"I had never noticed jeon in my youth, not like I do now. Maybe because they were always there, at every party, holiday, Tuesday night dinner. While the mothers gathered in the kitchen to fry up brimming platters of the Korean fritters with ingredients like meat (wanja jeon), kimchi (kimchi jeon) and cod (daegu jeon) the fathers played cards in the dining room, drinking soju and beer, and we children ran amok upstairs playing video games. The smell in the air, fried oil, was singular."
"The word jeon (pronounced JUHN) encompasses a vast category of fritters and savory pancakes. But fritter and pancake aren't adequate words for the breadth that the Korean word, jeon, encompasses. That's why I think of it more as a cooking style, technique or method than a single dish. The quiet practice of dipping peak-season fish, vegetables, herbs and grasses in beaten egg, then pan-frying them in hot oil is a labor of love timeless and joy-inducing, not to mention effusively Korean."
Jeon appears commonly at Korean gatherings and family meals, filling kitchens with the singular smell of fried oil. The term encompasses a broad category of fritters and savory pancakes, and functions as a cooking style involving dipping peak-season fish, vegetables, herbs, and grasses in beaten egg and pan-frying in hot oil. Jeon dates back to the Joseon dynasty and featured in royal court cuisine. Variations depend on base ingredient and require different cuts, cooking times, and sauces. Examples include wanja jeon (meat), kimchi jeon, daegu jeon (cod), and aehobak (Korean zucchini) prepared simply yet deliciously.
Read at cooking.nytimes.com
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