Welcome to my new blog! Thank you to those who have been following me all these years. I moved domain names because I had reached the ceiling of memory capacity for Blogger and hence I created the sequel -- I continue to eat my way through Los Angeles and beyond and sharing hidden gems and giving an objective (ha) look at hyped spots. Hope you will take the time to follow me and sign up for updates. Happy eating!
Behold this beautiful...root. Ok, roots aren't necessarily on my top list of comfort foods I crave when I'm away from Korea but these roots were special. They are called deodeok and translated as codonopsis lanceolata, according to my nifty electronic dictionary. I'm not making this up. The truth is, some of the best greens and roots found in Korean cuisine don't have the most user-friendly English names.
Behold this beautiful...root. Ok, roots aren't necessarily on my top list of comfort foods I crave when I'm away from Korea but these roots were special. They are called deodeok and translated as codonopsis lanceolata, according to my nifty electronic dictionary. I'm not making this up. The truth is, some of the best greens and roots found in Korean cuisine don't have the most user-friendly English names.
Deodeok is also very labor intensive to prepare and difficult to make well. You have to peel and clean the roots, shred them, pound them until very soft, season with a spicy, salty and slightly sweet sauce and ideally grill on charcoal. It's very rare that restaurants serve a good version of this root, and I've also tried making it at home to dry results. This is why I was so stoked when I popped one into my mouth. The roots were so tender and perfectly seasoned and cooked without any dryness. Thumbs up.
I was at Odaesan Tongil Shikdang (오대산통일식당), located right outside of Woljeong Temple's gate in Kangneung Province in South Korea's northern east coast.
The super healthy meal came with a bunch of greens like dooreup that is rarely served in restaurants in LA. They were so fresh and not overly salted. Just blanched and seasoned with salt, minced garlic, sesame oil and sesame seeds.
Another welcome addition to the meal was dotorimook, acorn jelly blocks topped with a soy sauce and red pepper flakes sauce sprinkled with sesame seeds. The acorn jelly blocks themselves are on the mild side, so they make a great combination with the salty sauce with a slight kick. They are a local specialty, alongside the roots mentioned above, and we lucked out because they both happened to be in season. Score.
Korean foodies have often said that the true sign of a serious restaurant is its banchan, the side dishes, but more specifically its pickled variety, known as jjang-ajji in Korean. Koreans pickle everything from raw garlic to cucumber to perilla leaves. Thankfully, this restaurant was indeed serious. It offered not one but two pickled side dishes -- one of Korean peppers and another is garlic leaf, which is one of my favorite greens in the world. They were both salty, garlicky and delightful.
Duenjangjjigae is the essence of Korean food. It is fermented soy bean paste stew and not the most photogenic of soups. But that's ok because it is the ideal accompaniment to this rustic meal. Again, many restaurants and cooks, for that matter, are supposedly judged by the quality of their fermented soy bean paste (yes, because they make it from scratch, unlike mere mortals like us). I approved of this version, chock-full of chunky zucchini and tofu blocks.
I can't say the same about their potato pancakes, known as gamjajeon, as they weren't potato-y enough. I mean, the region is also known for potatoes (hence potato booze sold everywhere) but what's up with the doughy-tasting potato pancakes? They're like potato latkes but grated finer, almost minced.
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