Once upon a time there was a recipe in the New York Times for fish. I was missing ingredients and already making substitutions and omissions but I did sort of intend to follow along, mostly. And then as I was going, I forgot the garlic altogether, added too much of it when I did remember and cooked the whole sauce (never the intention with that recipe) to mellow out all of that garlic I’d added too late. I basically screwed the whole thing up.
I didn’t end up with anything like the intended recipe but I ended up with something tasty. A sticky chili paste, sunset red. The paste and oil separated and I didn’t mind a bit. But then the paste part got clumpy—almost too hard to eat. Of course I managed to eat it. It was delicious. I was like chewing on taffy except not sweet and it was super-spicy so it was like the taffy of my dreams. I didn’t think that was going to be a big hit with you though. This was no prince of hot sauces. It wouldn’t be what you reach for to save you from a boring meal.
Until one day… I added way more oil in trying to save this garlicy, delicious, spicy something by tweaking it. And suddenly there was…gochuhang oil. ON EVERYTHING. On grilled lamb. On dumplings. On plain white rice. On scrambled eggs, on delicate poached eggs, before you spear the yolk with toast. In all the places you want gochjang to trickle down and stain but it can’t because it’s too thick, gochujang oil goes.
You can sit with that for a moment and then you must make this. If you want to have gochujang oil in your life or to live happily.ever.after.
The end.
Plus a recipe.
This story and the recipe that goes with it can be found in “HEAT”, ISSUE 006 of Le Sauce Magazine! Please get it here: http://www.lesauce.com/app