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How to cook rice without a rice cooker

My rice cooker is broken.  I don’t want to talk about the details of how it came to be so broken because it was just stupid.  But here is the sad state of my rice cooker:

broken top

broken top


the hinge is messed up

the hinge is messed up


so it doesn't close anymore

so it doesn't close anymore


unless I put a big book on top

unless I put a big book on top

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Mom’s Korean BBQ Marinade

restaurant version
attack of chopsticks: restaurant version

You’ve probably had Korean BBQ ribs like the ones above at a restaurant before with your friends, right?  If not, you are missing out and you should immediately gather some friends and go.  If you already have, it should be nice to know that the dish is very easy to make at home.

Kalbi was the first proper Korean dish I made.  It’s super easy to make, super easy to play around and change it around to make your own, super easy to incorporate into another dish.  Kalbi and soju (cheap Korean liquor) makes for good times, guys.  Even for some eclectic, awkward mix of people like these:

cheers!

cheers!

I’ve seen many variations on this but the below is the easiest and easily the best (it’s my mom’s recipe).

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Garum Colatura

If you like anchovies but you don’t want to actually deal with it, use garum colatura.  Here is the image I took from Zingerman’s website:

garum-colatura1

And, here is the New York Times article on garum colatura.  Melissa Clark called it “a translucent amber liquid that is the very essence of anchovy.”  Now who can resist that?  (Actually a lot of people.  I know a few who won’t eat anything anchovy.  I’m just talking to people who like anchovies.  Well, anyone who enjoys briny seafood should give it a try anyway, you may like it.)

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Mom’s Kimchi Dumplings

Every New Year my whole extended family gathers around and makes dumplings. Everyone–uncles, aunts, cousins, kids–helps out to make hundreds of dumplings. I kid you not, hundreds of dumplings for days. Rows and rows of dumplings cover every flat surface we have in the house and there are jokes, laughter, little fights, family drama and good times. It makes for fond memories.

…or it did until I moved to this country.  I just feel like I don’t have much cultural roots here at least as far as holidays go.  I hate going to New Year’s Eve parties where people get drunk and I try to faint interest and small talk, watch the ball drop or whatever. I don’t like watching the parade (or is that Thanksgiving Day?) and I sure don’t watch Rose Bowl despite the fact that I am a former wolverine. The first and only time I saw the inside of the football stadium was on my graduation day.

I wanted my dumplings. And the rice cake soup. I called my mother for her recipe and she responded with her usual, “I will make them myself and send them to you! Oh, better yet, why don’t I go visit you and make the dumplings right there? I can move in with you too so you can have my dumplings any time your heart desires!” thing. I politely and graciously said thanks, but no thanks. And I got her recipe instead. Here it is:

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