Yakgwa

Yakgwa traces to Goryeo (10-14th c.) Buddhist temple cuisine, where ancestral rites used no meat or fish and honey-and-sesame-oil cookies (yumilgwa) stood in for the meat offerings — often molded into the shapes of fruits like jujube, chestnut, pear and persimmon. The name literally means "medicine-fruit" — yak (medicine) refers to honey, which was classed as medicinal in traditional Korean materia medica. Honey, sesame oil and flour were so costly that demand for yakgwa once drained the country's honey and oil and drove up prices, prompting Goryeo kings to ban its making by law — King Myeongjong in 1192 (ordering nuts and fruit used instead) and King Gongmin in 1353, with offenders flogged. It later became a key jesa (ancestral rite) offering and tea-ceremony confection at the Joseon court, and remains essential at major holidays alongside other hangwa (traditional sweets).

From Goryeo (10-14th c.) Buddhist temple cuisine, where animal fat was forbidden and honey-sesame-oil cookies stood in for ceremonial meat. The name means medicine-fruit — yak (medicine) refers to honey, classed as medicinal in traditional materia medica. Sesame oil cut into the flour first blocks gluten formation; that's why it gives instead of crunches.

Looks like a small carved-flower cookie the colour of dark whiskey. Bite in and it doesn't crunch — it gives, dense and almost cake-like inside, drenched in honey that runs slightly down the chin. The flavour is honey, toasted sesame, ginger heat, a thread of cinnamon. The pleasure is in the saturation: a properly soaked yakgwa is heavier than it looks. If yours is dry-centred and crisp, the syrup soak was too short or the cookie was over-kneaded.

The defining trick is keeping gluten development to near zero. The sesame oil is cut into the flour first — coats the proteins, blocks water absorption, prevents networks from forming. Then the wet ingredients are folded in only enough to bind. The double-fry — slow at 100°C to dry and set, hot at 150°C to colour — creates a porous interior. That porosity is what lets the honey-ginger syrup permeate during the long soak; without it you'd get a glazed-but-dry cookie.