Fish Roe SoupAltang

Sigríður from Reykjavik worked in fisheries policy and had strong opinions about fish roe. In Iceland, roe is prized and eaten simply — salted, spread on bread. She found the Korean treatment fascinating: roe cooked whole in spicy broth, poached gently enough to keep the individual eggs intact.

I made al-tang on a night she was visiting. The fish roe I used was pollock roe in sac form — round, delicate, a deep orange-red. The challenge with al-tang is handling the roe with enough care to prevent the sac from rupturing before it reaches the pot. Rinse it gently under cold water. Handle it with two hands, like you'd carry something fragile.

When the roe goes into the simmering broth, it changes. The individual eggs firm up but don't pop if the heat is right — a gentle simmer, not a rolling boil. By the time the soup is done, the roe sac holds its shape, the eggs are set, and when you press one with a spoon it releases a burst of briny, rich flavor into the spicy broth.

Sigríður tasted it carefully and said it was completely different from any roe she'd eaten — not cold, not raw, not cured, but cooked in a way that preserved the textural experience of individual eggs. She asked whether Koreans eat a lot of roe dishes. The answer is yes: al-tang, myeong-nan jjigae, ojingeo-al jjim — roe appears across Korean cuisine in multiple forms.

The egg cracked in at the end is optional but right. It adds a mild, creamy contrast to the spice of the broth and softens the intensity of the roe.