All recipes

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SujeonggwaCinnamon persimmon punch

After a big Seollal feast in Seoul, sujeonggwa comes out ice-cold in small bowls, dark red-brown and fragrant with cinnamon and ginger, with a soft dried persimmon and a few pine nuts floating in each one. It is the punch of the New Year season, made a day or two ahead and kept on a cold balcony. The cinnamon and ginger are boiled separately and then combined, which keeps each flavour clean. The common mistake is boiling the cinnamon too long or too hard: it turns bitter and cloudy, so keep it to a gentle simmer. Contains pine nuts. Chef's tip: soak the dried persimmons in the cooled punch only a few hours before serving, so they soften without falling apart.

60 min

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GaraetteokLong cylinder rice cakes

Garaetteok are the long white rice-cake logs that Korean mills churn out before Seollal, when families queue with their own rice to have them pressed and then slice them into ovals for tteokguk, the New Year soup. The length is meant to wish for a long life. Freshly made, they are soft and chewy and eaten warm, dipped in honey or toasted over a grill; once they firm up they are sliced for soup or cut into sticks for tteokbokki. Making them at home is simple, though the logs come out a little less glossy than machine-pressed ones. The usual mistake is rolling the dough when it has cooled: it must be hot to stay smooth. Rice cakes are chewy and sticky, a known choking risk: cut them into small pieces for young children and older people and eat them sitting down. Chef's tip: leave the logs to firm overnight before slicing on the diagonal; they cut cleanly instead of squashing.

45 min

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HoppangRed bean steamed buns

When the first cold snap hits, Korean convenience stores bring out glass steamer cabinets full of hoppang, and office workers grab one for breakfast on the way to the subway. The bun is soft, slightly sweet yeasted dough wrapped around a thick, smooth red bean paste, steamed until pillowy and eaten piping hot. Making them at home takes a morning but they freeze perfectly. The usual mistake is opening the lid too early or steaming over too fierce a heat: the buns collapse and wrinkle, so keep a steady medium heat and leave them to rest 5 minutes before lifting the lid. Contains wheat. Chef's tip: let the shaped buns rise on squares of baking paper; you can move them into the steamer without squashing them.

120 min

Korean Baking

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Trà sen (lotus tea)

Every June and July, before sunrise, boats slip between the pink lotus on Hanoi's West Lake to gather flowers for trà sen. The finest lotus tea is made by stripping the tiny white rice-like anthers from hundreds of blooms and layering them with green tea, a labour that makes it one of Vietnam's most expensive gifts, kept for Tết. Families do a simpler version at home: a spoon of Thái Nguyên green tea is tucked into the heart of a fresh flower in the evening, the petals closed and tied, and by morning the leaves have taken on a sweet, creamy, slightly vanilla-like perfume. It is brewed in a small clay pot and drunk in tiny cups in the early morning. The common mistake is brewing with boiling water, which flattens the lotus scent and makes the green tea bitter. Rinse the leaves quickly and brew at 80–85 °C. It is ready when the cup is pale gold and the steam smells of flowers before tea. No fresh lotus? Buy ready-made lotus-scented tea from Vietnamese shops and start at the brewing step. Chef's tip: pick a bud that is just about to open; a fully open bloom has already lost its scent.

15 min

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Nước sấu (sấu fruit drink)

When Hanoi's tamarind-like sấu trees drop their small green fruit in May and June, street vendors start selling glasses of nước sấu: a few candied fruits, a ladle of ginger syrup, cold water and crushed ice. Families make big jars to last until the season ends in August. It is sipped with a spoon so you can bite into the crunchy-soft fruit at the bottom. It tastes sour and sweet at once, with a clean ginger warmth and a flavour a little like green mango and plum. Traditional cooks soak the peeled fruit in limewater to keep it crisp; a salt soak works well at home. The common mistake is skipping the blanch and slow syrup: raw fruit stays acrid and the syrup clouds. Blanch the fruit briefly, then cook it gently in sugar until it turns translucent yellow-green and the syrup is clear and glossy. Store it in a sterilised jar in the fridge for up to 2 months with a clean spoon; discard if it fizzes, smells fermented or shows mould. Fresh sấu is rare abroad; look for frozen sấu in Vietnamese shops, or use firm green ambarella. Chef's tip: slash each fruit a few times so the syrup soaks all the way in.

55 min

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Trà chanhIced lime tea

On warm evenings the pavement beside St Joseph's Cathedral in Hanoi fills with rows of tiny plastic stools, and nearly everyone is holding a tall glass of trà chanh, cheap green tea poured over ice with a squeeze of lime and plenty of sugar, sipped with a saucer of sunflower seeds while the city's scooters roar past. It is sharp, sweet and very refreshing. Chef's tip: brew the tea in water just off the boil, around 80 °C; boiling water makes green tea bitter.

10 min

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Daechu-cha (jujube tea)

Boeun county in North Chungcheong is famous for its large, sweet jujubes, harvested each October and sold at a lively autumn festival. Once dried, they become daechu-cha, the deep amber tea Korean traditional teahouses in Insadong and Jeonju serve from late autumn to early spring, topped with pine nuts. Long, slow simmering with ginger and a stick of cinnamon draws out a flavour like dates, caramel and baked apple; pressing the softened flesh through a sieve gives the tea its velvety, almost soup-thick body. It is traditionally drunk to warm up on cold nights. The common mistake is simply boiling whole jujubes and straining: the skins stay sealed, the tea comes out thin and pale, and most of the sweetness is thrown away. Slit each jujube, simmer until the flesh slides off the stone, then mash the pulp through the sieve. It is ready when the liquid has reduced by about half, is dark amber and lightly coats a spoon. Keep it covered in the fridge for up to 5 days and reheat gently. Chef's tip: a few slices of fresh ginger added in the last 20 minutes give a brighter heat than ginger boiled for the whole time.

110 min

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Cà phê cốt dừa (coconut coffee)

Hanoi takes its coffee seriously, and in the last fifteen years coconut coffee has become one of the city's signatures, sold from Old Quarter cafés, lakeside balconies around Hoàn Kiếm and tiny stools on the pavement. It is a hot-weather drink, at its best on a sticky afternoon between May and September, eaten half with a spoon. Strong Vietnamese robusta drips slowly through an aluminium phin, then is poured over a pale slush of thick coconut cream, sweetened condensed milk and crushed ice, so you get bitter, dark coffee against something rich and cold that tastes like coconut ice cream. The common mistake is blending the slush too long or with too much ice, which leaves it thin and watery, and pouring the coffee in boiling hot so the slush collapses. Blend just until it looks like soft snow, and let the coffee cool for a minute or two. It is ready when the slush holds a spoon upright and the coffee sits in a dark layer on top. Robusta is high in caffeine and this is a strong drink, so it is not for children and one glass is plenty. Chef's tip: chill the coconut cream overnight; cold, thick cream gives a fluffier slush.

15 min

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Yuja-cha (citron tea)

Goheung, on the southern coast of South Jeolla, is Korea's yuja country: in November the groves turn gold and families slice the knobbly citrons for yuja-cheong, the honeyed preserve that becomes tea all winter. From December to March a spoonful in hot water is offered to guests, to students cramming late and to anyone with a scratchy throat, as it is traditionally drunk for colds. The tea is sweet, floral and sharp, with soft, chewy strands of peel that you eat at the end with a spoon. The common mistake is leaving the fruit damp or the pith too thick: wet fruit lets mould in, and thick white pith makes the preserve bitter. Scrub, dry completely and pare away any pith thicker than a few millimetres. The cheong is ready after a day or two, when the sugar has dissolved into a clear, glossy syrup around the peel. Keep it in the fridge for up to three months, always with a dry spoon; throw it away if you see fuzzy mould, smell alcohol or it bubbles. No yuja? Japanese yuzu is the same fruit; otherwise use 2 lemons and 2 mandarins. Chef's tip: soak the seeds in a little of the honey and add that liquid back for a silkier syrup.

45 min

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Sungnyung (scorched rice tea)

Before electric rice cookers, every Korean pot of rice left a golden crust, nurungji, stuck to the bottom. Rather than waste it, cooks poured in water and simmered it while the family ate, and the warm, cloudy sungnyung was drunk at the end of the meal in place of tea. Older Koreans still describe it as the taste of home, and many Seoul restaurants that cook rice in stone pots finish by pouring water over the crust at the table. It tastes of toasted grain and has a faint natural sweetness, with soft pieces of crust to spoon up at the bottom. Without a stone pot you can make the crust from leftover rice in a frying pan. The common mistake is rushing the crust over high heat: it blackens on the outside and turns the drink bitter while the middle stays soft. Keep the heat low and patient, and aim for even golden-brown. The crust is ready when it lifts away from the pan in one sheet and smells like popcorn; the sungnyung is ready when the water is milky and pale gold. Chef's tip: make extra crust, dry it completely and keep it in a jar, so you can make sungnyung in ten minutes any evening.

35 min

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Homemade doenjangFermented soybean paste

Doenjang starts in late autumn, after the soybean harvest, when Korean households used to boil beans in a cauldron, pound them into bricks and hang the meju from the rafters on straw ropes to grow a white, sweet-smelling bloom over the winter. In early spring, on a clear dry day, the bricks are dropped into salt brine in an onggi jar with dried chillies, jujubes and a red-hot piece of charcoal. Some six to eight weeks later the dark liquid is drawn off and boiled into soup soy sauce (guk-ganjang), and the softened bricks are mashed into doenjang, which ripens through the summer. It is chunkier, saltier and funkier than miso, with a nutty, almost smoky depth: the backbone of doenjang-jjigae, ssamjang and spinach namul. Common mistake: making the brick too thick or drying it in a warm, still room, so the centre rots before it dries; keep it about 6 cm thick and hang it where air moves. The paste is ready when it is mid-brown, smells of toasted nuts and soy, and tastes salty-sweet rather than sharp. Chef's tip: you can buy dried meju blocks from Korean grocers and start at the brining step.

300 min

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SaeujeotSalted shrimp

Saeujeot is the quiet backbone of Korean cooking. Tiny shrimp from the west coast are packed in salt at sea or on the quay, and the most famous jars age in the old tunnels of Gwangcheon or come from Ganghwa Island. Shrimp caught in June (yukjeot) are prized for kimjang kimchi in November; autumn shrimp (chujeot) go into everyday cooking. A spoonful seasons steamed eggs, stews and kimchi, and a little dish of it, with chilli and sesame, is set beside boiled pork for bossam. It tastes intensely salty, sweet and oceanic, and the shrimp stay plump and pale pink. This is a raw, salt-cured seafood: pregnant people, babies, older people and anyone with weak immunity should only eat it cooked into a hot dish, never raw in kimchi or dips. The common mistake is skimping on salt; the cure needs 30% salt by weight to stay safe, so weigh everything. It is ready after at least 3 months in the fridge, when the liquid is clear amber and the smell is sweet and briny, never ammonia-like. Chef's tip: buy shrimp sold for making jeot, frozen at sea, and work fast while they are still icy.

30 min

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Oksusu-chaRoasted corn tea

Oksusu-cha is the tea Korean households boil by the kettleful and keep in the fridge in old glass bottles, drunk instead of water with meals from Seoul apartments to Gangwon farmhouses, chilled in summer and hot in winter. Dried corn kernels are roasted until dark golden, then simmered to make a pale amber tea that tastes gently sweet and toasty, though nothing is added at all. About 0.0 g salt per glass. The usual mistake is boiling the kernels too long, which makes the tea cloudy and starchy; 15 minutes is plenty. Ready-roasted corn kernels are sold in Korean shops; if roasting your own, use dried corn, not fresh or tinned. Chef's tip: mix in a spoon of roasted barley for the classic boricha blend, rounder and more nutty, though no longer gluten free.

22 min

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Misutgaru drinkRoasted multigrain shake

Misutgaru is a fine beige powder of roasted grains and beans, usually barley, brown rice, glutinous rice, black beans and sesame, and Korean mums have shaken it into cold milk for rushed breakfasts for generations. It tastes like toasted cereal and a little like peanut butter, and it fills you up until lunch. The mistake is stirring the powder straight into a full glass, which leaves dry lumps floating on top; shake it in a jar or whisk it into a little liquid first. Honey is not suitable for babies under one. Chef's tip: add a few ice cubes to the jar before shaking, which breaks up any lumps and froths the drink.

5 min

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MaesilcheongGreen plum syrup

In early June, Gwangyang in South Jeolla holds its plum festival under hillsides of maesil trees, and across Korea families buy crates of hard green maesil plums to make maesilcheong. The plums are layered with an equal weight of sugar in big glass jars, and over 100 days the sugar draws out their juice into a tart, fruity amber syrup. It is the Korean kitchen's all-purpose sweetener: a spoonful in a marinade for bulgogi, in salad dressings and in kimchi, and diluted with cold water as a summer drink traditionally taken after a heavy meal. It tastes sweet, sour and almond-scented. Expect a little natural fermentation: a few bubbles and a trace of alcohol (well under 1%) are normal while the sugar dissolves, so keep the lid loose. The common mistake is wet fruit: any water left on the plums or stem scars can lead to mould, so dry them for hours. Ready when the plums have shrivelled and float, and the syrup is clear amber. Raw green plum stones contain compounds that release cyanide: never crush, bite or eat the stones, and remove the fruit after 100 days. No maesil? Use hard green apricots, with the same care. Chef's tip: use half brown sugar for a deeper colour and caramel note.

30 min

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Homemade gochujangChilli bean paste

Sunchang, a small county in North Jeolla, is so tied to gochujang that it holds a jang festival every October, but the paste itself is traditionally made in the cold weeks of late winter, when there are no flies and it can ferment slowly in glazed onggi jars on the sunny jangdokdae terrace. Glutinous rice flour is broken down by barley malt into a sweet, runny porridge, boiled down, then beaten with fine chilli powder, fermented soybean (meju) powder, rice syrup and salt. Young, it is bright, sweet and fiery; after two or three months it darkens to brick red and gains a round, savoury depth, thick enough to hold a ridge on the spoon. It goes into bibimbap, tteokbokki, ssamjang, stews and marinades all year. Common mistake: adding the chilli and salt while the porridge is still hot, which dulls the colour and can make the paste turn sour; wait until it is lukewarm. It is ready when it is glossy, deep red, and smells sweet and earthy with no sharp, boozy note. Chef's tip: hold the malt and rice at 55–60 °C on a rice cooker's keep-warm setting; any hotter and the malt enzymes stop working, so the porridge never thins.

210 min

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Maesil-cha (green plum tea)

In early June the hillsides of Gwangyang are picked clean of hard green maesil, and Korean kitchens across the country fill with jars of plums buried in sugar. Over about a hundred days the sugar draws out the fruit's juice and becomes maesil-cheong, a golden syrup that is both a cooking ingredient and a drink. Iced, it is the summer cooler; hot, it is traditionally drunk after a heavy meal for digestion. It tastes bright and tart, like green apple and apricot, rounded by the sugar. The common mistake is putting damp plums or plums with stalks into the jar: water and stalk ends invite mould and unwanted fermentation. Pick out each stalk with a toothpick and dry the fruit completely. The syrup is ready when the plums have shrivelled and float in clear amber liquid. A little foaming early on is normal, but if it smells strongly of alcohol, grows fuzzy mould or turns slimy, discard it. Remove the plums at 100 days, because their stones contain natural compounds best kept out of a long-stored syrup. Chef's tip: use half white and half light brown sugar for a rounder, toffee-edged syrup.

40 min

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YujacheongYuja citron preserve

When the first frost comes to Goheung in South Jeolla and Namhae island in November, the yuja orchards turn gold, and households slice the knobbly, deeply perfumed fruit into sugar to make yujacheong. Through the winter, a few spoonfuls in a mug of hot water make yuja-cha, the tea Koreans reach for on cold evenings and when they feel a cold coming on; it is also spooned over yoghurt, toast or into salad dressings. It tastes floral, sharp and sweet, with tender strips of peel and a thick golden syrup. The sugar is what preserves it: equal weights of fruit and sugar, kept in the fridge once the sugar dissolves. The common mistake is leaving it warm too long: after a day or two on the counter it can start to ferment and fizz, so move it to the fridge as soon as the sugar has mostly melted. It is ready after about a week, when the peel is translucent and the syrup thick. No yuja? Use Meyer lemons, or two lemons for every mandarin. Bubbles or a boozy smell mean it has started to ferment: refrigerate it at once; mould means throw it away. Chef's tip: scrub the skins with baking soda first; you are eating the whole peel, so it must be spotless.

40 min

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Misutgaru (multigrain powder drink)

Misutgaru began as travellers' food, a powder of roasted grains that kept for weeks and could be stirred into water on the road. Today it is the drink of Korean summer: mothers shake it with cold milk for breakfast before school, office workers buy it as misutgaru latte from cafés, and farmers drink it at midday in the fields of July. The powder is a mix of roasted barley, glutinous and brown rice, black and yellow soybeans, and sesame, and it tastes of toasted cereal and peanut, lightly sweet, with a thick, creamy body that fills you up like a light meal. The common mistake is tipping the powder into a full glass of milk and stirring: it floats, clumps into dry balls and never fully mixes. Shake it in a jar with a little liquid first, or blend it, then add the rest. It is ready when the drink is smooth, beige and frothy with no dry flecks, and slightly thickened after a minute's rest. Use water or soy milk for a dairy-free version, and note that the barley means it is not gluten free. Chef's tip: a pinch of salt makes the grain flavour taste rounder and less flat.

5 min

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Ssanghwa-cha (herbal tonic tea)

Ssanghwa-cha is the strongest thing on the menu of an old Korean dabang. From the 1960s these smoky tea rooms served it in thick ceramic cups, dark as coffee, with pine nuts, slivered jujube and walnut floating on top; in winter some still slide a raw egg yolk in, which this recipe leaves out. The brew comes from Korean herbal tradition, where ssanghwa-tang is drunk to warm up and recover from tiredness after hard work or a cold. It tastes earthy and bitter at first, then sweet from licorice and jujube, with warmth from cinnamon and ginger and a celery-like perfume from angelica. Herbal shops sell the roots in pre-measured packs. The common mistake is boiling it hard: the liquid reduces too fast and turns harsh. Keep a gentle simmer with the lid ajar for two hours. It is ready when it is very dark brown, reduced to about a third and smells of cinnamon and roots. Because it contains licorice and angelica, skip it if you are pregnant or breastfeeding, have high blood pressure, or take blood thinners or other medicines unless your doctor agrees. Chef's tip: a second, lighter brew from the same roots is good with honey.

135 min