The Stories

I made her spicy Korean food with no compromises. A few glasses of wine in, we realized our two countries have been running the exact same hangover cycle our whole lives.

I knew nothing about making champagne. But the moment I saw the airlock on the fermentation tank, I recognized it immediately. I do the same thing every morning with my kimchi.

In Korea, you eat scalding soup on the hottest day of the year and call it refreshing. It makes no sense. Until, somehow, it does.

My sister-in-law pointed at the menu. Noodle soup, listed under dessert. I laughed, then realized I'd never once questioned why.

My first Christmas in the Netherlands, the fish inside the temaki roll was smoked herring. I didn't expect that combination, and I didn't expect what it would remind me of either.

Some foods take a friend's confidence to try. Some take a war. Some need nothing at all, you've already crossed that line without noticing.

Everyone else was in the long line at the best satay stall. I was standing alone at the wrong one, except it wasn't wrong at all.

My mom made gimbap look easy. It wasn't. I only understood that after years of trying to roll it myself.

My mom sent me a rice cooker without asking. It talks, it sings, and it tells me to stir the rice, exactly the way she used to.