Sukju-namul (Seasoned Mung Bean Sprouts)

Sukju-namul lives or dies in the minute between raw and overcooked. Mung bean sprouts look sturdy in the market basket, white stems and tiny yellow leaves tangled together, but they give up faster than soybean sprouts. Drop them into water that is already boiling, count seventy-five seconds, then get them out. That is the dish.

This is the pale banchan that makes the rest of the table cleaner: a small mound beside rice, a spoonful tucked into bibimbap, something cool and nutty next to a hot stew. Season it alone in its own bowl. Garlic, salt, sesame oil, scallion, sesame seeds. Nothing loud. If you season it as part of a crowd, you won't hear what the sprout is doing.

My teacher made us drain it until no water sat in the bottom of the bowl, then she would point at the puddle without speaking. I learned quickly. Water steals the seasoning, and too much garlic bullies the sprout. 손맛 is real; I measure it anyway, because the difference between a clean namul and a tired one is often half a teaspoon.