of my Youth

ARTICLE BY ALISON HWANG, NEWPORT BEACH, CA

ARTWORK BY AKHILA MUSHINI, NORTH ATTLEBOROUGH, MA

kalguksu with extra broth and green onions and salt on the side, extra spicy signature galbi gukbap, and one plate of bossam (boiled pork shoulder sliced with side dishes) with cabbage instead of lettuce, right? It will be right out!” says Soonhee Ahjumma.

It was great to see Soonhee Ahjumma still the same: healthy and happy. I thought of her often in the States. “The food’s here.”

My mouth waters as I carefully blow the steam off of Garam Ggukshi’s kalguksu, my all-time favorite handmade wheat flavor noodles. Sluuuuurp.

“Honey, are you crying? What’s wrong? It doesn’t taste good?” Mom frowns. I’m crying because it tastes like my youth.

As a clueless two year old, I first ate these noodles with my bare hands.

After my first day of preschool, I spilled the soup on my new uniform.

I’m crying because it tastes like my youth

As a five year old, I craved the comforting broth after my disappointing violin recitals.

As a six year old, it was the first meal I had with my new baby brother.

As a seven year old, it was the last meal I had with Grandpa before he lost his battle with cancer.

As a nine year old, I had a spicy bowl of gukbap, hot and spicy soybean sprout soup, two hours before moving to California.

Garam Ggukshi is where I went after church on Sundays, after arriving at the airport from family vacations, the meal of choice for all of my birthdays. It was where I went after bad days and after good days.

The first few months after my immigration, I faced trouble adjusting to the new environment and only speaking in English. I tried to find solace in dining at various Korean restaurants, but none of them came close to imitating Garam’s signature meal. Now, as I sat here crying over a bowl of noodles, I realized that Garam Ggukshi was the cure for my homesickness.

“I’m okay, Mom. Nothing is wrong. Everything is just right.”

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