Korean Fried Chicken
I have had the most incredible hankering for Korean food recently. I can’t explain it, except that this current weather makes me want to cuddle up with a bowl of soondubu and freshly cooked rice, made in a stone pot of course. I also just recently discovered Maangchi, who is just about the cutest woman alive other than my mom. They remind me an awful lot of each other actually.
Maangchi doesn’t do anything in half measures, meaning everything she cooks is in huge quantities. She whips out 10 pounds of kimchi at a time, fries huge basins of japchae. I can’t imagine the number of people she cooks for, but in the case of the recipe I’m sharing today, she deep-fried three pounds of chicken wings. For Chris and me, two to three wings/drumettes each, so maybe half a pound of chicken total, is sufficient. Although maybe we’re just light eaters. It’s hard to say.
But hold it! I’m misleading you, aren’t I? I actually didn’t end up following Maangchi’s recipe. It was pretty good, but I found that I preferred Saveur’s version better. The two taste totally different; I just found her version to be a bit cloying. (Also, I don’t understand why corn syrup seems to end up in a lot of Korean dishes—is it a common ingredient? And why?)
What the two versions have in common—and what makes Korean fried chicken so dang addictive—is that the chicken is fried twice. This results in a Seriously Crispy Crust. It’s the difference between a weak handshake and a firm one, sallow and sturdy. A robust crust, if you will. I think it’s dead simple and pretty genius. (The only downside is that you have to withstand being barraged by oil twice as long. Actually, come to think of it, that’s a pretty big downside. Deep-frying is freaky. Make sure you wear long sleeves. And gloves. And clear everything away around the perimeter of the pot because it’s going to get dirty.) And then you smother it in a hot-garlicky-mouth-puckering sauce and away you go!
(On an unrelated note, if you follow me on Instagram, you might know that I was in California last week, where I got to meet the newest generation of the Anderson clan, aka Chris’s brother’s four-and-a-half month old son and our nephew! I get a little giddy calling him this, because it didn’t really occur to me that he WAS related to me until Chris’s sister-in-law [which makes her my sister-in-law?] called me Aunt Linda. Aunt Linda! That’s so exciting! And now that I’ve seen him and fallen in love, I want to buy him things like this onesie. What do you think? Isn’t it adorable?? [Now my mom thinks I want to start popping them out. Ha. Ha ha ha. Sorry Mom. You’ll have to give me time.])
KOREAN FRIED CHICKEN (aka KFC)
From Saveur
Makes 16 pieces
Ingredients:
- 5 cloves garlic, chopped
- 1 (1.5″) piece peeled ginger, chopped
- 3 Tbsp soy sauce
- 3 Tbsp gochujang
- 1.5 Tbsp rice vinegar
- 1 Tbsp Asian sesame oil
- 1 Tbsp honey
- 2/3 cup flour
- 1 Tbsp cornstarch
- 2/3 cup water
- 16 chicken wingettes/drumettes (from 8 chicken wings)
- Canola oil, for frying
- Sesame seeds and chopped green onions for topping
Directions:
Make the sauce: process the garlic, ginger, soy sauce, gochujang, rice vinegar, sesame oil, and honey with a food processor/immesion blender until blended (or mince the garlic and ginger and whisk the ingredients together by hand).
For the chicken: in a bowl, whisk the flour, corn starch, and water. Add the chicken and toss. In a medium-sized heavy-bottomed pot, pour about 2 inches of oil. Clip a candy thermometer onto the side of the pot and heat the oil until it reaches a temperature of 350 degrees F. Add the chicken pieces gently, but don’t crowd the pot; you’ll have to work in two or three batches. Fry chicken until golden, about 6 to 8 minutes. Drain on paper towels. Reheat the oil to 350 degrees and fry chicken again until crisp and medium brown, 6 to 8 minutes. Drain.
In a large bowl, toss the chicken pieces with the sauce, top with sesame seeds and green onions if using, and serve. With lots of napkins.
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Pappardelle With Wild Mushrooms
With Thanksgiving over, I’ve switched to Winter Mode.
Winter Mode consists of uplifting meals whose main ingredients might include any or all of the following: pasta and/or noodles, cheese, butter, cream, and excessive liquid. Bacon makes a recurring appearance. As does chocolate. My preferred mode of cooking becomes baking. Or boiling. Boiling noodles, that is.
Of course, because our radiator goes on overdrive each and every night, we’re met with a rather bewildering dinnertime situation. To set the scene: we’re minimally dressed. No socks, no sweaters. We’re wearing t-shirts, shorts even. The window’s open—god, can we get some snow in here or something? (Just kidding, but I can’t wait!) While we eat, pools of sweat build up on our foreheads, right by our hairlines. (Why do I bother washing my hair?) My armpits start feeling damp, I’m blowing like crazy on each bite to cool it down.
It’s contradictory-feeling, the heat, and confuses my body greatly. I’m craving fats and proteins, but responding to the stuff adversely once I get it.
But it’s alright. There’s ice cream in the freezer, the perfect after-dinner aid. Armed with a heaping bowl each, we can dangle our feet on our fire escape and contemplate the following day.
To counter the richness, there are mushrooms.
In my estimation, mushrooms are the perfect stand-in for meat. They’re portly and satisfying, with their own irresistible flavors to boot. Plus, they’re not bad on the eyes. (Can tofu boast such a quality? I think not.)
I like shiitake mushrooms the best, but I like mixing them even more. This wild mushroom pasta serves them up simply, with a liberal sprinkling of parmesan cheese and parsley. I think the trick is to not overdo it on the pappardelle, which has the tendency to dry out the dish. While the original recipe called for an approximate one-to-one ratio of pasta and mushrooms, I would halve the heavy (albeit delicious) pappardelle and even increase the amount of mushrooms just a tad.
That way, you’ll really taste the garlicky mushrooms but get to savor the luscious pappardelle as well.
My body can cope with that.
PAPPARDELLE WITH WILD MUSHROOMS
Adapted from The Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver
Serves 2
Ingredients:
- 12 oz. mixed mushrooms
- 3 Tbsp olive oil
- 2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
- Dried red pepper flakes, salt, and pepper to taste
- juice of 1/2 lemon
- up to 8 oz. pappardelle
- 1/2 stick (2 ounces) unsalted butter
- a small handful of grated Parmesan cheese
- a handful of fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
Directions:
Brush off dirt from the mushrooms and slice thinly. In a very hot frying pan, add the olive oil, then the mushrooms. Let them fry fast, tossing once or twice, then add the garlic and red pepper flakes with a pinch of salt (season lightly, Jamie instructs, as a little really brings out the flavor). Continue to fry fast for 4 to 5 minutes, tossing regularly. Then turn the heat off and squeeze in the lemon juice. Toss and season to taste.
Meanwhile cook the pasta in boiling salted water until al dente. Add to the mushrooms, with the parmesan, parsley and butter. Toss gently, coating the pasta with the mushrooms and their flavor. Serve, scraping out all of the last bits of mushroom from the pan, and sprinkle with a little extra parsley and Parmesan.
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