To put it in other terms, a family member with no niche is evolutionarily useless. This is part of the reason why older siblings are typically more responsible and rule abiding, while younger siblings tend to be rebellious and defiant. Why should the younger sibling be exactly like the older one? You’d just be in danger of being a sad second-rate version of them. What was that you said? I have a younger sibling complex? I don’t have a complex… Pish posh……. Back to the subject at hand. That was the totally boiled down takeaway from this painful evolutionary psychology course I’m currently finishing up. But it does beg the question—in our very culinarily-inclined family, what’s my niche? Sarah’s the baker, my dad’s the butcher, and my mom’s the candlestick maker. Ha. Ha. Well my sister really is the baker, and maker of pasta, and my dad is the best with Cantonese cooking and big holiday things like prime rib and Thanksgiving turkey. Mom, of course, is solidly the queen of all things traditional Chinese. Well, my niche is probably Korean cooking. And pancakes. Hands down, I make the best pancakes in the family. Sarah doesn’t like to admit it, but it’s true. See that? NICHE. [Hello. It’s Sarah. I also happen to be the family’s resident Webmaster, so I’m putting together this post right now on Kaitlin’s behalf. And I must interject here to say: Let’s be real sister dearest, all we’re arguing about is whose choice of allrecipes.com pancake recipes is better. In the battle between “Good Old-fashioned Pancakes” and “Fluffy Pancakes,” Fluffy comes out on top every time. FLUFFFYYYY!!!!! Ok. Sorry. Back to the post.). With Korean food, my parents and sister have no idea how to do it. Ergo, they call on me to satisfy Korean food cravings. So in a nutshell: Yippee! I’m not evolutionarily useless! All that aside, this recipe for dubu kimchi is really tasty and simple. It’s served hot but with uncooked tofu. Sarah requests it all the time because, although it might sound weird to some, it’s completely awesome. You’ll need:
Recipe Instructions
First, make your rice! (I’m assuming you will be eating this with rice. It would be wrong not to). I recommend a half-and-half mix of white rice and brown—best of both worlds and a little bit healthier. While that’s cooking, gather yer ingredients.
Heat your wok or pan over high heat. See? Easy. The woks already on, and you’ve barely broken a sweat! Brown the pork belly—no oil needed!
Add the onions.
Once they start to turn a little bit translucent, add the kimchi—juice and all! This was a big jar, but it wasn’t full, so I used about 3 cups of kimchi.
Stir everything to combine.
Then add your rice cakes. If yours were frozen, rinse them first to break them up and soften them a bit. Don’t be a dingbat like me.
Make a little well in the pan, and then take two heaping tablespoons of the Gochujang (Korean red pepper paste) and plop it in the center.
Use your spatula to “cook” the paste and let it dissolve into the sauce. Then stir-fry everything until well combined.
Fill the kimchi jar with about a cup of water. Put the lid on, shake it around to pick up any peppery goodness that might have been left behind, and add it to the pan. If you find that the rice cakes are sticking to the pan, then you can add the water sooner rather than later.
Lower the heat to medium-high heat and cover for 5 minutes. This is to ensure that the rice cakes cook through. You’ll know they’re ready when they’re nice and chewy – kind of like al dente pasta. Only chewier. While that’s happening, slice your “regular” tofu or “soft” tofu in half lengthwise, and then slice each half into half inch slices. Half half half! I’ll wait for you to read that a second time… Finish everything off with a final stir and sprinkle with the sliced scallions.
Serve with the rice and fan out the raw tofu slices. Each bite should have some of the kimchi mixture, rice, and tofu. It’ll rock your world. Enjoy!
