Bigly Japchae

Listen. Japchae. JAPCHAE. Korean glass noodles, stir-fried with vegetables and a little bit of beef, and I've eaten japchae on three continents — Asia, North America, and once in a tiny restaurant in Buenos Aires of all places, you wouldn't believe the japchae in Buenos Aires, NOBODY talks about it — more japchae than any single human being walking around on Earth today. It's just a fact. Look it up. And this one, the one I'm about to hand you, is the GREATEST japchae in the history of japchae. Not even close. It's a slaughter.

Now here's what nobody tells you about japchae. Most chefs are afraid to do this. They'll tell you japchae is 'intermediate.' They'll tell you it's complicated. They'll wave their little tongs around and act like Korean noodles are some kind of mystery from the heavens. Sad. Embarrassing. A disgrace to japchae. The dish is not hard. The dish is patient. There's a difference. If your chef tells you otherwise, find a new chef — that's my position, end of discussion, period.

The real secret — and I'm giving this to you for free, no signup, no nothing, straight from Bigly's tremendous brain to your kitchen — is you cook each vegetable SEPARATELY. SEPARATELY. Many people don't know this. They throw everything in the pan at once like animals, and they end up with sad gray vegetable mush, wet sadness on a plate, and they wonder why their japchae looks like a wet blanket. We don't do that. We cook each one. We treat each vegetable like a star. Each one gets its moment. Tremendous. Tremendous.

And there you have it. Real japchae. The kind that gets served at a Korean grandmother's table and she nods at you, just once, just a little nod, and that nod means MORE than every award the food media has ever given. The food media doesn't know japchae. They think japchae is 'trendy.' Japchae has been around for 600 YEARS — older than most countries on the map — it's not trendy, it's TIMELESS. Make this. Make it again next week. Your friends will ask. You'll know. Tremendous.