I still remember the first time I tasted Jangjorim—on a rainy Sunday, tucked into a tiny, steamy corner of a Korean gogung (family-run restaurant) in Seoul. It was winter, and the kind of cold that nips through your coat like it’s got a personal vendetta. The moment that plate hit the table, the rich, deep scent of soy sauce and garlic wrapped around me like a warm blanket. The beef was tender—so soft it practically melted with a whisper—and the sauce clung to every strand like velvet. I was hooked.
That dish wasn’t just food. It was comfort, memory, and home, all simmered into one pot. And now? I make it every few weeks, not just for the flavor, but because it feels like something good is happening in the kitchen. It’s one of those rare recipes that gets better with time, perfect for cozy nights, lunchboxes, and even silent dinner rituals with a book and a cup of tea.
If you’re looking for a soul-warming, richly savory dish that’s easy to make, keeps for days, and tastes like it came from someone’s grandmother’s kitchen—this Jangjorim recipe is your new best friend.
What Is Jangjorim?
Picture this: a deep, glossy sauce, thick with umami, draped over tender shreds of beef like it’s never been parted from them. That’s Jangjorim—Korean braised beef in soy sauce, one of those humble-yet-grand dishes that’s often slipped into a banchan (side dish) platter, or served as the centerpiece of a simple family meal.
It’s not fancy. No fussy techniques. Just beef simmered low and slow until every bite whispers “I’m here to stay.” The flavor? Deep, savory, with just a hint of natural sweetness that tames the saltiness of soy. Garlic hums in the background, ginger gives it a quiet warmth, and the eggs? They add a silky richness you won’t expect but will crave.
It’s the kind of Korean side dish you don’t just serve with rice—you want to eat by the spoonful.
Why You’ll Love This Recipe
- One pot, zero stress – Everything goes in a single pot. You set it and forget it. (Well, mostly.)
- Tastes even better the next day – The flavors deepen and blend, like a slow simmered love letter.
- Meal prep queen – Make a big batch and pull it out all week. Lunchboxes? Yes, please.
- Simple ingredients – No exotic shopping trips. Just pantry staples and some good beef.
- Comfort in every bite – That deep, savory-sweet depth is pure emotional healing.
What You’ll Need To Make Jangjorim?
Let’s gather the heartbeat of this dish:
- 1.5 lbs (700g) chuck or round beef – Look for a cut with a little fat. It’ll melt into the sauce and make everything richer. I usually go with chuck—it’s forgiving and tender when braised.
- 3 tbsp soy sauce (good quality) – This is the soul of the dish. The heart. The reason it’s called jang (sauce) jorim (braised).
- 2 tbsp honey or brown sugar – For a touch of sweetness that balances the salt. Honey gives it a silky sheen and subtle floral note.
- 4 large garlic cloves – Minced. Not too much, not too little. Just enough to warm your soul.
- 1 tsp freshly grated ginger – Adds a clean, peppery bite that sings under the soy.
- 1 cup beef broth (or water) – Keeps things juicy. Homemade is best, but store-bought works a treat.
- 2 large eggs – Boiled until soft, then peeled. They absorb the sauce beautifully and make the dish feel luxurious.
- 1 red pepper (or green) – Sliced into strips. Adds color and a bright crunch.
- Optional add-ins:
- 1 carrot (thinly sliced, adds sweetness and color)
- 1 dried red chili (if you like heat—remove before serving)
- A splash of sesame oil at the end (just a teaspoon—gives it a nutty whisper)
How to Make Jangjorim (Step-by-Step)
Let’s get cooking—like we’re sharing a kitchen with no rush.
💡 Pro Tip: Don’t rush this part. Low and slow is the secret. Crank up the heat too much, and your beef ends up tough and sad. We’re not giving it a spa treatment—we’re giving it a long, slow hug.
🍲 Pro Tip: Resist the urge to throw the cooking liquid away. It’s packed with flavor. That broth is the magic glue.
✨ Personal Touch: I like to leave a few larger chunks for texture—like little bursts of beefy joy.
☕ You’ll feel good when you do this. It’s like conducting a tiny symphony.
💬 Pro Tip: Don’t stir too hard. You want the beef to stay intact—like it’s still enjoying its moment of grace.
Expert Tips for Perfect Jangjorim
- Use meat with some fat – Marbled beef adds tenderness and richness. Lean cuts dry out fast.
- Don’t over-simmer the sauce – A thick syrupy sauce can overpower. Just glossy, not sticky.
- Let it rest – That 2–4 hour rest in the fridge? Golden. The flavors marinate and harmonize.
- Add eggs last – They’re delicate. They just need time to soak up the sauce without breaking.
- Taste as you go – Soy sauce varies in saltiness. Always adjust to your palate.
How to Serve Jangjorim
This dish is a chameleon. It wears a thousand hats:
- With steamed rice – The classic. Every grain soaks up that rich, savory sauce. Heaven.
- Over noodles – Try it with udon or rice noodles. A bowl with a soft-boiled egg? Pure joy.
- In lunchboxes – Pack it in a thermos. The flavors only get better.
- In a sandwich – Shred it into a grilled sourdough sandwich with pickled daikon. Yes, really.
- With fresh greens – A little lettuce or cabbage on the side cuts through the richness like a breath of fresh air.
Storage & Meal Prep
- Fridge: Keeps for up to 5 days in an airtight container. I often double the batch and grab one meal at a time.
- Freezer: Freeze in portion-sized containers for up to 3 months. Thaw overnight in the fridge—then reheat gently on the stove or in the microwave.
- Bonus: The longer it sits, the better it tastes. After 24 hours? That’s when it truly sings.
Frequently Asked Questions
Final Thoughts
Jangjorim isn’t just a recipe. It’s a reminder that some of the best things in life are slow, simple, and made with care. It’s the kind of dish that makes your kitchen smell like memory, and your heart feel full before your plate even hits the table.
So, grab a pot. Pull out that good soy sauce. Let it simmer. And when you take that first bite—not just on Day 1, but Day 2, Day 3—feel the warmth of it. That’s comfort. That’s joy. That’s home.
Give this Jangjorim recipe a try this week. Make it big. Save it. Share it. And let me know how yours turned out—I’d love to hear your version, your stories, or even a photo (no pressure, of course 😊).
Until next time, happy simmering. 🍲✨


