Jennifer Cooks: Dakdoritang (닭도리탕)

I'm off the crutches and in the mood to cook! I found a really easy Dakdoritang (닭도리탕) recipe on seouleats.com and decided to make it last night. Daktdoritang is basically a really spicy chicken stew, perfect for heating your body on a cold winter night, or for clearing out your sinuses.

Here's the recipe so you can try it yourself:


Ingredients

(Yield: 4 Servings)

* 8 chicken pieces (thighs, breasts or drumsticks are best)
* 4 medium sized potatoes
* 2 onions
* 1 carrot
* 2 jalapenos (optional)
* 2 tbsp minced garlic
* 2 tbsp gochujang (hot pepper paste)
* 2 tbsp gochugaru (red pepper flakes)
* 2 tbsp soy sauce
* 1 tsp sugar
* 2 tsp sesame oil
* 2 green onions
* 1 tbsp ginger
* 2 cups of water
* Salt and pepper


Cooking Directions

1. Peel potatoes and cut them in half. Then cut each half into four quarters (8 pieces)
2. Cut onions the same way as the potatoes
3. Peel carrot and cut it into lengths about the same size as its width. Cut each slice into four quarters
4. Slice jalapenos (optional)
5. In a heavy pot, combine all ingredients except green onions
6. Cover and cook for 30-40 minutes over a medium flame
7. Sprinkle salt and pepper to taste
8. Chop and add scallions to simmer for 5 additional minutes
9. Serve hot with rice (This is optional. I personally think the potatoes offer enough starch.)

Enjoy!

Hobak Hummus

With only seven weeks left in Korea, I thought I'd want to stuff my face with as much kimchi as possible. And while I'm getting my daily fill of fermented cabbage, all I can think of is American food.

Well, let me clarify. I'm not sitting around daydreaming of Big Macs and french fries. I'm thinking about caesar salads. Enchiladas. Medjool dates. Goat cheese. Greek yogurt drizzled with honey. Hummus with warm pita. I could go on, but I'm writing this at a coffee shop, and I'm drooling. People are starting to stare.

My point: You can't find these things in Korea. There's no lunch cafe serving salads and sandwiches down the street. The variety of cheese consists of processed cheese squares and string cheese. And yogurt is sold as a sugary sweet liquid in milk cartons.

So in order to satisfy at least one of my cravings, I turned to my friend Amanda Mohlenhoff. Since she's been living in Seoul as a vegetarian for two years, I knew she'd have a few tricks up her sleeves for making some killer hummus. And since she's a whiz in the kitchen, I knew she'd offer a recipe that didn't require a hike to the foreign food market for canned chick peas.

She not only delivered, but gave me a recipe that will be a staple for future house parties. Substituting pumpkin (a Korean hobak) for chick peas was not only convenient, but it allowed for a creamier, slightly sweeter version of my beloved Mediterranean spread. Enjoy!

Pumpkin Hummus

Ingredients:
1 pumpkin (Korean hobak), peeled and steamed (For those living outside Korea, a small pumpkin or canned pumpkin should work fine)
2 TBSP tahini, or 5-6 TBSP of sesame seeds, crushed
2 TBSP soy sauce
1-2 cloves garlic
3 TBSP olive oil*
2 TBSP cumin powder
Juice of one lemon, or to taste
Salt to taste
Crushed red pepper to taste

Directions:

Cool the steamed pumpkin and put it in a blender (or you can just mash it up). Puree the pumpkin, garlic, tahini and oil in batches until smooth and creamy. Transfer to a bowl and add the soy sauce, lemon juice, salt, cumin and red pepper.

You can also add chopped green gochu peppers (the Korean jalapenos) for extra spice, or a chopped scallion or two for more onion flavor. *The more oil you add, the thinner and creamier it will get.

You can probably guess that this recipe is very flexible. Feel free to play around with seasonings and measurements to fit your taste.


Just because it's in tupperware doesn't mean I can't make it look festive!

A New Year, A New Resolution

Every year it's the same thing: Lose weight, workout more, eat better.

Maybe it's living in Korea, or maybe it's working with 6-year-olds who adore me no matter what; but I've finally realized that these goals are bullshit. So, in honor of the new year, I'm posting my students' resolutions for 2011.

1. Donna: To make a book
2. Jeffrey: To make a helicopter out of Legos
3. Thomas: To learn magic
4. Micky: To be a good soccer player
5. Cameron: To get a dog
6. Andy: To make a car out of Legos
7. Francisco: To make a motorcycle out of Legos
8. Raphael: To become a magician
9. Peter: To make a top
10. Jelly: To learn hard ballet positions
11. Alice: To be a good student
12. Jimmy: To drive a bus

And lastly, my New Years Resolution: To love my body just the way it is--cellulite and all. It might not be as easy as, say, making a helicopter out of Legos, but I'll do my best.

Comfort Soups

A broken ankle, snow on the ground, facebook status updates on various Christmas activities. A year and four months in Korea, and I'm really missing home. Thankfully, I know just what to do (or eat) when the homesickness strikes: Budae Jjigae and Samgyetang.

Budae jjigae, also known as army base stew, became popular after the Korean War. Quality meats were hard to find, so to make due, Koreans started using surplus foods from the U.S. Army bases, such as hot dogs and Spam, and incorporating them into a traditional spicy soup seasoned with red chili paste and kimchi. Today, the stew is still very popular and includes anything from instant ramen noodles, ground beef, onions, tteok (rice cake), chili peppers, tofu, garlic, mushrooms, zucchini and cabbage. It's like what we Americans call "everything but the kitchen sink soup," but better.

I was actually appalled at myself for liking this dish. I mean, for God's sake, it has Spam and hot dogs in it. But there's something about the way the salty meats mix with the fiery chili broth and seasonal vegetables that makes me unbutton my pants for more.

Then there's Samgyetang, the Korean's take on chicken soup. Rich, tender chicken in a salty broth--very similar to the American staple, although its appearance could scare off a few non-adventurous eaters. A whole young chicken stuffed with glutinous rice in a bubbling broth of Korean ginseng, dried jujube berries, chestnuts, garlic and ginger comes to your table in individual pots. The server gives you a small pitcher of ginseng wine and a small trash can for the bones. (Sidenote: Do not eat Samgyetang on a first date...or the sixth date for that matter. Spitting out bones while sweating out ginseng is not becoming.) Think chicken and rice soup, only made by a Korean Emeril Lagasse. They have really kicked it up a notch. Seriously, I would bathe in this stuff.

Traditionally, Samgyetang is served in the summer months for its nutritive properties, replacing those lost through excessive sweating. And according the last Korean man I dated, most Koreans enjoy the soup on three days a year--the hottest days in summer. Never taking anyone's word for anything, I googled it. And according to the all-knowing Internet, the three hottest days of the year even have names: Chobok (초복), Jungbok (중복) and Malbok (말복).

But I don't care. Let the Koreans sweat it out in the summer. I'm completely fine with being the stupid blond girl, stuffing her face with a whole young chicken, wearing a cast, in the corner, by herself, watching the snow fall out the window. This is the holiday season after all.

A Word on School Lunches

My foodie friend Megan Greenberg scoffed at the idea that I would gain weight on anything other than Gruyère and flan during my recovery. The thought of eating school lunches and Lara Bars while wearing sweatpants for a month and a half made her reevaluate our food-based friendship.

I understand where she's coming from. Hell, I'd much rather be eating large servings of Mexican custard and $15 grilled cheeses. But the fact is, I live in Korea. And Koreans don't do cheese.

While pleading my case over email, I could see her look of disgust. I imagined she was drinking a large cup of Columbian coffee, nibbling on a slice of homemade quiche while typing.

"But Korean lunches are really good..." I started to type. But then I remembered, she lives in America, where mystery meats and tater tots reign supreme. I remembered the Hamburger Helper pizza special during my high school years and immediately gave up pleading my case.

Until now.

Every day, the Korean teachers come by the classrooms with a cart full of white rice, large batches of hot soup and a variety of banchan (small side dishes). Some days the soup is kimchi jjigae (cabbage and tofu in a spicy broth), others it's doenjang guk (soybean paste and vegetables), kongnamul guk (bean sprout soup) or miyeok guk (seaweed soup). Either way, it's good. The banchan always consists of kimchi, whether it's spicy fermented cabbage, turnips or onions. Other banchan might include sprouts in a spicy red sauce, boiled quail eggs, squid salad, fried sweet potatoes sprinkled with sesame seeds, roasted pork, pajeon (a savory pancake), mandu (dumplings), japchae (glass noodles with pork and vegetables), anchovies, steamed egg and crab rolls, acorn jelly, fried pork and sweet potato cutlets, corn salad...the list goes on.

It's hot, it's savory, it's delicious.

Needless to say, it's no Hamburger Helper.

The Sweatpants Blues

Some people lose weight when they break a bone. They sleep so much they forget to eat. The lack of movement kills their appetite. The depression makes food taste like dirt.

I have never understood these people.

For me, a six-week sentence of crutches and a cast means lots of reading, lots of watching movies, and lots of eating.

It's not like I want to gain 10 pounds during this recovery, but the whole not being able to shower thing really makes it hard to find motivation. Oh, and the fact that I can't use my hands to cook or carry bags of takeout. So, I've been relying on protein bars and school lunches.

Protein bar for breakfast, whatever the kids eat for snack, white rice and whatever else the school serves for lunch, whatever the kids eat for snack, school lunch leftovers for dinner, and a chocolate Lara bar for dessert. Okay, lately it's been about three or four chocolate bars for dessert.

But just like the people that make excuses for losing weight during their recoveries, I have a million excuses for overeating. Excuse No.1: I've been wearing sweatpants every day for two weeks.

Jennifer the Turkey

I've never cared too much for turkey. Deep fried, baked, white meat, dark meat, gravy, no gravy--it was all the same to me. But this year, my second Thanksgiving in Seoul, I couldn't get the idea of a big turkey dinner out of my head. I had to have it.

So, I found a couple options. I could spend $50 on a turkey buffet in Itaewon (the foreign part of town), I could indulge in a $70 sit-down dinner in Apgujeong (the Beverly Hills of Seoul), or I could pick up a pre-made dinner from the military base (enough to feed 10-12 people) for $100. It was a no-brainer.

I decorated the apartment with hand turkeys and Thanksgiving Day wreaths I made at school. I mopped the floors and scrubbed the stove. I made sure there were enough paper plates and plastic cups for everyone attending.

"Jen, do you need me to go with you to pick up the turkey dinner," asked my roommate Cory.
"No, just pick up some wine and get excited for what's to come," I said. "I've got this under control."

But I didn't. Not at all. On my way back from picking up the bird, I somehow lost my footing and fell to the ground--the box landing on my ankle. I knew right away it was broken.

After the doctor confirmed my prognosis, my roommates came by the hospital to check on me, and to pick up the highly-anticipated Thanksgiving dinner. "Just make sure to save me some," I said.

But, in true Korean fashion, I was out of the hospital 30 minutes later, hobbling to my apartment on crutches.

A couple glasses of wine, two plates of food, and a pack of painkillers and anti-inflammatories later, I was in my bed watching Anthony Bourdain with my friend Jason--trying to drown out the music and laughter from the living room.

"I know this sucks," said Jason. "But you have to admit, that was some pretty damn good turkey."