Save to Pinterest The first time I made this, I wasn't even thinking about Korean cuisine. I had a pound of shrimp defrosting on the counter and a craving for something buttery and bold, so I grabbed my jar of gochugaru and started building from there. What came together in ten minutes was this stunning garlic butter sauce that tasted like it belonged in a restaurant, yet somehow felt entirely my own. Now whenever I make it, people ask if I've been secretly taking cooking classes. The secret is just letting the garlic get fragrant, then letting the shrimp do its thing without overcrowding the pan.
I remember making this for my sister's dinner party when she announced she'd gone pescatarian. I panicked for about thirty seconds, then remembered this recipe in my head and realized I could have this done before everyone even finished their drinks. She came into the kitchen as the shrimp were turning pink, caught a whiff of that garlic-butter-chili combination, and I watched her face light up. That was the moment I realized this dish had become something I made not because it was easy, but because it was genuinely good.
Ingredients
- Large shrimp (500 g / 1 lb), peeled and deveined: Pat them dry before cooking and they'll get a golden edge instead of steaming. I learned this the messy way after making them rubbery once.
- Unsalted butter (3 tbsp): This is your base for everything, so use something you'd actually eat on toast. It'll emulsify with the other sauces and carry all that garlic flavor.
- Garlic (4 cloves, minced): Don't use pre-minced if you can help it. Fresh garlic will smell incredible and actually taste sweet once it hits the butter.
- Gochugaru (1 tbsp): This Korean chili flake is milder and fruitier than red pepper flakes, but if you can't find it, a pinch of smoked paprika mixed with cayenne will work in a pinch.
- Soy sauce (1 tbsp): Use gluten-free tamari if that matters to you. It adds umami depth that makes people ask what your secret ingredient is.
- Honey (1 tbsp): A small touch of sweetness balances the spice and salt. Brown sugar works too if you're out.
- Sesame oil (1 tsp): Just a teaspoon because this stuff is potent. It adds a nuttiness that ties everything together.
- Scallions (2 tbsp, chopped) and sesame seeds (1 tsp, toasted): These aren't fancy touches, they're the final note that makes people lean in for another bite.
- Lemon wedges: A bright squeeze at the end cuts through the richness and makes the whole dish feel lighter.
Instructions
- Dry your shrimp:
- Pat them completely dry with paper towels because any moisture will steam them instead of searing them. Lay them on the towel and let them sit while you prep everything else.
- Build your sauce foundation:
- Melt the butter over medium heat and add the garlic. You want it to smell amazing within a minute, but not brown or it'll taste bitter. Keep stirring.
- Blend in the spice and flavor:
- Add the gochugaru, soy sauce, honey, and sesame oil all at once and stir for just 30 seconds so everything gets to know each other. The sauce will smell incredible and look deep red.
- Cook the shrimp:
- Lay them in a single layer so they actually touch the pan, not the sauce. Let them cook undisturbed for 2 to 3 minutes until the bottom half turns pink and opaque, then flip and do the same on the other side.
- Bring it all together:
- Toss the shrimp with all that glossy sauce so every piece gets coated. This takes maybe a minute and you're done.
- Finish and serve:
- Slide everything onto a platter, scatter the scallions and sesame seeds over top, and serve immediately with lemon wedges on the side. Don't let it sit or it'll lose that just-cooked magic.
Save to Pinterest This dish has a way of making ordinary Tuesday nights feel like you're dining somewhere special. My partner now asks for it by name, which is something that never happened with my other cooking experiments.
Why This Works So Well
The magic here is in the contrast. You've got heat from the gochugaru, richness from the butter, a salty-sweet undertone from the soy and honey, and then that nuttiness from the sesame oil that pulls everything into focus. None of those flavors fights with the others, and the shrimp itself is delicate enough that it doesn't get lost. It's bold without being overwhelming, which is exactly what makes people reach for seconds.
Ways to Serve It
On its own, it's an elegant appetizer that'll make you look like you've been cooking Asian fusion forever. Over a bowl of fluffy steamed rice, it becomes a complete meal that's still on the table in under twenty minutes. With noodles—either cold buckwheat or a quick stir-fry—it's something else entirely. I've even served it over cauliflower rice when I was being virtuous, and it was surprisingly satisfying.
Making It Your Own
This recipe is a solid foundation, but it loves being adjusted. I've added a splash of lime juice instead of lemon, thrown in some thinly sliced ginger, swapped the honey for a touch of apple cider vinegar when I wanted it more acidic. One time I added a handful of toasted pine nuts and my friend still asks about that version. The core stays the same, but the details are yours to play with.
- If you like more heat, add another half tablespoon of gochugaru or a pinch of cayenne, but taste as you go.
- Frozen shrimp work perfectly fine if you thaw them properly and pat them completely dry before cooking.
- This doesn't keep well as leftovers because the texture changes, so make exactly what you'll eat tonight.
Save to Pinterest This is one of those recipes that proves good food doesn't need to be complicated, just thoughtful. Make it once and it becomes part of your regular rotation.