{"id":180112,"date":"2023-09-21T19:39:47","date_gmt":"2023-09-21T19:39:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/hotworldreport.com\/?p=180112"},"modified":"2023-09-21T19:39:47","modified_gmt":"2023-09-21T19:39:47","slug":"the-amber-gleam-of-yakgwa-south-koreas-it-cookie","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/hotworldreport.com\/world-news\/the-amber-gleam-of-yakgwa-south-koreas-it-cookie\/","title":{"rendered":"The amber gleam of yakgwa, South Korea’s “it” cookie"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Eric Kim<\/strong>, The New York Times<\/em><\/p>\n

Once, when chef Junghyun Park was young, his cousin brought a piece of fresh honeycomb over to his house in Seoul.<\/p>\n

Park\u2019s mother cherished it, as fresh honey was coveted for its health properties in South Korea, and doled it out only when someone got sick. Stirred into a mug of hot water with a little ginger, the honey made fine tea. \u201cWe were drinking it almost like medicine,\u201d Park said.<\/p>\n

Perhaps no Korean dish represents the value of honey more than the ancient dessert yakgwa, a deep-fried honey cookie soaked in syrup. Yakgwa (\u201cyak\u201d means medicine and \u201cgwa\u201d means confection) is more than a vessel for coveted sweetness. It connects generations and tells the story of Korea\u2019s reverence for tradition and optimism for the future.<\/p>\n

Enjoyed since the Goryeo dynasty (918-1392), these treats have seen a resurgence in popularity in South Korea and beyond, thanks in part to videos on YouTube and TikTok, and Korean dramas like the Netflix series \u201cAlchemy of Souls.\u201d<\/p>\n

South Korea\u2019s \u201cGeneration MZ\u201d (a hybrid of millennials and Gen Zers) are the drivers of this new fixation on the past, more specifically young Koreans who call themselves \u201chalmaenials\u201d (a portmanteau of the words \u201chalmoni,\u201d meaning grandma, and millennial). This nostalgic generation has revitalized not only the culinary custom of yakgwa, but also the market for it.<\/p>\n

In South Korea, new boutique companies like Golden Piece and Jangin Hangwa are focused on selling yakgwa for modern tastes, with flavors ranging from the original ginger-honey to lavender, chocolate and even cookies-and-cream.<\/p>\n

It can be more difficult to get your hands on these cookies than it is to reserve a table at Tatiana at Lincoln Center, and demand has necessitated an online ticketing system known as \u201cyakketing,\u201d where eager yakgwa consumers place orders with independent businesses. Shops in Korea can sell out in 60 seconds.<\/p>\n

Koreans have long sought after yakgwa with this sort of enthusiasm. Kings of Korea\u2019s Goryeo dynasty even banned the making and eating of yakgwa because the popularity of its main ingredients — wheat, honey and sesame oil \u2014 created scarcity and sent prices soaring.<\/p>\n

Traditionally, yakgwa was served only on special occasions, such as festival days like Chuseok and Seollal, birthdays and at life\u2019s four rites of passage, known as gwan-hon-sang-je: coming-of-age (gwan), marriage (hon), death (sang) and the veneration of the dead (je), a custom which many families still practice today.<\/p>\n

The lesson is universal: Only in maturing through life do you get to partake in its richest pleasures.<\/p>\n

When Hyaeweol Choi\u2019s mother died in 2012, the funeral made her realize the power of gathering at life\u2019s critical junctures, including in death. Funerals are meeting points, said Choi, a gender historian and professor of Korean studies at the University of Iowa, where strong bonds are forged among relatives, both living and dead, who are otherwise \u201cscattered over time.\u201d<\/p>\n

A year later, Choi performed the fourth rite of passage for her mother in the form of jesa, which involves setting a large table with candles and a rich assortment of food and drink offerings for the deceased.<\/p>\n

If Choi\u2019s mother had a specialty, it was her encyclopedic knowledge of Korean ceremonial foods like yakgwa and how to present them. That\u2019s why the recent commercialization of the cookie, with its ubiquity among young people who respect the tradition enough to reinterpret it, has delighted Choi. \u201cFood evolves constantly, adjusting to new demands and new tastes,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Today, Koreans enjoy yakgwa outside of those rites of passage, like as an after-school snack or weekday dessert with vanilla ice cream. Korean restaurant Cho Dang Gol in Manhattan serves on-the-house packages of delicious mini yakgwa at the end of the meal with your check, like soft mints or sticks of gum.<\/p>\n

Still, a bite of homemade yakgwa tends to exceed anything store-bought, nine times out of 10. Since yakgwa is fried, the oil can go rancid in mass-produced packaged versions, so making the cookies from scratch is a quest worth pursuing. When fresh, the cookie\u2019s sticky, amber syrup should drip off slowly, drenching your fingers, like Winnie the Pooh\u2019s paw, in honey.<\/p>\n

While the chewy outside gives way, the crunchy interior resists slightly. (The YouTube star and cookbook author Maangchi uses the word \u201cjuicy\u201d to describe biting into fresh yakgwa.)<\/p>\n

This idiosyncratic dough is a tangle of flour, sesame oil, soju, honey and spices. In my yakgwa, ground ginger and cinnamon recall the gently sugared flavors of Korean staples like sujeonggwa, a refreshing cinnamon punch, and yaksik, a lovely sweetened rice with chestnuts, pine nuts and jujubes (a kind of red date).<\/p>\n

The crispy, flaky fried cookies are dunked in a glossy jocheong, a not-too-sweet Korean brown rice syrup, which here is boiled with chunks of fresh ginger and a little honey.<\/p>\n

In many ways, the frying is as easy as baking; your medium just happens to be a steady, simmering pool of oil, crowded with disks of dough. They puff ever so slightly to reveal their layers. Soaking crunchy cookie in gingery syrup requires patience, but that\u2019s all right. The sweetest things in life take time.<\/p>\n

Yakgwa comes in all shapes and sizes, depending on the mold, though the fluted flower shape may be the most common. In \u201cThe Korean Cookbook,\u201d written by Park, the chef who sips honey like medicine, and researcher and chef Jungyoon Choi, there\u2019s a recipe for a crispier, flakier variation of yakgwa in the form of rectangles. This style is emblematic of a rich food culture Park called a \u201chidden gem of Korean cuisine,\u201d from the city of Kaesong in North Korea.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course we cannot go there anymore,\u201d he said. But that doesn\u2019t mean there\u2019s not a connection. \u201cWe share the culture, we share the language and we share the food as well.\u201d<\/p>\n

Despite its ancient roots, yakgwa is hardly a time capsule. Like the city of Seoul, it\u2019s a living, breathing piece of tangible heritage. Iterating is what keeps it alive.<\/p>\n

Yakgwa (Honey Cookies)<\/h4>\n

By Eric Kim<\/p>\n

These not-too-sweet Korean honey cookies, fried and then soaked in gingery syrup, are uniquely soft and chewy on the outside and flaky on the inside. Called yakgwa (yak meaning \u201cmedicine\u201d and gwa meaning \u201cconfection\u201d), these treats originally from the Goryeo dynasty (918-1392) are seeing a resurgence in popularity from Seoul to the world, thanks to social media. Traditionally served on Korean festival days like Chuseok and Seollal, birthdays and ancestral rites like jesa, the anniversary of a loved one\u2019s passing, yakgwa are also an encapsulation of Korea\u2019s dessert history. At a time when sugar was not a main sweetener, sweetness was achieved with ingredients like rice syrup and honey, paired with ginger and cinnamon. Enjoy these on their own with a cup of tea or try them with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or whipped cream, which lends balance to the sticky sweetness. For a vegan option, the honey can be swapped with maple syrup for incredible results.<\/i><\/p>\n

Yield:<\/strong> 20 (2-inch) cookies<\/p>\n

Total time:<\/strong> About 27 hours<\/p>\n

Ingredients<\/strong><\/p>\n

For the cookies:<\/em><\/p>\n