Before I Tasted It

My friends suggested gochujang spaghetti for our Saturday cook. I couldn't picture it. Spaghetti was Italian. Gochujang was Korean. I was wrong before I even tasted it.

Dubu Han Mo

My mother would call out with a little urgency: can you go to the store and get dubu han mo? I always knew what dinner was going to be.

The Vegetables That Weren't From There

I was going to make ratatouille in my mother-in-law's kitchen. One conversation later, I was questioning why we call any of these vegetables Mediterranean.

The Heat You Come Back For

My mother still sources gochugaru in bulk once a year and keeps some in the freezer for me. Running out was never an option in our house.

The Squid I Wanted to Marry

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.

The Word I'd Never Heard

I had seen the words on every warung sign in Bali. I never once heard anyone say them. Then a man set down a banana leaf and everything shifted.

The Soup I Wasn't Supposed to Eat

My first Christmas in Hungary, the choice was halászlé or duck. I had a family rule about carp. Nobody at the table knew.

When Donkkaseu Was Special

Going to a gyeongyangsik restaurant meant something. The soup wasn't very good, but it arrived in a bowl we never used at home — and that alone made it feel different.

Between Dakdoritang & Dak-bokkeum-tang

I thought I knew the dish. Then I realized I didn’t know what to call it.

The Real Food

From spotless supermarket shelves to whole animals at the market, a quiet shift in how we see meat reveals more than just what we eat.

A Whole Chicken in the Alley

A childhood treat from a small market alley leads to a story of how fried chicken transformed in Korea—and eventually traveled back out into the world.

What We Carry Home

I showed up at a gisa-sikdang in Yeonnam-dong with my own Tupperware. The grandmother looked at my containers the way you look at something that reminds you of a different time.

When Place Becomes the Dish

I waited two hours in line at Franklin Barbecue in Texas. After hearing so much about the place, standing in that line felt like becoming part of it.

The World Inside a Small Shell

I learned to pull snails from their shells as a child at a Korean river. Years later, in a Dutch oyster bar, someone handed me a metal pin and I knew exactly what to do.

Fish From Distant Waters

Every summer at Lake Balaton, the first thing we eat is hekk — a fish from Argentina, frozen and shipped across thousands of kilometers, that somehow became the taste of a Hungarian summer.