KINI
When Juwon was a kid in Busan, South Korea, his parents would usually work late, so after school, he and his younger sister would stay with his maternal grandmother, who would cook them delicious kimchi fried rice or chicken rice dakgangjeong, her specialty. She was an excellent cook and taught her own eldest daughter, Juwon’s aunt, so well that she ran her own Korean restaurant in New York’s bustling Koreatown using her mother’s recipes. Juwon could never have imagined that he would someday join his pioneering aunt in New York and then go on to run his own Korean restaurant as a certified chef. As a teenager, he was helping his dad at his gas station after school. The future seemed uncertain.
Korea has a compulsory two-year military service, and when it was Juwon’s turn to enter, at age twenty-one, he was assigned cooking duty. Although he made some friends in the kitchen, a hazing culture ruled, and being at the bottom of the hierarchy was exhausting for Juwon. There was no real “off-duty” time, even when work hours were officially over. At any time, if someone who ranked higher than you ordered you to do something, you had to obey. Cockroaches were placed on sleeping soldiers’ faces or in their food as pranks, and people were just plain mean—all the time.
Juwon counted the days until his military service was over, reminding himself that his father must have had it much worse, doing his own much longer compulsory military service for three and a half years, back when there wasn’t even enough food to go around, and the political situation was far less stable. At any rate, he could focus on the task at hand: preparing meals for thousands of soldiers, every day. He learned a lot, and ultimately credits those two trying years for making him stronger and giving him the courage to make the great leap across the Pacific.
At age twenty-three, he moved to New York looking for culinary programs to enroll in, while helping out at his aunt’s restaurant. Just a few years later, after an internship with the prestigious nouveau Korean restaurant Danji, and with a degree in French culinary arts under his belt, he got a job as a chef de partie (or station chef) at Café Boulud.
In 2015, Juwon and his Korean American wife, Olivia Park, were strolling home in Long Island City one Saturday when they noticed a for lease sign in a little space that had previously been a Greek deli, just downstairs from them. They started dreaming up small fast-casual and takeout restaurant ideas, and soon those ideas became too attractive to let slide. With a little help from his parents, and a lot of support from his wife, Juwon opened Kini in 2016, hoping to make Korean food more accessible and fun for the young and mostly non-Korean professionals in the neighborhood.
As a huge baseball fan, Juwon dreams of seeing little Kini outposts by the stadiums. “Imagine if people had Korean fried chicken at baseball games, instead of hot dogs!”
DAKGANGJEONG
Fried Chicken
Juwong spent a lot of time trying to recreate the dakgangjeong his grandmother made, as he never got the recipe from her. The chicken is double-fried until super crispy and then tossed in a sweet and spicy sauce. It’s delicious as a snack or as the focus of a meal. Juwong’s version is less spicy than you would typically find in Korea, but it’s easy to up the amount of gochugaru in the recipe if you’re into the heat!
Makes 4 to 6 servings
FRIED CHICKEN
1 tablespoon sake
2 garlic cloves, grated
½ teaspoon grated peeled fresh ginger
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
1½ pounds (700 g) boneless chicken thighs, cut into bite-sized pieces
Vegetable oil, for frying
2⅓ cups (315 g) tempura flour
⅓ cup (40 g) Korean pancake mix*
3 tablespoons cold water
YANGNUM (KOREAN BBQ) SAUCE
1 cup (340 g) corn syrup or honey
¾ cup (150 g) granulated sugar
¼ cup (60 g) gochugaru (Korean red chile powder)
¼ cup (60 g) gochujang (Korean red chile paste)
¼ cup (60 g) ketchup
¼ cup (60 ml) soy sauce
3 tablespoons minced garlic
2 teaspoons minced peeled fresh ginger
Sesame seeds
1. To make the fried chicken, combine the sake, garlic, ginger, salt and pepper, in a large mixing bowl and add the chicken. Marinate in the refrigerator for at least 1 hour, but overnight is preferable.
2. Pour about 4 to 5 inches (10 to 13 cm) oil into a deep pot and heat over medium-high heat to about 325°F (165°C).
3. Combine ⅓ cup (45 g) tempura flour, the pancake mix, and the water in a bowl. Shake off or drain excess marinade from the chicken and coat with batter. Add the remaining 2 cups (270 g) tempura flour to a separate bowl or dish and coat the battered chicken for extra crispiness.
4. In batches, drop the chicken into the oil and fry until golden brown, 5 to 7 minutes. Be careful not to overcrowd the oil. Remove and place on a cooling rack or paper towels to drain.
5. Raise the oil temperature to 350°F (180°C). Fry all the chicken a second time until crispy and golden brown, 3 to 5 minutes. Remove and drain on the cooling rack or paper towels.
“Imagine if people had Korean fried chicken at baseball games, instead of hotdogs!”
6. To make the yangnum sauce, combine all the ingredients with 1 cup (240 ml) water in a medium saucepan and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Simmer to reduce and thicken, 4 to 5 minutes.
7. To serve, toss the fried chicken in the yangnum sauce and sprinkle with sesame seeds.
* Substitute with all-purpose flour, more tempura flour, or potato starch if Korean pancake mix cannot be found.