Because when you roast, broil or grill it, it turns to shit. And were forced to eat this crap? No.” He shot at me, my mind still forming an answer to his original question. Now we would peel them, par cook them, shock them, place them on a parchment covered sheet pan in two neat columns, spears pointed the same direction, to the center, drizzle with olive oil, a hit of salt and pepper, and into the over to par-roast. Picking up a sear he snapped it into two with a clean break: the dark green ring encircling a pale creamy green center is worthy of the title food porn. “Here,” he shoved it at me. “Now isn’t this so much better?”

He was right, the asparagus tasted the way so many magazines and newspapers gush over the spring savior. After wrapping our bungles in ham the queen showed me how to drizzle a reduced balsamic syrup a la Jackson Pollock over our 2-inch half hotel pans filled with neat green, white and pink bundles. It was the loveliest thing I had put out this quarter so far and my residual feelings of insecurity from t he previous day dissipated. Classmates ohhh and awwwed. Yes it looked like something you’d find on a Wedding Menu, but it did earn me a steadfast stream of compliments