Nyesha is an expert at fusing food and place and then building narratives around that fusion. Most of her stories are about Los Angeles, which meant that I tried to pick an LA story also. That sparked a memory of the first time I visited California, back in the mid-eighties, and specifically a memory of Toddy Tee’s “Batterram,” an early hip-hop song about the LAPD’s use of a modified Army tank to break down doors in search of crack dealers. That’s a completely different kind of cooking, but that’s not why I picked it. To me, it was one of the first true signs that there was distinct a West Coast culture that wasn’t making its way back east unless people brought it.
When Korean mothers have to leave their families for a few days, they often make a big cauldron of beef bone broth so their husbands and children can survive without Mom’s cooking during her absence. It’s become kind of a joke in families, even depicted on Korean TV comedies—a mother is cooking up a big pot of bone broth, so her children and husband are worried. “Where are you going?”
I grew up eating Korean barbecue with my family only on special occasions, so this dish sparks many warm and fond memories for me. I wanted to re-create a version of Korean short ribs that also incorporated my love of South American and Middle Eastern flavors. The brightness of the chimichurri and the yogurt is a nice counterpart to the richness of the grilled short ribs.
Erin Jang has seen, first hand, the power of food as an expression of love. The child of immigrants from South Korea, Erin watched as her hard-working parents juggled several jobs alongside the demands of cooking hearty and delicious nightly meals. While Erin describes her homemade Korean meals as simple, it is aweinspiring to understand how some cultures interpret simplicity in food—by today’s standards, Erin’s daily multi-layered fare would be deemed a feast.
I learned the essence of American barbecue when I worked as a cook in Atlanta, and I still crave that sticky, smoky, tender meat. We capture those memories when we cook with this sauce at our restaurants. With sweetness coming from the brown sugar, kiwi, and pear, plus the sharpness from the onion, soy sauce, and garlic, this sauce has everything you need for barbecue with a Korean touch. I always give credit to my mom for this recipe because she showed me how to make it. Over the years, I’ve made some modifications to take it to the next level, but don’t tell her! She believes that I am still using the same recipe she taught me all those years ago.
This dish simply speaks to us—a recipe that uses traditional Korean flavors but with a preparation that is wholly American.