Precision is a bad thing. Unless specifically stated, I wouldn't trust any of the measurements I give. Not that I said there was garlic when there wasn't, but two teaspoons could have a margin of error of +/-1tsp. Can't remember the last time I levelled a spoon. And it's not that I'm cavalier about the whole thing either, but I don't want to convey the impression of great science. If I say 1¼ cups of something, then it says that 1 cup was too little and 1½ is too much and because of the accuracy you'd think it was. "One and bit" and the authority dissolves and you can make your own mind up. This frees us from the dictatorship of the recipe. Next time you're at a friend's house, take a marker pen and block out a few measurements in their favourite cook book. They'll be angry at first, people fear autonomy and are reluctant to trust in themselves, but thank you later.
A few people turned to nearly a dozen on a Friday night I'm back catch-up. That was OK because I had an an easy prep in advance grazing plan. Charcoal burner in the middle of the table, pile of meat, guests cook it themselves, no problem.
Buy some Korean pork and beef marinade and marinated pork ribs and finely sliced matchbox sized peices of rump respectively. This left the chicken and an extra pile of beef that I'd bought as numbers grew. The beef marinade was a combination of Korean chilli bean paste, vegetable oil, soy , and sake . The chicken was the same but with a splash of sesame oil and two crushed cloves of garlic . I bought one meat dipping sauce and made another of a simple ponzu by mashing in a mortar a couple of limes in 2 parts soy sauce and 1 part sake .
For vegetables, I thinly sliced some pumpkin and made a salad out of daikon . The daikon was thinly sliced on a mandoline into thin rounds with a dressing of rice vinegar, soy sauce, sesame seeds , and a small amount of the chilli bean paste and sesame oil .
Home straight. Cook up some koshi hikari short grain rice in the rice cooker. Put some kim chee and nori on the table and then fire up the charcoal. Leaving just drinking, chatting, and the steady cooking of small bits of meat.
