Korean Grocery Store Adventure
This adventure starts with a mysterious memory. Recently a friend gave me and my partner Guillaume a free trial of a meal kit delivery service. More curious than committed, we cooked several dishes for two from the box. One of them involved Korean rice cakes.
The dish itself wasn’t even the best one, but did prompt online searches to figure out what the “real” recipe might be. Yet the only result involving those main ingredients was — yep — the meal kit company. Delving into other recipes that involve Korean rice cakes, which are white cylinders or slices that have a delightfully chewy texture once cooked, delivered me to the famed “tteokbokki.” Looking at photos of the popular Korean dish with its red pepper sauce and soft cylindrical rice cakes brought back a memory.
Back in college I accidentally arrived late to an Asian festival at the campus auditorium. The ticket price included a buffet of dishes from diverse Asian cultures represented by students. A performance followed involving dancing, singing, and I don’t remember what else because I entered right as the auditorium lights dimmed. The buffet was still open, but most of the pans were decimated. Ravenous, I piled my plate with a sampling of whatever was left and took a tiny paper cup of water up to the balcony.
Within seconds of shoveling food into my face, my mouth was completely numb. But it wasn’t an unpleasant heat. The numbness just made eating more easier. I didn’t know what any of the dishes were — the buffet area was in darkness — but remember having spicy fat chewy tubes. Now I’m positive that was tteokbokki.
Suddenly I had to recreate this mysterious dish. A scouting trip with Guillaume to the biggest local Asian market looking for Korean ingredients was fruitless. We put the bag of long-expired rice cakes back on the shelf. I did more research and found that a Westword writer had undertaken a similar quest earlier last year. I also looked at a recipe published on Serious Eats and discovered Maangchi’s recipe for the dish but didn’t spot her helpful YouTube videos about going to a Korean grocery store in time.
Determined to make this very un-Alyssa-like recipe and actually find the anchovy stock powder that eluded the Westword writer, we set off for H Mart in Westminster, Colorado. We debated which gochujang to get, finally going middle ground with a medium level heat container. A woman giving out soup samples near the frozen foods section helped us find the anchovy stock powder and a package of frozen rectangular fish cakes, which she said could easily be defrosted in warm water and then sliced into triangles.
They did not have a small amount of the anchovy stock powder. The recipe from Serious Eats recommends stock powder and I didn’t feel brave enough to make my own using dried anchovies and dried kelp, the way Maangchi does. So I put the huge package in the overflowing basket.
Back at home, we combined the Serious Eats recipe with Maangchi’s. One tablespoon of anchovy stock powder in three cups of water produced a potent base that I ended up reducing in later versions. We also had delicious results using leftover homemade shrimp stock.
Sitting down nervously to eat this first attempt, a glass full of New Belgium Sunshine Wheat beer, I took a big bite. Within seconds, I had that familiar numbness.
Proceed with caution.
Spicy Korean Rice Cakes – Tteokbokki (“duck-bock-ee”)
Adapted from Serious Eats and Maangchi.com
Stock:
3 C. water
1 tsp. Korean anchovy stock powder
Sauce:
3 Tbsp. gochujang, medium level
1 Tbsp. gochugaru Korean red pepper flakes or 1 tsp. regular red pepper flakes
1 Tbsp. brown sugar
1 Tbsp soy sauce
The rest:
1 lb. rice cakes, ideally fresh from a Korean bakery
1 bunch of yu choi (optional)
3.5 oz. eomuk Korean fish cakes, cut into bit-sized chunks, or fish cake balls
3 small scallions or 1 bunch of fresh chives
Sesame seeds
2 hardboiled eggs, shelled (optional)
Boil water in a medium saucepan. Add rice cakes and boil for 3 minutes if fresh, 5 minutes for frozen. Drain and set aside.
Prepare optional hardboiled eggs. They are a central ingredient in the original Korean recipe and we added them the first couple of times initially. However, the texture is so similar to the other ingredients that we decided they can be optional. Up to you.
Mix the sauce ingredients together well in a glass bowl: gochujang, red pepper flakes, sugar, and soy sauce.
Thaw frozen fish cakes by putting them in a colander and running warm water over them. Cut a rectangular sheet into bite-size pieces.
If using, cut yu choi into 1-inch segments. Cut the green top off one of the scallions and then slice it on the diagonal to make a garnish. Cut the rest of the scallions into 2.5-inch slices. Cut white parts in half if they’re too thick. Alternatively, mince the fresh chives using kitchen scissors.
In a large nonstick pan, combine water with anchovy stock powder. Bring to a boil and stir until dissolved. Lower heat slightly to simmer briefly. Add the sauce mixture to the stock and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium again. Once the gochujang paste has dissolved, add the rice cakes and boil until soft, about 7 minutes. They should be soft and the consistency of mozzarella. Store-bought rice cakes will harden as they cool so keep them hot. This doesn’t happen with fresh ones from a bakery.
Reduce to a simmer, add cut scallions, fish cakes, and yu choi, if using. Stir to combine, then add the optional hard-boiled eggs. Be careful since sauce will stain clothes. Simmer for an additional 5 minutes or until the sauce is thick and glossy. To serve, sprinkle with sesame seeds, scallion or chives garnish, and enjoy with cold beer.
