Seoul — and especially Seoul in winter — is not a very obvious vacation destination over here (Thailand is far more popular among the expats in Beijing, it seems). Even when we came back raving about the city, we frequently encountered the response: “Really? Why?” We’ve even asked ourselves that question over and over — but more in the sense of, “Why can’t all trips be this great?” :)

So let me try to break it down here…

First: For starters, Beijing is not really close to any major cities. If you’re visiting Beijing and trying to figure out where else you can go nearby, it’s not an easy task (I’ve tried myself a number of times). But then, there’s Seoul. An hour and a half by plane, and you’re in another country. It’s even closer than Shanghai. When you have small children, the short flight definitely makes a difference. Plus, being in the same region as Beijing means that it doesn’t take many air mileage points to get there. (Actual ticket prices, though, are about the same as going to other parts of Asia.)

Second: It is civilized! By which I mean it’s clean and orderly, people are polite, the food and water aren’t going to kill you, and the internet’s not censored. It’s all relative, of course. Before our trip, some of my Korean American friends warned me about the suspect street food and the lack of diaper-changing tables anywhere… But arriving from Beijing, I was all too delighted to be greeted by this pristine-looking airport. And the trip just got better from there… I would put Seoul up there with Singapore and Hong Kong (I haven’t been to Tokyo) in terms of being an orderly, modern Asian city.

Third: It’s incredibly easy to get around. One of the main things that made this trip great was how independent we felt. The subway goes everywhere (and is clean and not mobbed by people — again, all relative, coming from Beijing). It made me realize how important transportation is in allowing you the freedom to truly wander and explore. Not a lot of English is spoken, but a surprising number of people knew Mandarin (both Chinese workers and local Koreans). And everyone we encountered was super friendly — on a couple occasions strangers on the street would stop for something like 15 minutes just trying to help us find things. One person even started making phone calls to ask around for us.

Fourth and most important of all: You don’t have to put forth much effort to eat well in this city. Not only is everything delicious, but I think the people here are almost obsessed with the quality of all of their goods — from food to beauty products to clothing. Visit a market, and you’ll find gourmet red pepper powder, gourmet seaweed, gourmet dried anchovies, gourmet Spam gift sets… And here is where we get to possibly the only downside to Seoul — stuff is expensive. But on the other hand, I don’t think we ate anything in Seoul that was not fresh and beautiful. I’m almost inclined to think that cheap, bad quality stuff just doesn’t exist here. And I didn’t miss it.

For this trip, we really wanted to try foods that we’d never had before, so that’s what we focused on. Even though I had a lot of good Korean food at my disposal when we lived in the DC area, I didn’t really venture much beyond barbeque, and my few favorites, soondubu (spicy soft tofu stew) and japchae (sweet potato noodles). Before our trip, I contacted a few of my Korean American friends for some tips, and they did not steer me wrong. One of them introduced me to the Kimchi Chronicles TV series, which I devoured (thanks, Judy!). So, here I give you what we ate in Seoul.

Street Food at Gwangjang Market
Our first meal in Seoul was at the incredible Gwangjang Market. We also visited Namdaemun and Dongdaemun markets, but this one is definitely the most impressive in terms of food. We spent a good amount of time just wandering through the alleys filled with street food vendors, market stalls, and small shops. There are often whole sections of the market devoted to just one food item, like gimbab alley or jeon alley. Here is a fun and helpful guide to the market, with a map as well as introduction to each of the most popular food items there.

clockwise: blood sausages, scallion pancakes, various types of jeon (Korean pancakes), cured crab and roe.

I definitely knew I wanted to try bindaetteok, the mung bean pancake. At Gwangjang, the mung beans are freshly ground and mixed into a batter. This was not as mung beany as I expected / hoped, but still good.

We also had tteokbokki, spicy rice cakes, which were plump and chewy.

What I knew I really wanted to try yukhoe, or Korean steak tartare. At Gwangjang Market, there’s actually a yukhoe alley filled with little eateries specializing in this dish. It might sound a little scary eating raw meat at a market, but these were actually small restaurants tucked in a narrow alley within the market. I thought they seemed quite clean, and they were certainly very popular (though use your own good judgment, of course).

The yukhoe actually turned out to be one of my favorite dishes. The tender steak is cut into thin strips and set over julienned Asian pear, then topped with soy sauce, sesame oil, sesame seeds, and a raw egg yolk. The Asian pear added a touch of sweetness and a slight crunch. I loved it.

Yukhoe is also often served alongside raw liver and raw tripe. I like liver, so I thought this raw liver was actually not bad — a bit more chewy but without the dryness of cooked liver. We dipped it in the sesame oil and salt on the side. The raw tripe was mostly chewy and didn’t taste much different from cooked tripe.

Gwangjang Market [map]
Metro: line 1, Jongno 5-ga station, exit 8
(To get to Yukhoe Alley, get out at exit 10 and go down the narrow alley between the two pharmacies. You can find a more detailed map at the bottom of this post.)

Hoe at Noryangjin Fish Market
The next morning we got up and went out to Noryangjin Fish Market for some sashimi. This was a really fun visit, and I will share more details and photos in a separate post coming up.

Budaejjigae (Army Base Stew)
Remember this dish? Spicy kimchi stew with Spam and Korean ramen? (You can read more about my investigation into its history here.) We actually tried it at two different places for comparison. The first was at Gwanghwamun Budaejjigae in Seoul proper. This was our first encounter with budaejjigae, and we were so content we were practically melting into the floor. This is homey comfort food at its finest. And a perfect cold November day in Seoul is sitting on the floor in front of this bubbling pot of delights, pulling strands of ramen into your bowl, and nibbling on slices of Spam that have soaked up all the flavors of the broth.

As satisfying as that first taste of budaejjigae was, I’m glad that came first, because our second experience really made this dish more than a guilty pleasure for me and turned it into a culinary creation well worth the devotion it gets in Korea. For this, we trekked out to Uijeongbu, a town just on the outskirts of Seoul, to visit Odeng Shikdang, the restaurant owned by the creator of this dish. I have to say that Odeng Shikdang’s version was outstanding. The broth just has a deep richness that makes it stand out above the rest. If you’re a serious eater, it’s worth the trek out to Uijeongbu, but if that’s too out of the way, Gwanghwamun’s was also excellent, and there are places throughout Seoul that serve different versions of the dish, some with baked beans, some with a slice of American cheese, some with bacon.

Gwanghwamun Budaejjigae [map]
Phone: 02-195-4030
Metro: Gwanghwamun station, exit 1 (then walk north)
This is in a small underground shopping complex. The entrance is at the corner across from the central government complex annex. Once underground, the restaurant is located across from a dentist’s office and Hold Me Coffee. The restaurant name is in Korean only, but you can look for the words for “budaejjigae” (부대찌개).

Odeng Shikdang [map]
220-58 Uijeongbu-dong, Uijeongbu city, South Korea
Phone: 31-842-0423
Metro: From Seoul, take the line 1 subway to Hoeryong and transfer to the Uijeongbu LRT (the LRT line may not be on Seoul metro maps). On the LRT, get off at Uijeongbu Jungang and go out exit 2, which takes you right to Budaejjigae Street (it’s right under the bridge you come out on). Alternatively, you can take the line 1 subway from Seoul straight to the Uijeongbu stop, but then you’ll have to walk a bit north to get to Budaejjigae Street.

Fried Chicken
I would love to return to Seoul and just do an all fried chicken trip. We still managed to do pretty well on this trip, and that’s all because of Hanchu. This place serves some of the crispiest and most flavorful fried chicken I’ve had. There are also bits of green chili pepper folded into the batter that makes it unique (without being that spicy). Hanchu also serves the green peppers stuffed with a ground pork filling and fried in a light batter. I couldn’t decide if I liked the peppers or the chicken more!

We had a little bit of trouble finding this place and ended up walking around in the rain for a bit. So when we sat down for our first bite, my husband asked, “This is good, but is it worth-walking-around-in-the-rain-for-half-an-hour kind of good?” I answered with a hesitant “yeee…s” at the time. But almost right after all that fried chicken was gone, we decided for the remainder of the trip that it was most definitely a worth-walking-around-in-the-rain-for-half-an-hour kind of good. Seoul Food calls it “The best fried chicken in Seoul. Hands down.” If only I had some now…

HanChu (한추) [map]
549-9 Sinsa-dong, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
Metro: between Sinsa station and Apgujung station on line 3

The second place specialized in garlic chicken or maneul chicken. This was at Maneul Chicken Alley out by the Daelim station, where there are a number of chicken restaurants in a row. I do like garlic, but I have to confess I didn’t really get into this dish. The garlic sauce made the chicken more soggy than crispy, and it was a bit overpowering for me. But this does seem to be a popular Korean dish, so you may want to try and see for yourself. There are several other fried chicken places right next door, so if this one doesn’t do it for you, you can try one of the others.

Wonjo Daelim Maneul Tongdak (원조대림마늘통닭) [map]
73-10 Jinseong Bldg. Guro 4(sa)-dong, Guro-gu
Phone: 02-862-9233
Metro: Daelim station, line 2, exit 4
(See this post for a map and guide to the four fried chicken restaurants on this street.)

Korean BBQ
We had Korean BBQ twice in Seoul. The first time was with some friends, and unfortunately I neglected to get the name or details of the place they brought us to. The highlight of this place, though, was the incredible spread of veggies they give you to wrap your meat with. (Sorry, I didn’t get a good picture, but notice the long trays of leafy greens on both sides of the table!) The Vietnamese wrap lover in me could not have been happier. There were fresh leafy greens of all sorts, many of which I didn’t even recognize, as well as paper-thin slices of radishes large enough to also use as wraps. And it was all crisp, vibrant, and gorgeous — just like practically all the food we ate in Seoul. Also on the tray were steamed veggies for wrapping, which not many places serve. Among those I recognized were sheets of thick green seaweed, lotus leaves, and napa cabbage leaves. We ate this with grilled meats — if I’m not mistaken, I think we had chadolbaegi (thinly sliced brisket) and samgyeopsal (pork belly). Periodically, a waitress would come and clean the grill down with a plastic spray bottle that she told us contained soju. :)

Our other BBQ was at Ouga, which is actually known for its bamboo rice. The rice is steamed inside the bamboo stalk, which lends a subtle fragrance to the grains.

As usual, the various lettuce leaves they give you to wrap the meats with were pristine.

This was had with grilled pork and galbi (beef short rib) cut in the traditional Korean way, where the meat is sliced into a long thin layer coming off the bone (this is known as Wang Galbi, as opposed to LA Galbi where the meat is cut across the bone). Koreans take a lot of pride in their meat, and especially their beef. We didn’t have any of the prized traditional Korean beef this trip, but if you are a true meat lover you may not want to miss that (see recommendations here).

Since we had not yet tried nnangmyeon, we also ordered some here. It’s actually a Northern Korean dish of cold noodles served in a slightly tart broth with egg and sliced cucumbers. The noodles are made from various starches, sometimes including buckwheat, arrowroot, sweet potatoes, and kudzu, and they are both delicate and satisfyingly chewy. Along with the cool broth, it’s a very refreshing dish.

Ganjang Gejang (soy-cured crab)
One of the things I most looked forward to trying in Seoul was ganjang gejang. This is raw crab that has been cured in soy sauce. It’s sold at the markets, so we thought we’d just buy one to try. That turned out fine but rather salty, and it’s really something that should be eaten as a meal with rice and accompaniments. So on our last night in Seoul, we went to Keun Giwa Jip, where we had a much better version that was more subtle. The crab was both sweet and salty, and after being cured it had this soft, fleshy texture (similar to raw shrimp). At the end, you mix rice into the shell to sop up all the rich, gooey roe and tomalley.

This is one of the more expensive dishes in Seoul, but it must be tried. You also have to keep in mind that oftentimes when you order a main dish in Korea, you’re really ordering a whole meal. So while it will look like you’re paying something like $35 for one little crab, you actually end up with a whole table full of ban chan (small pickled dishes) and bubbling stews. We went to Keun Giwa Jip just because it was right by where we were staying, but another very popular place is the ganjang gejang alley in Sinsa-dong.

At Keun Giwa Jip, we also got an order of galbi jjim, or braised short ribs, which is marinated in soy sauce, garlic, sugar, and other ingredients, and is then slowly cooked to a sweet-savory, melt-in-your-mouth doneness.

Manjoo Hana
I have to throw this in here because it just gave my husband and me so much joy on our trip. At many of the subway stations, including ours, there’s a Manjoo Hana stand making fresh waffle cakes with a creamy pudding-like center. The sweet, eggy aroma fills the subway tunnels from many meters away. It’s like some happy drug they pump into the air to make everyone smile through the cold Korean winter. Just thinking about it right now puts me in a blissful trance. We got a bag of these every day. :)

Although we had less than 5 days in Seoul, we consider it one of our favorite trips of all time and are looking for every excuse to go back. We really did nothing but eat here, and then in the evenings, we’d head back early to the guesthouse, put our little guy to bed, and curl up in the dark and watch movies on our laptop. Every vacation should be so good. :)

Resources:
Seoul Food Tour with Hachi - This site is the answer to all your Seoul street food needs. There are 20 installments, each devoted to a particular Korean food, where to find it, and detailed instructions (including the cutest hand-drawn maps!) on how to get there.
Kimchi Chronicles: This television series is a fast-paced travelogue and cooking show featuring an eclectic mix of characters: the main host is Marja, wife of chef Jean-Georges, and now and then Hugh Jackman makes an appearance too. Available on Hulu.
A la mode journals - The blog of food and travel photographer Rick Poon.

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My friends and I took a hike through some of the towns and rainforest areas of Grenada last week. We brought along two local friends whom we met from our frequent trips downtown to the Spice Market to be our guides. We hopped on a local bus, and because of some miscommunication, ended up walking a great deal more than we had signed up for. A word of advice: never believe a Grenadian when he tells you there’s only one more hill to climb. He really means one hill before the the next hill…before the one after that. And then five more.

Fortunately, aching limbs and tired bodies weren’t the only things we got out of the hike though. Because we ended up walking to the rainforest (instead of riding the bus), we had the chance to see life in Grenada through the eyes of a local. Grenada is such a small island, our guides knew practically every person we met along the way! As we walked, I soon realized that walking through Grenada is very much like taking a stroll through a fruit garden.

We passed by banana plantations and also saw several banana trees up close.

We saw papaya trees heavy with fruit that were getting ripe for picking.

We also saw many goats like this one that probably provides milk for a family, and we saw a man tending a callaloo garden (callaloo is used much like spinach here!).

I tasted a cashew fruit for the very first time and was surprised to find that it was sweet, juicy, and delicious!

We passed by lemongrass and picked a few leaves to smell the fragrance.

And of course, what’s a trip to the rainforest without seeing monkeys?! On the right is a wandering fish market that sells fish from the back of a pick-up truck.

We also saw plenty of cocoa trees along the way. This is a cocoa pod filled with cocoa beans. The sweet pulp can be sucked off, and then the beans are fermented and dried in the sun to make chocolate.

A cabbage garden in front of a local Grenadian house.

And aside from bananas, mangoes are the most plentiful fruit here in Grenada! You’ll find mango trees in backyards, on the side of the roads, in the rainforest…everywhere.

So what to do with all those mangoes? Make mango ice cream! The following recipe uses mango as the main fruit, but it could easily be substituted for your favorite tropical fruit — soursop, durian, jackfruit. Anything that turns creamy and soft would be perfect for this recipe.

Mango Ice Cream
Yield: 1.5 quarts

Ingredients:
4-5 mangoes (about 4 cups of pulp)
1 1/2 c. heavy cream
1 1/4 c. whole milk
3/4 can condensed milk
juice from 2 small limes

1. Peel the mangoes and puree the pulp into a smooth consistency. Remove any strands of fiber that you might see.

2. Stir in the heavy cream, milk, and condensed milk into the mango puree.

3. Squeeze in the juice of 2 limes. Mix thoroughly.

4. Pour into an ice cream maker and follow directions or follow David Lebovitz’s method for making ice cream without a machine. The condensed milk, heavy cream, and whole milk really help to prevent the mixture from turning icy or freezing rock solid. You can also pour the mixture into popsicle molds to make creamy mango-sicles!

The post A Hike Through the Rainforest + Mango Ice Cream appeared first on meat loves salt.

Thanks, everybody, for all your comments and for all the facebook love! It’s been fun celebrating my favorite noodle soup with you this week, and I’m so glad many of you joined in the conversation. Like we promised, we’ve picked two winners for our giveaway — congratulations to Elise Gooi and Andre Bighorse! We’ll be in contact with you soon. :)

The post Pho Art Print Giveaway – Winners! appeared first on meat loves salt.

Stock bones. Look for marrow and knuckle bones cut from beef leg bones. The marrow contains fat for flavor (don’t worry, it can be skimmed off at the end). And knuckle bones in particular have plenty of cartilage, which creates a rich, gelatinous broth — and is good for you! These days, traditional bone broth is being touted as a superfood because it contains lots of minerals, collagen, and amino acids.

Stew meat. When it comes to pho, my parents stress that you need both bones and meat for best flavor. The fat from the marrow bones gives the stock richness, but the meat lends sweetness to round out the flavor. Since that piece of meat will sacrifice all its flavor to the broth, you’ll want to get the cheapest cut of meat you can find. We often use chuck. At the end of the simmering time, that piece of chuck will be flavorless and is not usually served with the pho. It can be discarded or reserved for some other use. I know that shredded leftover stock meat, dipped in a simple soy sauce with freshly ground pepper, is a nostalgic snack in many Asian homes where soup-making is a regular affair.

Serving meats. If, in addition to rare slices of eye of round sirloin, you plan to serve the pho with other cuts of beef (flank, brisket, etc.), those can also simmer in the stock, but only for a few hours, or until they become tender but still retain their flavor. One of the reasons restaurant pho stock is so flavorful is because they serve a wide variety of beef cuts that simmer in the pot throughout the day. For a special treat, I like to use oxtail, which has bones, marrow, fat, and meat — and many believe it contributes the best flavor out of any of the cuts. If you opt to roast bones for the broth (discussed below), you might also consider getting some extra marrow bones to roast and serve at the table.

Parboiling versus roasting. Traditionally, making pho involves first parboiling the bones in order to get rid of all the scum and impurities, which yields a clearer and cleaner-tasting stock. But in recent years, my parents have taken to also roasting the bones for further depth of flavor. Since they told me this, I’ve also found mention of using roasted bones for pho here and there on the internet. So I decided to do a little experiment to see for myself what the difference is between these methods.

In an epic afternoon of stock-making, I put three pots on the stove: one of parboiled bones, one of roasted bones, and one of bones that had been parboiled and then roasted. This last method of both parboiling and then roasting is actually what my parents do. Unfortunately, this last option did not quite work out in my experiment because I ran out of both large enough pots and small enough burners to maintain a low simmer, so I ended up with an aggressive boil that turned that stock cloudy white. But I did get to compare a stock of only parboiled bones with a stock of only roasted bones.

The verdict? It’s a matter of preference, but I found I liked the traditional parboiled bone broth at the longer length of time best. I preferred its cleaner, lighter, more nuanced flavor. And the longer length of simmering time definitely made a difference with the parboiled bones. By contrast, the roasted bone broth was richer and more robust without needing a long simmering time, which would be great if you want to cut down on cooking time while still getting lots of flavor.

Clarity. The key to a clear stock is to keep the liquid at just the barest of simmers. You only want to see a little bubble every now and then, if not just a shimmer. My parents swear by leaving the pot uncovered, which helps regulate the temperature in order to keep the liquid at the lowest simmer possible. I have yet to try making pho in a slow cooker, mainly because I haven’t had one large enough to contain all the bones and stock components, but the idea makes sense. I like the sound of Wandering Chopstick’s slow cooker method using oxtail, which is a cut of beef that offers a lot of flavor in a small package. Chicken pho may also be quite doable in a slow cooker.

In addition to maintaining a very low simmer, you also want to leave the pot undisturbed. Don’t stir or rummage through to look for things. Keep any meat that will be taken out after a few hours at the top of the pot, so that you don’t have to dig for them. It’s also best to put the onion, ginger, and garlic in cheesecloth or a fine mesh bag, as these will begin to disintegrate and cloud the broth after cooking for a long time. If you don’t have any cheese cloth, keep the onion and garlic at the top of the pot and, and if they start to look like they’re disintegrating after hours of simmering, go ahead and take them out.

Simmer time. My parents simmer their beef stock for 8 hours or more. They usually do it overnight, getting up a couple times to check on it. I have to admit that I have never had the stamina to make it much past 6 or 7 hours (I make it during the day and let it cool overnight). There is a marked difference in how long the pho broth simmers. The color deepens, the flavor develops more intensity and fullness, and the texture changes. A broth that has simmered longer becomes very gelatinous when cooled, filled with collagen and minerals. The amount of gelatin also contributes to texture and mouthfeel — there’s a rich stickiness and viscosity that coats your mouth in a long-simmered broth. And in terms of nutritional value, this article states that beef bone broth should be simmered at least 12 hours and up to 72 hours! That may not be needed for flavor, but I have heard of pho restaurants that never turn off the heat on their broth — they just continue adding more ingredients to that master stock day after day.

Charred aromatics. Do not skip this step! Traditional pho stock requires charred onion and ginger. In Vietnam, these are charred on a charcoal grill, and in Vietnamese American homes this has commonly translated to holding the aromatics over an open flame with a pair of tongs or setting the aromatics directly on an electric burner. This is how I do it, because that’s how my parents have always done it. If you have a broiler, that is a good (and probably safer) alternative. My parents also like to char a whole head of garlic cut in half to include in the broth.

Spices. Traditionally, star anise, cloves, and cinnamon are the three key spices used in flavoring pho broth. There are recipes that also use coriander seeds, black cardamom pods, and even fennel seeds. My dad also adds black peppercorn. If you have any of these, feel free to add them. For simplicity, I usually just stick with star anise, cloves, and cinnamon, which I think are the core spices contributing to that recognizable pho flavor. These spices should first be toasted briefly in a dry pan to release their aroma.

Seasoning. Yellow rock sugar lends a nice, round sweetness to the broth, whereas regular granulated sugar will be harsher and more aggressive. I put the rock sugar in at the beginning so that it has a chance to melt and permeate the broth. But I suggest not seasoning with salt or fish sauce until the very end because you don’t have a good idea of how much the stock will reduce during the cooking time.

Noodles. Fresh noodles have a bite that dried noodles just don’t, so get fresh banh pho noodles if you can (available at Asian grocers).  If using dried noodles, look for a Thai or Vietnamese brand and get the thinnest you can find. I find that soaking the dried noodles in hot water beforehand helps them to cook more evenly. After soaking, they cook very quickly (about 20 seconds) in boiling water and will be able to retain some bite while still being cooked through.

Freezing. Whenever I make pho I always freeze some of the broth for another day. The cooked meat and fresh noodles can also be frozen (freeze the noodles fresh just as they are, before cooking). Of course, dried noodles are easy to keep on hand. You can have some store-bought beef balls ready in the freezer as a quick addition (these are already cooked when you buy them). This way,  you can still enjoy a hot steaming bowl of homemade pho with very little effort.

Shortcut pho. On days when I do not have any premade broth, I’ll put together a very simple pho just by opening up a can of beef broth, tossing in a star anise and a couple cloves, a slice of ginger and a chunk of onion (I don’t even char them in this version), and letting all that simmer for a few minutes before throwing in a bundle of quick-cooking bean-thread noodles. I season with a bit of sugar and fish sauce at the end, and then add in a couple beef balls from the freezer and maybe some leafy greens to balance out the meal.

Now, without further ado — the recipe!

Pho Bo (Vietnamese Beef Noodle Soup)
Serves 6–8

For the broth:
5 lbs beef marrow bones and knuckle bones
1 lb beef chuck
1 lb combination of any other beef cuts you enjoy eating with pho: for example, flank, brisket, oxtail, book tripe (not honeycomb tripe), tendon, beef balls (these are optional — you can also just serve pho with rare slices of eye of round or sirloin, listed below)
2 medium yellow onions
3-inch piece of ginger, cut lengthwise, lightly bruised
1 head of garlic, loose dried skin removed, cut crosswise through the middle of the entire bulb to expose the cloves inside
5 star anise
10 cloves
1 cinnamon stick, about 3 inches long
1 oz. yellow rock sugar (roughly a 2-inch cube)
5 quarts water, or enough to cover all the ingredients
1 Tbsp kosher salt (less if using regular table salt)
4 Tbsp and 2 tsp fish sauce, added incrementally to taste

To serve:
1.5 lbs thin flat rice noodles (banh pho), fresh if possible or dried if not
1/2 lb eye of round or sirloin (increase to 1 lb if this is the only cut of beef you’ll be serving with the noodles)
1/2 yellow onion, sliced paper thin
3 scallions, thinly sliced
1 small bunch cilantro, chopped

Herb plate:
2 cups bean sprouts
1 bunch Thai basil
1 bunch culantro (also known as sawtooth herb or Vietnamese coriander)
Thai bird chilies
1 lime, cut into wedges

Condiments:
Sriracha sauce
hoisin sauce

Directions

1. PARBOIL: Put all of the bones into a stockpot of 10- to 12-quart capacity. Fill the pot with enough water to just cover all the bones, leaving at least 1 inch at the top to allow room for boiling. Heat the pot on high until the water boils and let it continue to boil aggressively for 5 minutes so that all the scum and impurities can be released and skimmed off. When it looks like no more scum is being released, turn off the heat. Pour the contents of the pot into a colander or directly into a clean sink that is lined with a strainer to catch solids. Rinse the bones until they are clean of blood, scum, and impurities. Be careful not to lose any marrow in the process.

[ROAST (optional step): Parboiling the bones is sufficient for a clean, pure, traditional pho broth (which I actually prefer). But for an interesting twist that will yield a beef broth with deeper flavor in a shorter amount of time, roasting can be undertaken either instead of parboiling or even in addition to parboiling. First, rinse the bones of any loose bits and then set them in a roasting pan or a sheet pan with a lip to catch the fat that will be released. The marrow bones should face up so that the marrow remains intact. Roast on 400°F for about 45 minutes, turning halfway through. The bones should turn a golden brown color. If this doesn't happen, turn on the broiler for a few minutes at the end to allow the bones to brown, watching carefully to make sure they don't burn. If they brown too quickly, turn down the heat a bit.]

2. CHAR the onion, ginger, and garlic either by holding them with metal tongs over an open flame or setting them directly on an electric burner. Alternatively, you can put them under a broiler. Remove once they take on some color and char, but before they become burned. Put the charred onion, ginger, and garlic into a fine mesh bag or in some cheesecloth that can be tied with string. If you do not have either of these, make sure the onion and garlic are at the very top of the stockpot during simmering time so that you can remove them if they begin to disintegrate into the stock.

3. TOAST: In a small dry pan, toast the star anise, cloves, and cinnamon on low heat for a few minutes, or until they begin to release their aroma. Add the toasted spices into the fine mesh bag or cheesecloth and tie shut with string. You can also use a tea strainer ball.

4. SIMMER: Put the parboiled and/or roasted bones into a clean stockpot. (If using the same stockpot as in Step 1, be sure to clean it well before returning the bones to the pot or else the remaining bits will cloud the stock.) Add the chuck for flavor and any flank, brisket, oxtail, or tendon you plan to serve (see below for instructions for tripe and beef balls). Add the charred onion, ginger, garlic, toasted spices, and the rock sugar. Fill the pot with 5 quarts of water, or until all the ingredients are covered. Turn the heat on high, but keep a close eye on the pot to prevent the water from reaching a full boil. Just before the water reaches boiling (small bubbles will begin to rise), turn the heat to the lowest setting to maintain a very low simmer. If you’re not already using the smallest burner on your stovetop, then move the pot there now to keep the heat at a minimum. You want as little movement in the water as possible. Keep the broth at a very low simmer for 6-8 hours, skimming regularly for any scum and impurities that rise to the surface. If you are not using a mesh bag or cheesecloth to hold the onion and garlic, check to make sure that they don’t start to disintegrate and cloud the stock after several hours — if so, go ahead and remove them.

5. PREPARE MEATS: For the eye of round or sirloin, which will be served rare, put the whole raw piece of meat in the freezer for about 30 minutes to let it harden a bit. This makes it easier to slice thinly. Then take the meat out and slice across the grain as thinly as possible. Refrigerate the sliced meat until the pho is ready to serve. If cooking flank, brisket, or oxtail, check the doneness of these meats after 2-3 hours of simmering in the stock (depending on how larget the pieces of oxtail, that cut may take longer). When tender, take these meats out (but make sure to leave the chuck in) and let them rest for at least 15 minutes. Slice the flank and brisket across the grain. Leave small pieces of oxtail as is or, if large, they can also be roughly shred with a fork. Let the meat cool, then refrigerate until ready to serve. Tendon will take longer to cook — about 4 hours or up to 6, depending on how soft you like your tendon (pho restaurants serve it slightly crunchy, which it will be after about 4 hours, but my family likes it more soft and gelatinous, which takes a few hours more). Remove the tendon when cooked to the desired doneness. If slightly crunchy, serve it thinly sliced crosswise. If soft and gelatinous, cut into 1- to 2-inch chunks. Book tripe and beef balls should already by cooked or par-cooked when you purchase them. Wash the tripe and slice into strips, so that each piece has a set of fringes attached. The beef balls can be sliced in half or quarters if preferred. Wait until just before serving to add the tripe and beef balls to the broth in order to heat them through. The tripe should be crunchy — be careful not to overcook or it will become too chewy.

6. STRAIN: After the stock has simmered 6-8 hours, remove all of the stock ingredients (bones, meat, aromatics, and spices). The beef chuck can be discarded or reserved for another use. Strain the broth through a fine-mesh sieve lined with cheesecloth and return to pot.

7. SEASON:  Season the broth with salt and fish sauce, starting in small increments and tasting as you go. The broth should end up on the saltier side and will balance out when served with the noodles and other ingredients. I usually end up with about 4 quarts of broth after simmering and find that the listed amount of salt and fish sauce is about what’s needed for my tastes. But every pot of broth turns out differently depending on many factors, and you may end up with more or less liquid after simmering, so season incrementally and according to your tastes. You can also add more sugar if you like your pho on the sweeter side.

8. SKIM: After seasoning, the broth can be either served right away or allowed to cool at room temperature. If serving right away, the fat can be skimmed off with a spoon or skimmer or by using a fat separator (though a little bit of fat lends flavor!). If serving later, store the cooled broth in the fridge to let the fat solidify, after which it can be lifted off and discarded.

9. NOODLES: Always cook the noodles in a separate pot of water, never in the stock itself. If cooking the noodles beforehand (that is, before your broth is ready), always undercook them slightly since they will need to be reheated before serving. If using dried noodles, first soak them in hot water for 30 minutes. Then, add the soaked noodles to a pot of boiling water and cook for about 20 seconds. Drain and rinse under cold water. If using fresh noodles, loosen them first under cold water before adding them into a pot of boiling water. Cook for about 20 seconds or until just al dente. Drain and rinse under cold water. To reheat just before serving, place individual portions of noodles in a sieve and submerge the sieve into boiling water for a few seconds, just until the noodles come loose.

10. ASSEMBLE: When ready to serve, distribute the cooked noodles among individual bowls. Lay thin slices of raw sirloin or eye of round on top of the noodles. Reheat any meats previously removed from the stock (from step 5) by putting them in a fine-mesh sieve and submerging this into the hot broth. Arrange these other meats on top of the cooked noodles. If serving any roasted marrow bones, add to the bowl or serve it on the side with some extra broth. Top the bowl off with paper-thin slices of onion and a sprinkling of chopped scallions and cilantro. Assemble each bowl in the same way.

11. SERVE: Bring the broth up to a very gentle simmer. Ladle the hot broth over the contents of each bowl. I like to be generous with the broth, so that all the ingredients are submerged and the scallions and cilantro are floating in liquid. The hot liquid should just cook the rare slices of beef. Serve the noodle soup with the herb plate and condiments on the side, with small dipping plates for each person.

We asked you to share what’s in your pho earlier this week. Now you know exactly what’s in ours! When we eat out, I (Julie) normally get a pho dac biet (combination special, which includes all the cuts). I add all the garnishes — bean sprouts, Thai basil, culantro, fresh chili peppers (jalapeno in the US), and lime. Becca gets pho tai gau (rare beef and fatty brisket), with the rare beef on the side to add herself (you only get this option at the hard-core pho places, like in California!). She also puts in a special request for no scallions or cilantro, which may or may not get fulfilled. She adds just basil and lots of lime. Most important of all for both of us, we squirt Sriracha and hoisin sauce always onto a dipping plate (or another soup spoon if no dipping plates are available). We never add this straight into our bowl because we believe it masks all the nuanced flavors of a good pho broth. And, lastly, I like to eat my pho by creating little “pho bundles” in my soup spoon and then dunking it into the broth. This way, I get a bit of everything in one bite, including the flavorful broth. If you’re slurp-averse, this also has the benefit of allowing you to eat pho in polite company. But, really, I just do this to get broth in every bite. :)

 This little guy approves!

Some other great pho recipes online:

- Epicurious recipe by Mai Pham, author of Pleasures of the Vietnamese Table. I find this one to be closest to the way my family makes pho.
- Viet World Kitchen’s recipe by Andrea Nguyen, author of Into the Vietnamese Kitchen and authority on Vietnamese cuisine. Andrea also has delved into the controversial history of pho and has a great set of tips on how to make it at home.
- Gastronomy’s family recipe. I love the story of how her grandma makes it.
- Wandering Chopsticks’ recipes for pho bo and slow cooker oxtail pho, which I am eager to try soon.

The post Dad’s Pho Bo (Vietnamese Beef Noodle Soup) appeared first on meat loves salt.

If you haven’t visited our site in a while, you’ll find that things look a little different around here! We’ve updated our banner, added some new travel pages for Beijing and Grenada, and included a recipe index too. You can subscribe to the blog by email or RSS feed, or connect to us through our new Facebook page. When you “like” the Facebook page, you can also sign up to get notifications so you don’t miss any new posts — including a family pho recipe we’ll be sharing later this week!

As you might know, Becca is a designer by trade and owner of Lavender’s Blue Designs. Not only is she the one who created our new blog design, she’s also the talent behind the cute foodie Valentines back in February and, of course, Elijah’s first birthday party. And now, to go along with our site’s new look, she’s created a set of art prints featuring a beloved food of ours — pho!

To celebrate the site’s new look, we will be selecting TWO winners to each receive an 8″x10″ art print of his/her choice! You can enter the giveaway any time between now and next Tuesday. The giveaway will close in one week, at 11:59 p.m. EST, on Tuesday, April 30, 2013.

The prize is open to anyone worldwide. All you have to do to enter is leave a comment below telling us what’s in your pho.

See additional details below:

In addition to the giveaway, these prints are also available for purchase in the Lavender’s Blue Etsy shop. From now until May 15th, Becca is offering free shipping within the United States.*

Each print is available in two sizes in the shop:
8″x10 – $22
11″x14″ – $32

These are high-quality giclee art prints, printed on super-smooth, coated 100% post-consumer recycled paper featuring a few natural surface imperfections. Process chlorine free (PCF). 170 gsm/ 62 lb.

*Please note that the giveaway is open to readers worldwide. For the time being, however, art prints purchased through the Etsy shop can only be shipped to a U.S. address. As you might know, both my sister and I currently live abroad, so being able to offer international shipping is important to us. Right now, Lavender’s Blue works with a wonderful printer to fulfill US orders, and we are currently looking for a similarly reliable printer who can ship worldwide. We hope to have this option available soon for all our international readers. For the giveaway only, we will personally ship the art prints to two winners anywhere in the world.

Be sure to check back later this week when we’ll be sharing our family pho recipe! We’ll also tell you what’s in our pho. :)

*Edit: The giveaway is now closed. Thanks for your comments and entries! Winners will be announced soon.

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I have to confess that I ate my very first bowl of jjajangmyeon (자장면) in Grenada. My Korean friend Terry (remember, she’s the one who likes to make things like tofu, miso, and kimchi from scratch!) invited me over for lunch one day and to my surprise and delight, she presented me with an overflowing bowl of noodles covered in sweet black bean sauce. And of course, there was a side of danmuji (yellow, pickled radish) to go along with it too.

Jjajangmyeon is originally a Chinese noodle dish (zhajiangmian 炸酱面) with regional variations in China. The most widely known is probably the Beijing version, which is made with a salty yellow soybean paste called huangdoujiang or simply huangjiang. In other areas of China, it is also made with doubanjiang (a fermented broad bean sauce common in Sichuan), hoisin sauce, or a sweet bean sauce called tianmianjiang.

When Chinese immigrants first started working in Incheon, Korea, they missed the flavors of home so much that they brought bean paste with them to make Chinese zhajiangmian. The Koreans picked up on this business opportunity quickly and soon began selling their own version of the bean paste, called chunjang, which is made by combining roasted soybean paste with a caramel base. It seems to be most similar to the Chinese tianmianjiang.

I prefer the Korean version of this dish to the Chinese version because I think the sweetness balances out the bitterness of the black beans nicely. To make the Korean version, I use a Korean “Chinese black bean paste” from HMart, with caramel included in its contents. The consistency is a bit more liquid than many other types of bean pastes.

Jjajangmyeon is typically served with wheat noodles, which you can find fresh or dried at Asian grocery stores. If those aren’t available, spaghetti works fine too! The vegetables in this dish can vary based on what’s in season but usually consist of potato cubes, zucchini, and in the Korean version, onions (which add sweetness). In Grenada, I substitute with cabbage because some of the other vegetables are hard to find. Traditionally, pork belly is used because the rendered fat is what is used to “fry” the sauce, but you can also use lean pork and vegetable oil as a healthier alternative. Incidentally, this treatment of the sauce is what gives this dish its name — literally, “fried sauce noodles” in both Korean and Chinese.

Here’s Terry’s basic recipe for jjajangmyeon. The only change I made was to cut the amount of oil in half to make it a bit healthier. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Jjajangmyeon
4 servings

1/2 lb. pork belly (or lean pork)
1/2 cup sweet black bean paste (also known as chunjang in Korean and tianmianjiang in Chinese — look for caramel in the ingredients and a thin consistency)
1/4 c. fat rendered from pork belly and/or vegetable oil
2 1/2 Tbsp. sugar
2 1/2 Tbsp. oyster sauce
1 large potato
1 onion
1/3 head of cabbage (about 1 c. chopped), or substitute zucchini or daikon
2 cup chicken stock
2 Tbsp. corn starch
1/4 cup water
1 16 oz. pack of wheat or spaghetti noodles
cucumber matchsticks for garnish

1. Dice the pork belly, potatoes, onions, and cabbage (or zuchhini or daikon) into 1/2″ cubes.

2. In a large wok, fry the pork belly with 2 Tbsp. of vegetable oil until the pork is cooked and crispy.

3. Separate the pork belly and the fat/oil.

4. Add vegetable oil to the rendered pork fat until you have 1/4 cup. Put back into the wok.

5. Pour the black bean paste into the oil and fry for about 10 minutes, stirring constantly.

6. Meanwhile, start boiling water for your noodles. Prepare according to the package directions. Noodles can be a little softer than al dente for jjajangmyeon. Drain noodles when done and set aside.

7. After about 10 minutes, the sauce should look thinner and smoother. Half of the oil will still be separated from the sauce, but that’s okay. Pour out the sauce and put the excess oil back into the wok.

8. Begin stir-frying the vegetables in the wok with the oil, beginning with the potatoes. Add in the onions and cabbage (or zucchini or daikon) after about 2-3 minutes. Lastly, add in the pork.

9. Pour the fried paste into the vegetable and pork mixture, stir until coated evenly.

10. Add in the chicken stock and bring to a low simmer. Cook for about 10 minutes.

11. After 10 minutes, check to see if the potatoes are cooked. They should be just cooked through and still feel a bit firm.

12. Add in the corn starch, dissolved in water. Stir the sauce until thickened.

13. Season with additional salt and sugar as needed.

14. Serve over bed of noodles. Garnish with cucumber matchsticks. Enjoy!

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I will always remember how 2013 started — with one of the best breakfasts ever at the famous Australia Dairy Company, thanks to the recommendation of a foodie friend. As forewarned, the line was crazy, but was it ever worth it.

This place is a classic Hong Kong cha chaan teng – literally, “teahouse,” but its cultural equivalent is closer to an American diner. Like diners, these places have quick service, are open long hours (sometimes 24-hours), serve comfort foods, and just have that homey, down-to-earth atmosphere about them. They usually serve a mix of classic Cantonese foods as well as a lot of Hong Kong-style Western dishes.

Thanks to the aforementioned foodie friend, we knew just what to order here.

Macaroni soup with ham (fo tuy tong fun 火腿通粉): My dad used to make various versions of macaroni soup, so it’s something I grew up with, but I can see how it can be strange if you’ve never had macaroni this way. Think of it as Hong Kong’s version of chicken noodle soup, especially the Campbell’s kind with the strips of ham, which I think this closely resembles. (And, actually, it’s only now looking at the photos that I notice the cans of Campbell’s soup in the kitchen.) It is classic Hong Kong diner food, but I think it is skippable if you are not particularly hungry, because some of the other stuff is just not to be missed.

Scrambled eggs (chow dan 炒蛋): This may be more familiar territory, but you’d be hard-pressed to find scrambled eggs as fluffy and perfectly cooked as these anywhere else. You can get them on toast or as a sandwich. I think the open-faced version highlights the perfect eggs more.

Steamed milk (dun lai): Whatever you do, make sure steamed milk is in your order. (Steamed egg is also available, but we didn’t try it because we were more excited about the milk.) The name can be deceiving, because this is not a drink. It is more like a soft, warm yogurt or custard. The taste resembles fresh ricotta if you’ve ever made it at home — clean, fresh, subtle, with a bit of added sweetness. In Cantonese, it’s called dun lai, “steamed milk,” but in Beijing it is called nai lao or “cheese.”

Just as important as the food at the Australia Dairy Company is the atmosphere. After waiting in line for about 20 minutes, we were pointed toward a tiny table that we shared with another couple. The waiter scribbled down our order in a rush, and then, realizing we were getting everything, asked us why we didn’t just order the breakfast set. (Because we can’t read the Chinese menu… but there was no time to even be embarrassed.) When our food arrived shortly after, there was the awkward shuffle to fit everything onto our half of the tiny table, all the while trying not to knock over hot liquids or wake up our napping baby. We ate while waiters paced back and forth with orders. And when we were done, we were pointed toward the front desk to pay, and our spot was immediately cleaned. By the time we were out the door, another couple had taken our seats. It doesn’t get more authentic than this.

On our way out the door, I lingered a couple extra seconds to snap a few quick photos, panicking the whole time that someone would yell at me to get out of the way. When I stepped out the door, my husband asked me if I got some good shots, and I said, “No, I just took some quick ones ’cause I didn’t want them to yell at me.” He said, “What? You don’t have to leave until someone kicks you out! You should go back.” This coming from someone who snuck into the Hay Adams Hotel for “brunch” when Obama first arrived in DC for the inauguration in 2009. (He did get kicked out… but not before he’d done a few interviews.) I was still reluctant, but at his encouragement, I mustered up some pluck and marched back in there to document a bit of the action…

It was, in many ways, a fitting start to a new year.

Australia Dairy Company 澳洲牛奶公司 [map]
G/F, 47-49 Parkes Street, Jordan
佐敦白加士街47-49號地下
Phone: 2730-1356
Metro: Jordan
There’s a breakfast set available from 7:30 a.m. to noon for 26HKD. It includes buttered toast, 2 eggs cooked to order, macaroni soup with ham, and coffee or tea. Cold drinks are an additional 2HKD.

The post Australia Dairy Company (澳洲牛奶公司), Hong Kong, and a Lesson in Journalism appeared first on meat loves salt.

Traditionally, wet markets are so called because they are hosed down every day, washing out all the dirt, scraps, blood, and guts from each day’s transactions. They’re often open-air, but some also have a covered section, and others are entirely housed inside a building. Although they’re not as common as they used to be, thankfully, Hong Kong still has a number of wet markets in various neighborhoods, and when my parents lived there briefly a couple of years ago, they still preferred getting groceries there.

One of the oldest wet markets in Hong Kong is in Central, on Graham Street between Queen’s Road and Hollywood Road. My husband’s grandma has actually been frequenting this market for decades! He still has memories of trudging uphill with her and complaining about the heavy bags he had to carry while she was holding both groceries and his small cousins and not even breaking a sweat. To this day, she still buys her groceries here.

We caught the market in the evening, just as many of the stalls were starting to close up, so we just walked through quickly. This market seems to consist more of permanent shops whose wares spill out onto streetside tables and crates during the day. Here, you can find fresh produce, seafood, meat, dried goods, flowers, and more. Look out for the signature red lamps (see photo above) that have become an icon of Hong Kong wet markets. These lamps are said to make the fish look fresher.

I know wet markets can make people uneasy, and I confess that I’ve been to a few that I was surprised to find myself quite uncomfortable at (most notably, the Bac Ha market in Sapa, Vietnam), but for the most part, I love wet markets. They are full of color and life, and there’s no better way to experience local culture than to head to a market in the morning. If you live in a place that has a nearby wet market, just think how convenient — and how much more fun and personal — it would be to walk down the block and get fresh groceries every day from individuals you’ve gotten to know and trust.

We were really passing by the Graham Street Wet Market that night on our way to the dai pai dong in Central. When I was growing up in Toronto, dai pai dong to me meant that food court in the basement of the Dragon City complex in Chinatown where we ordered up stir-fried dishes like fried radish cake and then congregated at a table to scarf it down with some soybean juice. It’s actually quite like the hawker centers in Singapore, where the street-food culture has been sanitized and homogenized.

Originally, dai pai dongs referred specifically to open-air food stalls in Hong Kong with registered licenses prominently displayed, hence dai pai, which means “big sign” (dong means “stall”). There are really only 28 of these left in Hong Kong, and since these licenses are no longer issued, naturally dai pai dong are a dying phenomenon. If you see a stall painted green with a sign prominently displayed, you’ll know that it’s an original. Otherwise, the term dai pai dong has come to refer to any sort of open-air food court, with street stalls and street-side seating.

When I was in Vietnam, Malaysia, and Thailand, most of my meals came from street stalls because they’re everywhere there. But despite being to Hong Kong many times, I actually still had not been to a dai pai dong there. So I was eager to finally experience one this past trip. This turned out to be more difficult than I expected, because they’ve become so rare and are not as popular anymore. One of my husband’s local relatives even asked us why wanted to go to one because they are so dirty! But we were not to be deterred. After stumbling around in Central for a little bit, we were directed to an alley where a couple of food carts were set up. In the left photo above, you can see the famous Soho escalators in the background. I don’t know if this was an official licensed dai pai dong, but it certainly had many of the characteristics of one.

Hong Kong cuisine owes a lot of its characteristics to dai pai dong culture. Many Cantonese dishes are cooked in a wok, which is the main cooking vessel in a dai pai dong. The Cantonese often speak of a dish having wok hei, or the “breath of a wok” — that ever-elusive quality to a dish cooked at high heat in a wok over an open flame. The “breath” is the same word as qi in Mandarin — energy, life force. And indeed, imparting wok hei into a dish requires the skill, deftness, and expertise of a master. A dish with wok hei has a slightly charred taste but is never burnt. The high heat immediately vaporizes moisture, so the food has just the barest crisp edge to it. And it’s not supposed to be greasy. I imagine a dish with wok hei tastes like it’s been cooked by a dragon. The quality is that mythical.

At the dai pai dong in Central, my husband, his brother, and I ordered beef chow fun and salt-and-pepper wings. We were actually on our way to meet up with someone for dinner elsewhere, so this was really just a starter.

The beef chow fun was the best I’d had in a long time. This is the dish that Hong Kong chefs are tested on, as it is very difficult to stir-fry the rice noodles so that they remain intact, soft but not mushy, all the while imparting that seared wok hei flavor to the dish. And this one was expertly rendered. Note in the photo that even the ends of the bean sprouts have been picked off — a real attention to detail! 

The salt-and-pepper wings were deliciously crisp and salty-smoky as well. But the beef chow fun was the real star of our meal.

While this dai pai dong in Central is quite small (it takes up maybe half an alley) and uses an obviously touristy bilingual menu with very non-street-food prices, it certainly did not disappoint. The menu offers a lot of variety, including many of the most famous Cantonese dishes, like Singaporean rice noodles, salt and pepper pork ribs, fried squab, and sweet and sour pork.

If you ever find yourself strolling through the streets of Central (which I also recommend), make sure to pass through the Graham Street Wet Market. You might also order up some beef chow fun at the dai pai dong nearby and experience some local culture that may not be around for much longer.

Graham Street Wet Market
Graham Street, between Queen’s Road and Hollywood Road [map]
Central district, Hong Kong

Central Dai Pai Dong
There may be several in Central district, but the one we went to was in an alley off the Graham Street Wet Market. I don’t have the exact location, but I’ve included an approximate location marker on this map. You can also try asking around at the market. Many people in Hong Kong speak English.

The post Graham Street Wet Market and Dai Pai Dong in Central, Hong Kong appeared first on meat loves salt.

Find the download here.

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Regardless of whether this is a dish you think you might ever want to try, suffice it to say that budaejjigae has a fascinating history. And during my time in Seoul, I was fortunate to meet the lady whom many believe to be the creator of this stew. She’s still making it to this day! You can find out more about her and the origins of budaejjigae in my story in the Washington Post’s travel section today. 

Now, as for whether this dish is worth trying… If you’re a fellow Shin Ramyun devotee, let me just say — one taste of budaejjigae, and you will understand the true meaning of Shin Ramyun. But if you’re balking at the whole idea of paying for a bowl of instant noodles at a restaurant, or asking why you would want to go to Korea to eat Spam — let’s just start over, shall we? This is not a bowl of glorified instant noodles. This is a Korean feast. So: think bubbling Korean stews cooked at the table with fresh ingredients — onions, scallions, gochujang (Korean red pepper paste), kimchi, tofu, leafy greens. Then, yes, add Spam and ramen and whatever else you like — it will all simmer in the rich, spicy broth, soaking in the flavors of the stew. To eat, serve with kimchi and rice. If you truly are not an adventurous eater, I suppose you could substitute in “real” meat (in Korea, Spam is made with real meat!) and maybe some Korean glass noodles. But if you don’t eat kimchi, I can’t help you there.

This is also an easy dish to recreate at home. It’s not quite the same as digging into a big black cauldron of budaejjigae in the dish’s native Uijeongbu, where each chef each has his/her own take on the stew. But it’s a nice, hearty meal that comes together quickly, especially for a cold winter weeknight.

Budaejjigae (Korean Army Base Stew): A Non-Recipe

This can be made quickly in a pot on the stove or cooked in a deep electric skillet or wok at the table, where it continues to simmer while you eat. You can have it as a one-pot meal on its own, or serve it with kimchi and rice.

Sticking to the rustic origins of this dish, here I offer you my non-recipe. Use this as a general guideline. Adjust amounts to your liking. The ingredients to this dish are very flexible, but generally it’s the gochujang, kimchi, Spam, and Korean ramen that make it, so try not to skip those. (Korean ramen has thicker noodles than other instant noodle brands. Don’t use the seasoning packets, though, as the flavor of the stew will come from the other ingredients.) Even if you just tossed everything into a pot and boiled it, it would turn out fine. The only thing I’ll mention is that if it comes out a tad too sour for you, due to the kimchi, try adding a dash of sugar. And you’ll want to eat the noodles as soon as they’re done, to avoid them getting soggy.

BASE: gochujang, kimchi
+
AROMATICS: onion, garlic, scallions
+
MEAT: Spam (additionally, sliced hot dogs and ground beef are also common)
+
BROTH: enough chicken or beef broth (homemade, canned, or even water would work) to just cover all the ingredients; add water if it boils down too quickly
+
VEGETABLES: leafy greens like garland chrysanthemum are popular (I’ve used pea sprouts in the photo), as are various mushrooms like enoki or shiitake
+
NOODLES: Korean ramen, such as Shin Ramyun noodles (skip the seasoning packets, though); some people like to also add sweet potato noodles
+
OPTIONAL TOPPINGS: baked beans, tteok (rice cake), bacon, tofu, and American cheese

The post The Story of Budaejjigae, Korea’s “Army Base Stew” (부대찌개) appeared first on meat loves salt.