Jjajangmyeon: Korean Black Sauce Noodles

Jjajangmyeon (짜장면) or Jajangmyeon (자장면) is a Korean noodle dish whose name translates roughly to "Fried Sauce Noodles." Sound familiar? Perhaps you recall Zhajiangmian, the Chinese dish with the same translation. This dish is generally considered to have evolved from the Chinese recipe, but however similar the names are, the Korean version took a few detours along the way and the results are significantly different.

The very first important thing to understand, is that Korean-style fermented black bean paste must be used in order to get the correct flavour and texture. Don't try to use a Chinese black bean sauce or paste - it will not be the same. What you want is a smooth fermented black bean paste called chunjang (춘장).

There's a bit of chopping involved, but once your mise en place is, well, en place, the recipe comes together very quickly. You have some leeway with the vegetables used in the sauce: onion is essential, white radish (Korean joseon radish or daikon) is an almost universal choice, and cabbage, zucchini, - even potato! - are also frequent choices. You can add celery, mushroom, carrot - really, the choice is pretty much up to you. It's all going to get coated with a thick, black sauce in the end, so use whichever firm vegetables you like.

Like its precursor, Jjajangmyeon is usually based on pork, and in this case I'm using pork belly, although any marbled cut could suffice. However, the beauty of Jjajangmyeon's versatility is that you don't actually need meat at all. I've included portobello mushroom in my vegetable mixture, and you could easily replace all of the pork in this recipe with the mushroom. It's really up to you. (Because the pork belly is the only animal-derived product in this dish, if you opt to switch it out for the mushroom, your resulting dish will actually be vegan.)

What kind of noodles? If you can get Korean noodles specifically for Jjajangmyeon, go for those, obviously, but you can also use fresh ramen, udon, or even instant ramen, in a pinch. Wheat-based noodles are standard, but if you need to use rice noodles instead, I won't tell.



Jjajangmyeon

Adapted from The Woks of Life

Serves 4

3 tablespoons canola oil, divided
1/2 pound pork belly, diced small
1 1/2 cups small diced daikon or Korean radish
1 medium yellow onion, diced small
2 tablespoons finely diced fresh ginger
1 1/2 cups small diced zucchini
1 portobello mushroom, stem and gills removed, diced small
1/2 cup of chunjang, Korean black bean paste
2 1/2 cups water, divided
Cornstarch slurry (2 tablespoons of potato starch or cornstarch, stirred into 1/2 cup cold water)
1 teaspoon sesame oil
1/2 teaspoon sugar (optional)
1-2 teaspoons rice vinegar (optional)

4 servings freshly cooked noodles

Garnish:
julienned cucumber
sliced danmuji (yellow pickled daikon radish)
raw sliced onion

For goodness sake, make sure your prep is done. You won't have time to chop-and-drop this one. Set a pot of water on to boil for the noodles, too.

In a wok or large skillet (I used my 30cm/12" nonstick skillet), heat a tablespoon of the canola oil over medium-high heat, and add the pork (if doing a vegan version, add all the mushroom at this point). Stir it into a single layer, and fry it for a few minutes, until it gets golden and renders some of the fat away. Add the radish and ginger and stir it through, and let it fry for about a minute before adding the rest of the vegetables. Give them a quick stir, and then cook for another two minutes, stirring occasionally. The vegetables will give off some liquid that will help keep them from sticking to the pan, but if they are sticking anyway, lower the heat a bit. When the onion is translucent, clear a space in the middle of your pan/wok, and add the remaining two tablespoons of canola oil. Let the oil heat up (about 10-15 seconds) and then add the chunjang. Use a wooden wok tool or spatula to fry the chunjang in the pool of oil in the centre of your pan for about two minutes (it might start to stick a bit, which is fine, just scrape it free with your spatula). This stage cooks the bitterness out of the black bean paste, so take your time - and lower the heat if necessary to keep it from burning.

After the two minutes of frying the black bean paste, stir it into the surrounding vegetables until they are all evenly coated, and then add 2 cups of water (room temperature is fine). Stir through again, scraping up any stuck bits, and then bring the mixture to a gentle boil. Reduce the heat to medium and put a lid on. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the pork and the vegetables are tender. You can use the cooking time to cook the noodles, so that they're ready when the sauce is.

After the 10 minutes, mix up the cornstarch slurry, and add it to the skillet, stirring constantly as you add it. It will thicken the sauce almost instantly, but stir and cook it for a couple of minutes longer, to make sure there's no raw flavour from the starch. Taste, and if there is still a bit of bitterness, you can add the 1/2 teaspoon of sugar. You can also add a splash of rice vinegar, if you want it tangy. If it has thickened too much, you can add a few tablespoons of room temperature water to loosen it back up.



Stir in the sesame oil, and divide the sauce between four bowls of freshly cooked, hot noodles. Garnish with the raw and pickled vegetables, and tuck in immediately.

Stuffed Turkish Peppers & Sultan's Chickpea Pilaff

The long, pointed, bright green peppers used extensively in Turkish cuisine have quite a number of excellent uses. They are mild enough to chop into salads (while still being more interesting a flavour than green bell pepper), but can be added to pilaffs, stews, casseroles, and pasta dishes with a certain wild abandon. They also bake up beautifully when stuffed.

A lot of stuffed pepper recipes are based on (or incorporate) rice, or some other grain into the stuffing mixture. These peppers are so narrow, though, that I decided to make a filling that was just seasoned meat - lean, to account for minimal shrinkage in the oven - and serve the rice on the side.

Stuffed Turkish Peppers

Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F, with a rack in the middle.

8-10 pointed Turkish peppers (such as Charleston/Çarliston Biber)

Prepare a mixture of meat and seasonings...you could use pretty much any meatball recipe you like, though. This is the one I used:

500 grams lean ground beef
1 large egg, beaten
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper
1 teaspoon dried oregano
3 cloves garlic, pressed
1/2 cup parsley, divided

Wash the peppers and lay them on the cutting board. Slice off a strip along the top, going about halfway to two thirds of the way down each pepper, and use a spoon or paring knife to carefully remove as many of the seeds as possible. Take up about a tablespoon of the raw meatball mixture, and use your thumbs to push it into the hollow of each pepper pod, pressing the filling gently down into the pointed end as much as possible.



Lay the peppers in a shallow baking dish (or baking sheet with sides). Brush with a little canola oil to give them a sheen (optional).

I had more filling than peppers, so I simply made the remaining filling into some large meatballs, and placed them at the end of the tray full of peppers.

Bake the peppers, uncovered, for 30 minutes, and serve warm with yoghurt sauce, feta, and toasted pine nuts.



While the peppers are baking, you can make the pilaff and the yoghurt sauce (timing works best if you've already done the prep for the pilaff before putting the peppers in the oven, and toast the pine nuts):

Sultan's Chickpea Pilaff

Adapted from The Turkish Kitchen, by Ghillie Başan

Serves 4

200 grams (1 cup) basmati rice, washed
220 grams cooked chickpeas, rinsed (approximately 1 400 gram can, drained)
1 tablespoon butter
1 small onion, minced
300 mL (1.25 cups) chicken stock or broth (from concentrate is fine)
ground white pepper to taste

Rub the chickpeas and discard any skins. In a medium saucepan with a tight-fitting lid, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the minced onion, and stir and cook until translucent but not browned. Add the rice, and stir it about so that each grain gets some of the butter on it. Add the chickpeas, broth, and a bit of white pepper (a 1/4 teaspoon should do it). As soon as the mixture is bubbling, turn the heat to the lowest setting, put the lid on the pot, and let cook undisturbed (no peeking!) for 15 minutes. Then, still without lifting the lid, remove the pan to a cool burner (or completely off the stove on a heatproof pad) and leave undisturbed for another 15 minutes. Then you can open the lid and fluff the rice up to redistribute the chickpeas throughout the rice (they have a tendency to migrate to the top of the pot).

Yoghurt Sauce

This is the same sauce that I use for Çılbır

150 grams plain thick yoghurt
1 clove garlic, minced or pressed
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley (or dill, or mint)
1/2 teaspoon olive oil
1/8 teaspoon kosher or coarse sea salt

Stir together in a small bowl.

Assemble however best you see fit.

These heat up beautifully the next day, but are also delicious cold or at room temperature.

Couscous Lunch Boxes - Lazy Lunch Prep

One Cup of Couscous = 4 lunch boxes.

I admire the folks who assemble beautiful identical lunch boxes on the Sunday evening to set them up for the first four (or five) days of their work week. This doesn't really suit me for a few reasons. One, I'm not inclined to eat the exact same thing every day, no matter how delicious, and two, even if I were so inclined, our tiny German fridge simply doesn't have room for this many packed lunches at any given time - even for one person, let alone two. I also try to use up any cooked meats within three days of cooking (unless it's going into the freezer). My packed lunches need to be cold or room temperature, as I do not have access to a microwave or stove at work.

In the spirit of planning a bit ahead and also using up foods already on hand or leftover from the previous night's dinner (not to mention avoiding the canteen at work), I had the idea that I could prepare a base of flavourful couscous on Sunday night, and then portion it out over the following four days. While you'll see a certain amount of repetition in the ingredients, each box was different enough from its predecessor to feel like a completely different meal.

I started by making my standard fluffy couscous base, which takes about 5 minutes active time, plus 15 minutes inactive:

Couscous Base

1 cup dry couscous
1.25 cups boiling water
1/2 teaspoon coarse salt, divided
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon paprika powder (check that it's not stale)

In a large container (preferably one with a tight-fitting lid), add the dry couscous, half the salt, and the paprika. In a small bowl, stir together the lemon juice, olive oil, and the other half of the salt. Basically, you're making a vinaigrette of sorts. Stir it well until it emulsifies, for the best effect. Pour the vinaigrette over the couscous, and stir quickly with a fork until every grain is coated with the lemony oil mixture. Add the boiling water and stir quickly to distribute the grains of couscous evenly, and then cover tightly. Wait for 15 - 20 minutes, remove the lid, and marvel at how easily the couscous grains fluff up when you stir them with a fork. Let the couscous cool, and store in a sealed refrigerator container.

Lunch Box #1 - Monday

Couscous, baked chicken thigh (curry seasoning), finely diced cucumber, tomato, yellow bell pepper, and spiced sweet potato coins with a bit of sliced green onion.

The chicken and sweet potato were leftovers from Sunday dinner. The bone and skin were removed from the chicken. You can't actually see the bottom layer of couscous, but it's definitely there!





Lunch Box #2 - Tuesday

Couscous, Berbere-spiced chickpeas, diced tomatoes, diced cucumber, crumbled feta, sliced avocado.

In the morning, I opened a tin of chickpeas and extracted half of them. The rest were transferred to a refrigerator container, along with their liquid. I rinsed the chickpeas, and then quickly sauteed them in 1/2 teaspoon olive oil and a 1/2 teaspoon of Berbere spice mixture. I spread out the couscous in the bottom of the box, and scraped the seasoned chickpeas into one side before filling in the rest of the ingredients. I let the box cool before closing and stashing in my work bag.





Lunch Box #3 - Wednesday

Couscous, boiled egg, diced yellow bell pepper, avocado, and spiced sweet potato coins.

The egg was boiled up the night before and stashed in the fridge overnight. In the morning, I peeled it quickly with a spoon, and cut it before putting it in the box. The spiced sweet potatoes are continued use of leftovers from Sunday's dinner. You can actually see the bed of couscous in this one!

This box was full of delicious things, but in combination it was a bit dry. A bit of sauce or dressing would have made a big difference, which I will keep in mind going forward.




Lunch Box #4 - Thursday 

Couscous, Caribbean-curry-spiced chickpeas, finely diced cucumber, yellow bell pepper, crumbled feta, spiced sweet potato coins with sliced green onions, and diced dried apricots.

These chickpeas were done quickly in the morning, using the other half of the can of chickpeas I'd opened on Tuesday, and opting for a spicy Caribbean curry powder for the seasoning. The other items we've seen in previous boxes, but the one special ingredient here was the diced dried apricots which lent a wonderful fruity sweetness that went very well with the curried chickpeas. The inclusion of the apricots made this final box feel a bit special.



By Friday, I was ready for something entirely different, and had a homemade bento with Japanese rolled omelette with yakionigiri and gingered carrot coleslaw. But that's another type of lunch, for a different type of post.

This was not a completely effortless scenario - each day I had a couple of small tasks to pull the day's box together - but having the couscous waiting for me did inspire me to make good use of my leftovers, to vary my ingredients, and motivated me to actually do it.