Korean Oxtail Soup

When it rains in Los Angeles, oxtail soup is inevitable for this Korean gal. Quiet and deeply comforting, it simmers for hours, filling the space with a steady, almost grounding aroma. I love having Korean oxtail soup on the stove for hours, just as much as I enjoy the meal itself.

All ceramic bowls were wheel-thrown and glazed by me.

INGREDIENTS

[Serves 4 to 5 with rice]

two pounds of oxtail

seven garlic cloves, peeled

two large green onions for cooking + two large green onions for serving

a half yellow onion, quartered

one hundred and thirty fluid ounces of water

Prepare the oxtails by soaking them in cold water, fully covered, for one hour. Drain the water and soak the oxtails again in fresh water for thirty minutes. Drain and rinse. Soak the oxtails again in water, add seven garlic cloves, and let them sit for another thirty minutes to help reduce any strong odors. Drain the water and discard the garlic cloves.

In a stock pot, add the oxtails, two green onions, the yellow onion, and one hundred fluid ounces of water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, keeping the pot covered and skimming any impurities that rise to the surface. Reduce the heat to low and maintain a gentle simmer, keeping the pot covered. After ninety minutes, skim the fat from the top. Continue to simmer over low heat with the pot covered for another ninety minutes, then skim more fat from the top.

Add thirty fluid ounces of warm water and let it simmer for another ninety minutes with the pot covered. Skim more fat from the top and continue to simmer over low heat with the pot covered until the meat is tender and pulls easily from the bone. The total time on the stove is about seven hours. Serve the oxtail soup with diced green onions and sea salt on the side to add to the soup, along with rice and kimchi.

_____

More recipes:

Soondae et Kimchi Strozzapreti

Green Tuna Salad Sandwich

Honey French Toast

Shrimp Scampi Orzo

Surf & Turf Fried Rice

Comments

Style Capsule: All Things Denim

Denim is French in name, Italian in early use, and American in myth. The word itself is French, a contraction of serge de Nîmes, the sturdy twill woven in the southern city of Nîmes. Denim began as geography stitched into cloth, a textile defined not by attitude but by endurance. Long before it was runway shorthand or rebellion’s uniform, similar hard-wearing cotton was used by sailors in Genoa. The French called the city Gênes. From that mispronunciation came “jeans.” They were work trousers then—sun-faded, salt-stiffened, cut for labor rather than legend. Photo by Maude Frédérique Lavoie on Unsplash America, however, does not leave cloth alone. In the 19th century, riveted denim trousers became standard issue for miners and laborers in the West. Utility was reinforced with copper. Durability became design. And somewhere between gold dust and railroad tracks, fabric turned into folklore. Hollywood later burnished it into masculinity. Counterculture tore it open and called it free...

Jeju Linguine al Nero di Seppia: Gochujang Squid Pasta

Off the southern coast of the Korean peninsula lies Jeju Island, a place where the sea shapes both livelihood and cuisine. Among its prized catches is Jeju squid, known for its clean sweetness and tender bite—qualities that have long made it a favorite in Korean kitchens. Whether grilled over charcoal or gently simmered in spicy stews, Jeju squid carries the unmistakable flavor of the surrounding waters. This dish brings that ingredient into a conversation between two culinary traditions. Linguine al nero di seppia, the Italian pasta tinted black with squid ink, becomes the canvas for a sauce layered with Korean flavors. The foundation begins with olive oil, onion, and garlic, followed by white wine and tomato paste that deepen in color as they cook. Then comes gochujang, whose fermented heat introduces the unmistakable character of Korean cooking. Ceramic bowl has wheel-thrown and glazed by me What makes the dish sing, however, is its balance. The richness of butter softens the intens...

Korean Gal's Guatemalan Red Beans with Pork Spare Ribs

Full transparency. I am afraid of pressure cookers. It is a fear instilled in me by my mom, a quiet but effective deterrent meant to keep me at a safe distance—especially when the pressure is being released. Reasonable? Perhaps. I would consider a therapist, but it has been years since I have needed one. Ceramic bowl was wheel-thrown and glazed by me. When I saw the Pressure Cooker Guatemalan Red Beans with Beef Short Ribs recipe in The World Central Kitchen Cookbook: Feeding Humanity, Feeding Hope , I knew I had to make a version of my own—one that did not require a pressure cooker. I also wanted the ingredients to feel simpler, more accessible. More importantly, I wanted the dish to center the red beans, rather than have them overshadowed by the richness of beef short ribs. This is not a bean stew, but a slow braise—one that relies on the gradual release of moisture from the ingredients themselves. So, changes were made—and thus, the name: Korean Gal’s Guatemalan Red Beans with P...

Summer Capsule: Flip Flops et Sandals

Flip-flops and sandals once lived at the margins of style—practical, unassuming, and rarely invited into conversations about taste. They belonged to errands, beach days, and the quiet acceptance of comfort over consideration. To wear them beyond those boundaries felt, at best, indifferent and, at worst, careless. Kāʻanapali Beach, Maui Something shifted. What was once dismissed as too casual began to be reexamined through a different lens—one that values restraint over excess. Designers pared them down to their essentials, and in doing so, revealed a kind of clarity: clean lines, deliberate simplicity, and an ease that resists overthinking. In a landscape saturated with structure and embellishment, sandals and flip-flops offered something quietly radical—absence as intention. Now, they move with purpose through spaces that once excluded them—paired with tailored trousers, anchored beneath sharp silhouettes, and integrated into wardrobes that understand proportion and balance. They no l...

Lost in Gender Identification & Sexuality

Nearly 500 anti-LGBTQ+ bills have been introduced in state legislatures so far this year, according to the Associated Press, with at least 17 states passing laws that restrict or ban gender-affirming care for transgender minors. At a time when cases of gender dysphoria among adolescents are drawing heightened attention, the question of gender-affirming care has become less a matter of human dignity and more a battlefield of political polarization. The word intolerance has lingered in my mind since the night Mr. Donald Trump won the presidential election in 2016. It was a heartbreaking moment to watch 62,985,106 Americans cast their votes for a man whose rhetoric toward minorities and protected classes had so often been steeped in hostility. Nearly 46 percent of American voters supported him, delivering 306 electoral votes and the presidency. Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash Nearly seven years later, perhaps we should not be surprised that LGBTQ+ communities are increasingly frame...

ChatGPT, Where Is Your Ethics?

It was about a month ago when I first thought of writing about artificial intelligence and its lack of intelligence. I had several ideas for the title, one of them being “Where Is the Intelligence?” I was furious that day after realizing that ChatGPT had failed, and a month of editing work had to be reviewed and possibly corrected for spelling, grammar, punctuation, and language mechanics. Takashi Murakami at The Broad, March 2026 The honeymoon phase was over. How does one miss spelling, grammar, punctuation, and language mechanics errors when assigned editing tasks? It was a costly lesson for me in trusting that an AI would consistently apply the basic tasks of editing, which include copy editing: correcting errors in grammar, punctuation, and spelling. I didn't question it because it included corrections of grammar, punctuation, and spelling at times. I didn't realize that it wouldn't consistently deliver the work. Consistency in work. Isn't that what we expect fr...

Korean-Inspired Short Rib Udon

This stir-fry is what happens when comfort overlaps. Udon for its quiet sturdiness, the way its thick strands absorb sauce without collapsing. Short ribs because richness belongs in a proper noodle dish. Baby broccoli because it is sweeter, more tender, and far more interesting than its mature counterpart. It is not traditional. It is not polite. It is deeply satisfying. Ceramic bowl was wheel-thrown and glazed by me. INGREDIENTS [serves 2 as a main dish] ten ounces of boneless short ribs, roughly cubed ten ounces of udon, cooked one cup of diced baby broccoli, including stems and leaves a quarter of a yellow onion, sliced one garlic clove, sliced three tablespoons of soy sauce two tablespoons of brown sugar one and a half teaspoons of sesame oil one teaspoon of mirin a half teaspoon of gochugaru half a tablespoon of cornstarch two tablespoons of room-temperature water vegetable oil for cooking In a bowl, combine the soy sauce, brown sugar, sesame oil, and mirin. Mix...

Was I Wrong to Have Accused White Men?

It began as an ordinary morning. Coffee. Stretching. The familiar ritual of scrolling through Apple News and The New York Times. Then it wasn’t ordinary. A gunman had entered a dance studio in Monterey Park and killed eleven people. First nine, then ten, then eleven. The numbers shifted. The dread did not. The studio was largely patronized by Asian Americans, located in a Chinese American community, on the eve of Lunar New Year. The specificity made it intimate. It felt close. I paused. Should I go to the ceramic studio as planned? Should I stop at Whole Foods afterward? A White man did it. That was the sentence that formed, fully constructed, in my mind. There is a racist White man loose in the greater Los Angeles area with a gun. Photo by Gayatri Malhotra on Unsplash As a Korean American woman, I felt fear move quickly and without permission. Monterey Park is not far from Koreatown. Not far from Downtown. We know how one violent act can loosen something dormant in others. Late...

Style Capsule: All Things Floral

Floral imagery has long threaded itself through the history of dress, less a passing embellishment than a quiet language stitched across centuries. In Ancient Egypt, garments and decorative textiles often carried stylized flowers, especially the sacred lotus. The motif was not simply decorative. The lotus symbolized rebirth and the daily return of the sun. Painted on linen or woven into ornament, flowers entered clothing as symbols of cosmology and renewal. Photo by Aziz Acharki on Unsplash Across the Silk Roads the motif deepened in complexity. During the Tang Dynasty in China, silk garments appeared with peonies, chrysanthemums, and plum blossoms rendered with painterly delicacy. In Persia similar botanical motifs flourished in brocades and tapestries. Printed florals as we recognize them today emerged centuries later in India, where artisans produced cotton fabrics known as chintz. These vividly printed flowers traveled to Europe and reshaped fashion. By the eighteenth century flor...

After the Silence: The Unraveling of César Chávez

Los Angeles has been under an extreme heat warning. My mornings have been slow to start, which has made my days unnecessarily intense, unproductive, and ultimately stressful. I am not a morning person, but I need early mornings—those quiet hours before six—to settle into a day that feels my own. Arts District, Downtown L.A., March 2026 One of my morning rituals, skimming through the news, shocked me as sexual assault allegations against Mr. César Chávez appeared on my iPad screen. Along with Ms. Dolores Huerta and Mr. Gilbert Padilla, he co-founded what is now known as the United Farm Workers (UFW) labor union. His dedication and fight for farm workers are enshrined in California. March 31, his birthday, is César Chávez Day, an observed holiday in the state. At first, I was deeply disturbed by the accounts of sexual molestation and assault described by Ms. Ana Murguía, thirteen at the time, and Ms. Debra Rojas, twelve when the sexual abuse began; however, it wasn't until my eyes la...

Exhaling Life

Search This Blog