Crispy nurungji rice
There are two things that have been a constant in my life, and both are so inextricably linked that I can’t bear to tear them apart: food and language. I say language rather than words, because although words are what I deal in everyday, it’s language that we’re really talking about. And isn’t food a language in and of itself? When you go to another country where you are the outsider, do you not communicate through food? Do we not grin whilst spooning yoghurt into our mouths coated with honey as we sit outside in the Greek heat? Have you never cried because the homemade pasta in the tiny trattoria made by nonnas was so good? (Just me?) Or had your eyes water through spice-spiked dumplings in a Chinese restaurant filled with locals, but in a great way? How about biting into the perfect croque madame in a Parisian bistro after your heart was broken and looking up at your waitress and realising she’s gone through the same soul-searing pain too?
Perhaps what I really mean to say is that food is language. It’s the ultimate voice of the heart, the soul and yes, the stomach. It’s why I love cooking (and eating) so much. And writing about it all. I started a newsletter in lockdown like every other writer in the world, under the assumption that no one would care about the ramblings of an unmeasured cook who thinks about food in the same breath as lust, heartbreak and friendships. Perhaps that’s why I called it Since No One Asked. Literally no one asked me to do this. Yet here I am, almost exactly a year later. Nearly 1000 subscribers. And a community of readers who take the time to not only read what is basically the inside of my head, but also to reply with mirrored experiences.
It feels good to know that I’m not the only one who relates to the perfect last bite (TLB, in case you missed it) or finds solace in pasta (always and forever). Now that our food experiences have been limited to our homes – or local parks, waterways or in alternative set-ups on friends’ doorsteps – we’re collectively experiencing a new language through food. Sewing up the social distance. Repairing broken relationships with cooking. Reimagining childhood meals. Sending food deliveries to friends. Enjoying family meals over Zoom.
Who knows if this unmeasured newsletter is something that keeps you entertained; if you learn a new recipe-not-recipe from it; or can make any sense of my dishes. I hope there’s something in here that makes cooking or eating a connective, emotional experience. For me, cooking, eating and writing about it all has made me realise how important it is. To cook a meal. To use your hands. To eat alone (and with friends, too). To write about it. To remember the small details. How food makes you feel. What it reminds you of. The people you were with. The realisations you came to. The marks it made your life (or hand, ICYMI).
Here’s to celebrating the one years, one months, one days. And the meals that make them.
Cat x
Rhetorical question: who doesn’t like buttery crispy rice on the outside and soft, umami-flavoured rice in the middle? I mean, obviously not me. I apologise to the vegetarians and vegans reading this, because this recipe involves chicken (it wouldn’t be an anniversary post without it). But traditionally, nurungji rice – which in Korean, 누룽지, loosely equates to scorched rice – just means any rice that has been boiled then roasted and leaves a scorched crust at the bottom of the pan. Think Persian Tahdig, but make it Korean. So you could definitely make this without roasting a chicken on top.
Full disclaimer: this is a version of Esther Choi’s recipe, so while I’ve made adjustments, I cannot take any credit for it!
Ingredients for two people:
For the chicken –
1 small whole chicken (around 1.3kg)
60 ml (or 1/4 cup) soy sauce
30 ml (or 1/8 cup) salt
60 ml (or 1/4 cup) sugar
250 ml (or 1 cup) water
juice of one lemon / lime
Whole peppercorns
For the rice –
1 cup white rice (preferably sushi rice for the sticky vibes)
2 shallots diced
4 garlic cloves diced
1 red chilli diced (optional)
1 thumb of ginger, grated (optional)
Knob of butter
For the salad –
Kale or cavalo nero, de-stemmed and roughly chopped
1/2 cucumber de-seeded, halved lengthways and cut into half rounds
3-4 spring onions thinly sliced into rounds
Black sesame seeds
1 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp sesame oil
Juice of half a lime
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp rice (or white) wine vinegar
So I’ve never brined a chicken and weirdly thought it required too much effort and planning, but it literally doesn’t and it makes a huge difference. So in a big mixing bowl, add the salt, sugar, soy sauce, citrus juice, water and a scattering of black peppercorns. Then place your chicken in the brine, making sure it’s all covered but sitting breast up (otherwise it gets a bit too salty there IMHO). Clingfilm the bowl then let it rest in the fridge for up to 24 hours. You’re also going to want to soak your rice in some water, but you could do this a few hours before.
Hot tip: I’ve started using surgical/latex gloves when handling chicken – especially when needing to soak it etc, as the salt can make your hands very dehydrated.
* 24 hours later and potentially a few glasses of wine later *
Drain the rice then add to another mixing bowl with all the shallots, garlic, chilli and ginger (if using). Cook the rice in water – I use a Donabe pot, but you can obviously use a normal pan – but just up until the grain still has bite. Add about 1.5 times the amount of water to rice (so it should be 1.5 cups vs 1 cup of rice). In the meantime preheat the oven to 200C, then spatchcock your chicken (take the back bone out – either side of the parson’s nose and all the way up).
Once the rice is cooked (ish), make sure it’s not too watery. If it’s still holding a lot of moisture, you can pop it in a sieve and press down to get some of that out. Or if you’re using a donabe like me, just let it rest for 10 minutes.
Heat a cast iron pan with a large knob of butter on a medium to high heat. Then add the rice, flattening it so it’s coating the bottom of the pan in a thin layer. Don’t move it round and wait until you start to hear a crackle.
Place the spatchcocked chicken on top of the rice. Roast in the oven for 1 hour on 200C, then bring it up to 220C for the last 15-20 minutes.
For the salad, add the fish sauce, sesame oil, honey, lime juice and vinegar to a jar and shake. Add seasoning to taste (I actually didn’t add salt as the chicken and rice are already quite salty, so this salad is more of an acid balancer for me). Pour over the kale, cucumber and spring onions then top with sesame seeds.
Enjoy over a crisp glass of white (or maybe orange?) wine, and would 100% recommend investing in like 100 jars of LaoGanMa chilli crisp and pouring it over everything. It will change your life, srsly.
Flo is one of those friends who you will ask you how your heart is in the same breath as discussing fourth wave feminism and a recipe for eggs. We met a few years ago after recognising each other’s names and realising we had a load of mutual friends. We’ve been talking about food, love, feminism and plant potting ever since. Flo is also the founder of Garner & Graze, London’s cutest grazing company. If Flo was a dish, she’d be a G&G box – all swirls of colour, texture and adorned with flowers.
As someone who is really vocal and supportive about ED recovery, what would you say is your food philosophy now?
I think it’s probably all food is good food and i live by eating what I want whenever I want it. Sometimes that’s pasta for breakfast and that’s totally ok. I spent years dieting and cutting out foods and just generally being weird around food and now I just eat everything (apart from coriander)
Imagine I’m coming round for dinner (can’t wait until this happens IRL). What are you cooking for us and more importantly what are we drinking?
OMG I cannot wait for this! Something low maintenance so we can talk loads. Burrata and sourdough + Perello olives for snacks, vodka pasta for the main with a radicchio salad and something chocolatey for pudding. On the drink list is negronis (i prefer mine with vodka) and lots of wine.
👆🏽A Flo-curated G&G box, just try and tell me it’s not the cutest
Can you give us a super simple recipe in a sentence?
Sourdough, butter, soft scramble, sliced spring onions + sugar snap peas, sriracha, chui chow chilli oil, pickled onions.
What do you always get in your grocery shop without fail?
Burford Browns, sourdough, butter, oat milk, instant ramen and lots of veggies! Oh and kinder buenos, i’m kind of obsessed with them at the moment.
Wondering how I can recreate this double egg, double cheese bagel situation.
Sometimes I just throw an avo into a salad. Now I will do this instead.
The Cut doing some of their best work again. The Mafia boss who brought himself down bc he couldn’t help but vlog his recipes?
All about this spring potato salad feat. pesto and crispy pots.
I never knew how to make a fluffy French omelette until now.
Just a dream kitchen kind of vibe over here.
Londoners, please just order from Dumpling Shack, you’ll never regret it
Have heard that Little Viet Kitchen’s Dishpatch send outs are unfathomably good. Must try.
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