Soup for Komachi

It's been a while. I just got back from spring break, which involved me eating my heart out in San Francisco. I may write about that later, or I may not, depending on how I feel. Today's feature food comes from before spring break, actually. In Korean, it's called miyeok guk (MEE-yuck-gook), or seaweed soup, miyeok meaning seaweed and guk meaning soup. Once again, be astounded at the utter creativity with which Koreans name their foods. After having written about kimbap not too long ago, I believe you're probably thinking, "wow, Korean people sure eat a lot of seaweed," and I won't contest that. It's good stuff. In Korean culture, the soup is believed to be good for pregnant mothers and mothers who have recently given birth, so many a woman has consumed it around the time of her child birthing, my mother included. In fact, she had so much that many years later, she still would prefer not to eat it too often. Because of its relation to birth, it's also traditionally eaten on birthdays. As mine is in a week, I figured this would be an apt post.

The title of this post refers to the infamous female poet, Ono no Komachi, from Japan's Heian period (794-1185). I will take a moment to write down one of her tanka, which is a form of Japanese poetry rather similar to the more well-known haiku. It is a five-line poem, the first three lines with identical structure to haiku; that is, with a 5-7-5 syllable pattern. The last two lines have 7 syllables each, which makes for a total of 31 syllables. Enough math, and on to the poetry! If you're not familiar with Japanese romanization, you'll just have to trust me that it follows the pattern.

mirume naki

wagami o ura to

shirane ba ya

karenade ama no

ashi tayuku kuru

The seaweed gatherer's weary feet

keep coming back to my shore.

Doesn't he know

there's no harvest for him

in this uncaring bay?

The translation comes from The Ink Dark Moon, translated by Jane Hirshfield with Mariko Aratani. It's a rather excellent anthology of works by Ono no Komachi and Izumi Shikibu. Although I could ramble on about the nuances of Japanese poetry, I will spare you and simply state that Japanese metaphor likens seaweed in water to a woman's beautiful, glossy, black hair.

At a stretch, the wonderful, velvety seaweed in this soup could be said to somewhat resemble hair, although I'd actually rather not be imagining that I'm dumping spoonfuls of hair into my eager mouth. I never understood how the green of seaweed could look black, but I suppose if you squinted your eyes a bit and it was dark out...

Anyway, on to the recipe, but since I just throw stuff in the pot, I don't have exact measurements. I'm estimating, so use your judgement if something seems off. You will need:

1/2 lb of beef brisket or flank

8-10 cups of water

3 or 4 cloves of garlic

1/3 cup of dried miyeok

1 Tbsp. soy sauce

1 Tbsp. fish sauce (optional)

salt, to taste

Put the meat and water into a medium-large pot and bring to a boil. Watch it closely as it's on its way to boiling because the blood in the meat likes to make a foamy mess that boils over when the water gets hot. As you start to see foam forming, scoop it out with a spoon. The foam gets more vigorous when the water gets hotter, so try to keep up. If the water looks like it's about to boil over, you can turn down the heat, which will pretty quickly stop the foam, and then you can resume boiling it when you've caught your breath and are ready to tackle the foamy beast once more. I exaggerate; it's not that bad, but that's no reason to get complacent and end up with a messy stove top.

After the water's been boiling for about 5 minutes, throw in the peeled garlic cloves, turn down the heat, and let the broth simmer for about an hour and a half. Check on the water levels every so often, and if much water seems to have evaporated, add more to the pot.

At the hour and a half mark, put the miyeok into a bowl with some fresh water. A third of a cup may not seem like much, but believe me, the stuff expands. The first time I made this soup, my dad warned me twice about its expanding capacity. When he was making it for my mom during her pregnancy (aww), he made the mistake of underestimating the power of miyeok to absorb water. I'm glad I noted his warning. Let the miyeok sit in the water for about half an hour, although it really only takes something like ten minutes for it to fully bloat up.

Before and after!

While your miyeok is soaking, remove the slab of beef from the broth and shred it. It's pretty hot when it first comes out, so I advise letting it cool off for a few minutes before handling it. Shredding's not too hard; just grab pieces and tear along the grain. Once all that's done, throw the shredded beef back into the pot, add the miyeok, and bring to a boil. Add in the soy sauce, fish sauce, and salt. Soup complete!

If you're not accustomed to its slimy-yet-chewy texture, you're in for a treat. It takes a bit to get used to, but once/if you do, it's rather comforting and pleasant. Try it out for the next birthday on your calendar or for the next woman you know who is facing childbirth! It's nutritious and delicious.