Super storm Jupiter is gone. It’s gorgeous out. It’s Super Bowl day, folks!
It’s also that time of the year when Mr. Chi-Town happily finds yet another reason to fire up any grill. Weber, satay grill, fajita cast iron skillet, you name it. It’s an American ritual, and it’s fun. It kind of reminds me of Malaysia: Those times when the football games would be playing live on TV. Families and neighbors from all backgrounds would congregate with curry puffs, mee goreng, fried chicken, salty groundnuts what not. Chilled Tiger beer was a must if you factor in the Chinese and Indian guys. The Malay guys and my dad would content with homemade sweet iced tea. They all had one thing in common– they were all LOUD.
But there’s a difference between American football and the Malaysian football. Even though they call it “football” here in America, I noticed that the players mostly use their hands instead of their legs unlike their Malaysian counterparts. Why call it football? But that’s our *America*, a land of linguistic idiosyncrasies.
Back to Super Bowl food. I had a grandiose idea. I thought “galbi.” Instead of using an authentic hot stone or the Weber (it’ll be a crazy messy), I thought of using a griddle (a present by my dearest son-in-law.) In fact, I thought “Hey, if fajitas can come out nicely caramelized in this little thingy, why can’t galbi?” Griddle-ing did work after all. Take a look. Tell me. What do you think, folks?
First, you’ll need some beef short ribs cut like this.
Go to any Asian grocery store or find your favorite butcher in the world. Make friends with him or her. (So says Mario Batali.) If the short ribs have already been sliced like this, good for you. If not, ask your butcher to cut the ribs just like so. Because it was our first time looking for this type of cut, it took us about 5 minutes to explain to our butcher in detail (complete with gestures and all) exactly how we’d like the ribs cut. After listening to us attentively, our master butcher went “Aah, flanken-style short ribs?” Well, let’s just say we learned something from the meat guru himself that day. Flanken-style short ribs-eh. Sounds fancy, doesn’t it? Nice to meet you, Flanken, on As it cooks. 🙂
As you can see, our butcher did a wonderful job. Seriously, the ribs look really nice and really meaty.
Next, you’ll need the star ingredient for this recipe: Gochujang. Basically it is a fermented Korean condiment/sauce/paste. Here’s the story. During a recent visit to a particular Korean-American coffee house in the Great Plains, I had the privilege to “thah pau” (it’s a common slang used in Malaysia meaning “take-out”) a couple of samples of the gochujang sauce — thanks to the friendly waiter. Before hitting Route 66, I bought a gochujang sauce at a local grocery store out of sheer curiosity. Based on our taste-test on the two types of gochujang, the complexity of spicing and the consistency may vary. Suffice to say, there’s a vast difference between the two. If you are a gochujang aficionado, you might very well know the reason. Or even what makes a darn good gochujang. Being a newbie to gochujang myself, I sense that it all depends on who makes it, how it is made, and where one gets it from.
For a start, let’s study the two sauces illustrated below. 
Now tell me. Which one do you think is from the coffee house and which one’s store-bought? Any thoughts?
Super Bowl time here in the Great Plains, folks. Got to go. Mr. Chi-Town is getting all worked up. I’m going to jump in. Be a part of the NFL frenzy. Go gaga with galbi.
Of course, As it cooks and I will be back. In the meantime, let’s unpack this topic on gochujang. If you are a gochujang guru, give us a tip or two. If you aren’t one (like me), the least you can do is return to the last illustration on this blog and figure out which is from where. And perhaps why you think so.
Joyfully,
Tee