From the Recipe Exchange files: Korean Fried Chicken

I’m sorry I don’t have a better picture of the Korean Fried Chicken we whipped up last week. It was so good — crispy, and sticky, and sitting under a warm Mexico City sun just begging to be eaten — that I only managed to snap one photo before digging in. And then licking my fingers. And then wondering: what the heck else can I put this sauce on? (It turns out, it also goes fabulously with grilled hot dogs.)

So yeah. Korean Fried Chicken. Crayton first told me about it last year, gushing when he got back from one of his New York City trips that he’d tried the best chicken ever. I vowed to search for it in Dallas, but promptly forgot about it, obsessing over quinoa and homemade bread and all the other things that fill my brain on a given day.

Then, a few weeks ago, I saw a Korean Fried Chicken recipe on the excellent Viet World Cooking blog. The chicken — thick chunks of thigh meat, fried until crispy, and then mopped with a sweet-and-spicy, sesame seed-studded sauce — sounded heavenly. It was my turn to host our recipe exchange anyway. I hit the Korean markets intending to buy two ingredients: red chile paste and toasted sesame seeds. I ended up buying both and a wee bit more.

So, the girls arrived last Wednesday afternoon and everyone brought something. Julie brought a warm spinach salad with goat cheese and balsamic dressing. Tricia brought a truly sinful brownie pie with Reese’s crumbles on top. Alice brought pickled cucumber and daikon. Daniela brought a fabulous green veggie dip with yogurt and cilantro, which I need to get the recipe for. And there was Rosé. And melty camembert drizzled with honey and topped with almonds. And Korean snacks that tasted strangely like cereal.

I’d already marinated the chicken for a few hours in grated onion and garlic, and so we munched and talked, and eventually created the thick, gluey batter. A few others made the chili sauce, using the paste, ketchup, sugar and lemon juice. (The lemons, a rarity in Mexico City, had been discovered that morning at Mercado San Juan.)

When it came time to fry it all up, Alice manned the pot of hot oil. Daniela oversaw batter-dunking responsibilities. The rest of us watched and ate more Camembert.

By the time the chicken was done, Alice and Daniela were sweating, and we’d set up our folding table outside, to eat on the terraza.

When we sat down — a platter of warm chicken in the center, and a big bowl of salad, and each of us with a small glass of Rosé — Alice said: “I feel like we’re on a cooking show!”

And that was really the nicest thing she could have said, because I did too. You know that part at the end of the show where everyone sits down and eats, and laughs and talks? I always feel a teensy bit jealous during that part, because it’s one of life’s pleasures to cook something in your own kitchen and then eat it surrounded by friends. Yet here we were. Each of us contributing, and each of us bringing something valuable to the world in our own way. I felt blessed to know so many smart, cool women.

Thankfully, the chicken was pretty darn amazing, too: spicy, with just a hint of sweetness. And covered in a thick, crackly crust.

Recipe below, if you’re interested.

Korean Fried Chicken
From Viet World Kitchen
Serves 7 to 8, depending on how large your thighs are (heh heh)
Note: We added a bit more liquid to the batter, since it was extra thick — think this was related to our high altitude. Otherwise we followed the recipe pretty much exactly.

8 chicken thighs, skin removed and sliced in half
1 onion, grated (I had to close my eyes for this one — the onion was insanely aromatic)
2 garlic cloves
scant 1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper

For the batter:
1/2 cup all-purpose bleached or unbleached flour
2/3 cup cornstarch
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 1/2 teaspoons sugar
3/4 cup cold water (ice it before measuring)

For the chili sauce:
6 tablespoons Korean chile paste (gojuchang)
6 tablespoons ketchup
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup toasted white (hulled) sesame seeds
2 to 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Combine your chicken, onion, garlic, salt and pepper in a bowl, and toss to coat. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside to marinate at room temperature for 1 hour. (I refrigerated mine for two hours.) You could also marinate it in the fridge overnight. Just be sure to let the chicken sit out for 30 minutes before frying, to remove the chill.

For the batter, combine the flour, cornstarch, baking powder, salt, pepper, and sugar in a bowl. Make a little well in the center and whisk in the water to create a thick, smooth batter. Stop whisking as soon as the ingredients have come together. It will seem somewhat gluey. Set aside.

For the chile sauce, stir together the Korean chile paste, ketchup, sugar, sesame seeds, and lemon juice. Taste and adjust the flavors as needed to arrive at a spicy-sweet-tangy finish. Set aside.

Pour the oil into a dutch oven to a depth of 1 1/2 inches. (Note here: the original recipe calls for a 5-quart dutch oven, but unfortunately I only have a 3 1/2 quart. It was fine, but the chicken did stick to the bottom just a wee bit; next time I’ll use more oil.) Heat over high heat to 350F degrees; stick a dry chopstick in and bubbles should immediately rise to the top and surround the chopstick. (Watch the oil carefully; ours jumped from 300 to 350 in a matter of seconds.) Meanwhile, pour off the liquid that has accumulated in the bowl of marinated chicken. Set the chicken, batter, and a platter lined with a triple layer of paper towels near the stove.

Fry the chicken in batches of about 6 pieces at a time; or, if you’re using smaller than a 5-quart pot, do about three or four. (The point is to not crowd the chicken.) Using chopsticks, two forks or wooden tongs, dip each piece of chicken in the batter, pausing above the batter to let excess batter drip back down. Gently drop the chicken into the oil and fry for 5 to 7 minutes, turning occasionally, until golden brown and crisp. Drain on the paper towel-lined platter. Repeat with the remaining chicken, adjusting the oil temperature between batches.

The crispy coating softens slightly during cooling so when all the pieces are done, increase the oil temperature to 375F and refry the chicken in batches for 30 to 60 seconds, until super crisp. Drain once more on the paper towel. (We didn’t do this, because we were too hungry.)

Alice’s kimchi recipe can be found here. She used daikons and small cucumbers.