Royal Tteokbokki (Gungjung Tteokbokki): The Version That Came Before the Red One (Patreon)

If you're like me, when you hear the word "tteokbokki," the first thing you think of is how much the word sounds like "duck bucket," closely followed by an image of chewy rice cakes in a glossy, bright red, spicy-sweet gochujang sauce, bubbling in a paper cup or shallow bowl, maybe eaten with a toothpick on the street. The dish is popular for a reason and deserves every bit of its fame, but it’s not the original!

There's a version of the dish that predates the chili-based street version by several hundred years. Indeed, by some arguments, royal tteokbokki (gungjung tteokbokki; 궁중떡볶이) even predates the 16th century arrival of chiles in Korea.

The Pre-Gochujang Universe

There’s no gochujang here, no heat, no chile at all. Instead, it’s built round rice cakes, beef, mushrooms, and julienned vegetables, lightly flavored with soy sauce and sesame oil. While the red version makes it easy to think of the dish as “rice cakes in spicy sauce.” Royal tteokbokki makes you see it the other way around: the dish is about the rice cakes themselves—their texture, their chew, the way they hold seasoning—surrounded by a set of supporting ingredients that are there as much for contrast as for flavor.

That emphasis on texture is also why this is such a great weeknight dinner dish, despite its royal origins. It’s mild, it’s comforting, it’s filling, and it’s one of the easiest ways I know to make a meal that feels exciting without relying on spice. (This is especially useful in my house right now, where my four-year-old is in a committed anti-spicy phase, while my daughter remains enthusiastically pro-spice. Royal tteokbokki keeps everyone happy.)

Here's how to make it.

A Harmonious Polycule of Ingredients

When I first learned how to make ratatouille (the actual stew, not the tian Provençal/confit Biyaldi that is presented as ratatouille int he Disney film), I was taught that for the most interesting flavor, you should cut and cook each ingredient separately—the eggplant, the yellow squash, the zucchini—before combining them all at the end for a quick stew with the tomatoes and aromatics. The idea was that by giving each ingredients its personal space, you end up with a dish where every flavor combines, but remains distinct.

Sort of like the difference between orchestral voices playing in melodic counterpoint as opposed to uniform chords.

Why did I think of ratatouille? Because royal tteokbokki is cooked the same way.

Rather than stir-frying all of our ingredients together, instead they're cooked one at a time. Cook your mushrooms until they brown and pick up crisp edges, then get them out. Cook your onions and carrots separately until they’re tender-crisp and still sweet, then get them out. Cook the beef quickly, just until done, then get it out. Warm the rice cakes and bring everything together at the end with a simple sauce.

When it comes to royal tteokbokki, separate bedrooms make for a stronger marriage. The results is mushrooms that still taste like mushrooms, beef that still tastes like beef, vegetables that still have their own sweetness and texture. And the rice cakes, most importantly, don’t become a bland, steamed mass.

Get Your Ducks in a Row (Buckets Optional)

Like most wok cooking, the cooking itself moves quickly, so the real trick is having everything ready to go before you turn on the heat.

Start with the beef. I used a Wagyu Denver steak that my sister Aya had gifted me, but virtually any cut of beef will work. Because we're slicing very thin, flank steak, hanger, skirt, sirloin or even something tougher like short rib will come out great. I slice it very thin, then marinate it with garlic, soy sauce, sesame oil, black pepper, and a touch of sugar.

While the beef marinates I prep my vegetables. Mushrooms can be whatever you’ve got—I used maitake (hen of the woods) because they brown beautifully and get those crisp edges that make them taste almost meaty—but shiitake, shimeji, or even plain old buttons will work. I also include a carrot (split in half then cut on a sharp bias into thin, thin planks), some yellow onion, and some scallions (combining the whites with the onion and saving the greens for finishing).

Then there’s the ingredient that matters most: the rice cakes. Tteok are famously hard when cold, because rice starch firms as it cools. The easiest way to ensure they soften evenly without turning to mush is to soak them in water before cooking. It doesn’t need to be elaborate—just enough time to take the edge off their hardness. Once they hit the wok with a little moisture and heat, they’ll re-gelatinize and regain that soft chew.

From there, it’s a simple. Heat your wok (or a large skillet) with a little neutral oil until it’s hot enough that the oil begins to lightly smoke. Cook the mushrooms first, tossing so they brown and crisp rather than steaming. Season lightly—remember, sauce is coming later—and move them to a bowl. Add a touch more oil and cook onions, carrots, and scallion whites until crisp-tender, then move them out. Add the beef and cook it quickly—no heavy sear needed, just a brief toss to cook it through—then move it out.

Finally, add the drained rice cakes. Toss them in oil to prevent sticking, then bring all the cooked components back into the wok and add the finishing sauce (which is intentionally similar to the marinade: soy, garlic, sesame oil, pepper, a touch of sugar, salt/MSG if you use it), and cook just until the tteok are tender. If the pan seems to be getting too dry before the cakes are tender, I add a small splash of water to help them soften without scorching.

A final scatter of pinenuts and scallion greens just before serving finishes it off.

It’s a simple dish, but it doesn’t eat like one. Each bite is a little different: chewy rice cake, tender beef, browned mushroom, crisp onion and carrot, the buttery crunch of pine nuts. Balanced, savory, and deeply comforting—the kind of recipe that’s easy to fall into making again and again.

Recipe: Royal Tteokbokki (Gungjung Tteokbokki) — Soy Sauce Rice Cakes With Beef and Mushrooms

Every recipe I publish here is personally tested, tasted, and approved.

Yield: 2–3 servingsActive Time: ~25 minutesTotal Time: ~35 minutes (including soaking)Notes: Cook ingredients in batches and combine at the end for best texture. Add a splash of water if the rice cakes need help softening.

Ingredients

Beef + Marinade

8 oz (225 g) beef, very thinly sliced (Denver steak, brisket, flank, ribeye, or thin-sliced short rib)

1 garlic clove, finely chopped

1 Tbsp (15 ml) soy sauce

1 tsp (5 ml) toasted sesame oil

1 tsp (4 g) sugar (or honey/rice syrup)

1/4 tsp black pepper

1/2 tsp kosher salt (or a salt + MSG blend)

Finishing Sauce

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

2 Tbsp (30 ml) soy sauce

2 tsp (10 ml) toasted sesame oil

1 tsp (4 g) sugar

Black pepper to taste

Pinch salt (or salt + MSG blend)

Stir-Fry

12–16 oz (340–450 g) Korean rice cakes (tteok), cylindrical or discs

Neutral oil as needed (2–3 Tbsp / 30–45 ml total)

6–8 oz (170–225 g) mushrooms (maitake/hen-of-the-woods, shiitake, button, etc.), torn/sliced

1 medium carrot, cut into thin matchsticks

1/2 medium yellow onion, sliced

3–4 scallions, whites cut chunky on a bias, greens thinly sliced (keep separate)

2–3 Tbsp toasted pine nuts (or sesame seeds)

Method

Soak rice cakes: Cover tteok with warm water and soak 15–20 minutes. Drain well.

Marinate beef: Mix beef with garlic, soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar, pepper, and salt/MSG. Set aside.

Mix sauce: Stir together finishing sauce ingredients.

Cook mushrooms: Heat wok over high heat with a splash of oil. Toss-fry mushrooms until browned at edges (~2 minutes). Lightly season. Transfer to a bowl.

Cook vegetables: Add a little oil. Cook onion, carrot, and scallion whites until crisp-tender (1–2 minutes). Lightly season. Transfer to bowl.

Cook beef: Add a little oil. Toss beef briefly until mostly cooked through (30–60 seconds). Transfer to bowl.

Finish: Lower heat to medium. Add rice cakes with a bit of oil; toss to coat. Return mushrooms/veg/beef. Add sauce and toss until rice cakes are tender (2–4 minutes). Add a splash of water if needed, then cook until sizzling again.

Garnish and serve: Toss in pine nuts (reserve some for the top) and scallion greens. Serve immediately.