Kong-juk (Soybean Porridge)

Kong-juk lives or dies before the pot ever comes to a boil. The soybeans must be soaked until they swell, boiled until their raw edge is gone, then peeled and ground smooth. Skip that work and the porridge tastes flat and coarse. Do it properly and the bean itself becomes the seasoning.

My teacher made us rub the skins off in water, handful by handful, without complaint. I complained in my face, which she saw. Of course she saw. She said, "눈동냥, 귀동냥," borrowing with the eyes and ears, and made me watch how the skins floated up while the beans sank. That is the small trick that saves half the labor.

This is not a porridge that asks for much money. It asks for time, a blender, a steady spoon, and restraint. Salt it lightly at the end so the soybean stays clear and nutty. Some families take a little sugar at the table, especially for children, but don't sweeten the whole pot. Let each bowl choose.

Write it down. Memory is a borrowed bowl. One cup of dried soybeans, half a cup of rice, and enough water to keep it loose, that measure will feed a small table and leave nobody guessing next summer.