Korean food: a spice sensation taking Britain by storm

Judy Joo slides a piece of pork belly into a garlicky broth laced with soya bean paste and sets the timer for three hours. She’s cooking bossam, a classic Korean dish, or rather her version of it – simplified for western cooks.

It’ll be on the menu at her new restaurant, Jinjuu, which will open in London’s Soho in November; and she’ll be cooking it on her new television programme, Korean Food Made Simple, early next year.

With Michelle Obama tweeting her own kimchi recipe, and Gwyneth Paltrow cooking bibimbap on YouTube, Korean food is already a big deal in America and Korean barbecues have become staples in most American cities, where kimchi is the new miso.

Britain is lagging behind somewhat it seems.

Korean cuisine hasn’t penetrated British restaurant scene in the same way that Chinese and Japanese restaurants have, and even though London has some Korean restaurants they’re mostly student hang-outs, offering simple food at bargain prices.

“There are a number of reasons Korean food hasn’t make its mark here yet – the community isn’t as big here as it is elsewhere; plus South Korea hasn’t focused on tourism as much as it has in other countries. But things are changing,” says New Yorker Joo, who has Korean heritage.

^{Meaty marvels: dumplings cooked by Judy (PHILIP HOLLIS)}

A large part of the cuisine’s success in America is thanks to the rise in chef-owned Korean restaurants. Joo hopes to emulate this with her first restaurant venture.

Jinjuu, meaning “pearl” but also a play on her name, will offer something altogether smarter, funkier and more polished than any of the competition in the city so far.

“London is very diverse, and it’s a global city. The British are used to ethnic food, and they love their spices, so I know they will embrace these flavours,” she says.

“What you see is what you get with Korean food. It’s healthier than Chinese cuisine and more flavourful than Japanese. It’s punchy, lively, honest cooking — a bit like the people.” She shows this as she finishes off the pork: it is caramelised then sliced, wrapped in crunchy salad leaves and scoffed with a spoonful of pickled mouli and a slick of ssamjang sauce, which cuts through the rich meat a treat.

Korean cuisine might not quite have penetrated the wider consciousness yet but with dishes like this it should, and chefs are already using certain ingredients in their dishes — with kimchi at the top of the list.

The dish is Korea’s best-known food: fermented vegetables that are served with everything, and every Korean home has its own version.

It’s certainly out there in terms of flavour – sour, sweet, salty, bitter and spicy in equal measure.

There are hundreds of types, from the everyday which is made with radishes, to some made with sweet potato stems, mackerel and even ginseng. “Basically, you can kimchi just about anything,” explains Joo.

You can buy it from Korean supermarkets, safely vacuum- packed, and it’s also available online. It’s probably best not to try to make kimchi yourself, unless you have a dedicated fridge — it stinks out anything that makes contact with it.

However it is addictive – I find myself eating it with anything (and love it in a fish finger sandwich). “My mother taught me how to make kimchi – you’re not considered an adult until you learn how to make it. She adds oysters and radishes to hers,” continues Joo, as we scoop up a fiery forkful with another round of pork belly.

Joo didn’t always want to be a chef – she started her working life as a fixed income trader for Morgan Stanley, and she makes comparisons between Wall Street and the Michelin-starred kitchens she trained in.

“Both are white male-dominated hierarchical environments in testosterone-fuelled arenas where tempers boil and egos inflate,” she says. No prizes for guessing which Michelin-starred kitchen she spent most of her time in – Gordon Ramsay’s three-Michelin-starred Chelsea restaurant.

“Very few people love what they do on the trading floor; rather they love the lifestyle it makes possible. On the other hand people who work in kitchens are driven by passion and the satisfaction of creating something memorable,” she says.

Joo honed her executive chef skills post-Ramsay at a private members’ club, which she juggled with a burgeoning television career.

Her former head chef Andy Hales, and sous chef Jamie Garbutt, are coming with her to Jinjuu.

“London is crying out for good Korean food and this opportunity just came up. But Andy, Jamie and I had been talking about doing it for a while,” she says, as she spoons a mixture of crushed peanuts, muscovado sugar, salt and cinnamon onto a disc of soft dough, gathers up the edges rather like a Cornish pasty, then shallow-fries the pancakes (hotteok) in oil.

Both men have travelled to Seoul with Joo to undertake serious restaurant research; plus they’ve been immersed in the cuisine under Joo’s tutelage for three years.

“I’m addicted to gochujang (Korean chilli paste), and I’m pretty into kimchi – I’ve been making it for the last three years,” grins Hales. “But I look at things from a Western palate point of view. I’m a tempering influence on Judy – on the spicy stuff particularly.”

The hotteok pancakes taste a bit like a Chelsea bun, but crunchier, and nuttier – and I know which one I would rather eat.

Where (and how) to enjoy Korean food

Some of the UK’s most coveted gourmet street food vendors, such as Kimchi Cult, Busan BBQ and Galbi Bros have started to create a buzz about Korean food, with queues regularly snaking down the street for their bulgogi burgers and crispy Korean chicken.

If you are lucky enough to find a Korean restaurant, be prepared: Koreans love to share and dishes arrive all at once – sometimes up to 20 different bowls. But don’t worry, you order your own main course dish, usually made up of rice, porridge or dumplings – plus all the side dishes you can imagine.