Slow Cooker Korean Beef

I cooked for other people this week. Not for me, not for Calvin—for other people, which is the thing I was made for, and doing it again felt like putting on a coat that had been hanging on a hook all summer, the one that fits exactly right because it was made for you specifically.

Sister Yvette's husband Franklin had a procedure at UAB Medical Center. I called and asked what Franklin was eating and she said hospital food and I said that's not acceptable and she laughed—the first time I'd heard her laugh since before March third, which meant the first time I'd made someone laugh in months, which turns out to matter to me more than I knew. I made a pot of oxtails, Franklin's favorite, which I know because Franklin has been eating oxtails at church suppers since 1989 and a woman who runs a church kitchen remembers what everyone loves. Low and slow all day, with the gravy getting deep and dark, and I made rice and cornbread and packed it all in containers and drove it to their house.

Sister Yvette opened the door and when she smelled the food she started crying. Not sad crying. The other kind—the kind that means someone showed up for you when you needed it, the kind that means the world is not as empty as it sometimes feels. I held her in the doorway and she said, "Loretta, I wasn't sure you were coming back," and I said, "Sugar, I always come back. The kitchen's in my bones."

It surprised me to say it so simply. The kitchen is in my bones. Four months of not cooking and the knowledge never left—it was there the whole time, waiting in the muscle memory, in the hands that know a roux and a brine. Grief can occupy you entirely, fill every room of you, and the thing that's in your bones will still be there when the grief shifts. I didn't know that. Now I do. I stopped at the nursing home in Bessemer on the way home. Willie James didn't know me—he kept calling me by someone else's name—but he ate the sweet potato pie I brought without hesitation, two slices, because his body knows Bernice's recipe even when his mind doesn't know me. Love is still here. It changes shape. But it eats when you feed it.

Franklin’s oxtails were the dish that day called for — his favorite since 1989, and mine to give — but this Slow Cooker Korean Beef has earned its place in my kitchen for exactly the same reason: it’s a dish with time in it. The sauce builds low and slow all day, going deep and savory the way a good gravy does, and when I’m cooking for someone who’s been through something hard, that slow build matters to me. You can feel the hours in it when you eat it. That’s the point.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 7 hours 30 minutes | Total Time: 7 hours 45 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs beef chuck roast, cut into 2-inch chunks
1/2 cup low-sodium soy sauce
1/2 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
1 tablespoon sesame oil
5 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, finely grated
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1 medium Asian pear (or Bosc pear), peeled and grated
1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons cornstarch
3 tablespoons cold water (for slurry)
4 green onions, thinly sliced, for serving
1 teaspoon sesame seeds, for serving
Cooked white rice, for serving

Instructions

Make the sauce. In a medium bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, brown sugar, sesame oil, garlic, ginger, red pepper flakes, grated pear, and 1/4 cup water until the sugar is mostly dissolved.
Layer the beef. Place the chuck roast pieces in an even layer in the bottom of a 6-quart slow cooker. Pour the sauce over the beef, turning the pieces to coat.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 7 to 8 hours, until the beef is very tender and pulling apart easily. (If you need to speed it up, cook on HIGH for 4 to 5 hours, though low and slow gives you the deeper, darker sauce.)
Thicken the sauce. About 30 minutes before serving, whisk the cornstarch into the cold water until smooth. Stir the slurry into the slow cooker, replace the lid, and switch to HIGH. Cook for 25 to 30 minutes until the sauce has thickened to a glossy gravy consistency.
Shred and finish. Use two forks to shred the beef directly in the slow cooker, stirring to coat every piece in the sauce. Taste and adjust salt if needed.
Serve. Spoon the beef and sauce over hot cooked rice. Finish with sliced green onions and a pinch of sesame seeds.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow Cooker Korean Beef — The Gravy That Means Someone Showed Up