That Summer
That summer,
in the hush between school bells and cicadas,
I tried to pour my whole heart
into a single, humble meal.
The children’s small tongues
became my quiet teachers;
their bright, unguarded praise
lifted me like a warm breeze,
and the joy that passed between us at the table
was more nourishing than any dish I served.
“It’s so good,” they said, eyes widening.
“I’ve never tasted this before.”
I wanted their summer to taste of fields and gardens,
of namul and the tender green of leaves,
of vegetables speaking softly
in the language of warmth and care.
Carrot Kimchi, for a Summer Table
For one child who could not bear carrots
unless they were transformed into something bright and beloved,
this became the taste of compromise, of discovery —
a small recipe carrying a large tenderness.
- Salt and sweeten the carrots.
Julienne fresh carrots into fine matchsticks. In a bowl, toss with 1 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon sugar. Let them rest for about 10 minutes, until the carrots begin to release their gentle, orange tears. - Wait for the water to bloom.
When a little pool of liquid gathers at the bottom of the bowl, you’ll know the carrots have softened and listened. - Warm the garlic.
Lightly sauté 1 teaspoon minced garlic in a pan until fragrant, just golden at the edges, never bitter. - Color and perfume.
Add the warm garlic to the carrots. Sprinkle in mild paprika powder for color, and finish with a slow ribbon of toasted sesame oil. - Gently, with your hands.
With clean hands, mix and lightly massage the carrots, turning them over and over until every strand glows, until they taste of home and summer and the kindness of a mother who carries the recipe carefully back with her.
That summer’s days were stitched with laughter,
with curious glances at unfamiliar greens,
with hands hesitating, then reaching,
for one more bite.
In that sun-warmed classroom kitchen,
time tasted different.
It was playful and tender,
seasoned with questions and small confessions:
“I didn’t know I liked bean sprouts.”
“Spinach is fun to chew.”
A season of first flavors, of tiny, brave decisions.
Those weeks were playful and full of wonder,
overflowing with love.
As I watched them eat and grow,
a quiet gratitude settled in me,
a proud, steady warmth I still carry
like the lingering scent of sesame oil on my hands.
With gratitude and quiet prideChildren, stay well and grow healthy.
May this food become a warm, summer memory
woven gently into the story of your growing up.
hugdays 
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