
It was a Friday in June.
I was driving home after picking up my daughter. The sky was unusually clear, and the sunshine felt warm and comforting. After a long winter, it seemed as if summer was finally knocking at the door. As my daughter looked out the window, she suddenly said,
“Mom, now that the weather is getting warmer, I really want to eat naengmyeon.”
Her comment made me smile.
Koreans have a fascinating relationship with food. Certain foods seem to belong to certain seasons.
When it rains, we think of pajeon (savory pancakes).
When cold winds blow, we crave bungeoppang (fish-shaped pastries).
On the hottest days of summer, we eat samgyetang (ginseng chicken soup).
And when the weather starts to warm up, we begin thinking about naengmyeon.
Naengmyeon is more than just a bowl of cold noodles. For many Koreans, it is a sign that summer has arrived.
One bowl quietly says,
“Ah, summer is on its way.”
Instead of heading straight home, we stopped at the grocery store.
When it comes to food, our family tends to act quickly.
Less than thirty minutes after my daughter’s comment, our shopping cart was filled with naengmyeon, pork belly, cucumbers, ingredients for tangerine ade, and kkultteok—honey-filled rice cakes for dessert.
Korean meals often unfold like a multi-course dinner, even at home.
The first course was grilled Samgyupsal, grilled pork belly.

The meat sizzled on the pan, filling the house with its rich aroma.
Gathering around the table, cooking together, and sharing stories is about more than food. In Korea, a meal often becomes a reason for people to come together.
The second course was the star of the evening: naengmyeon.

The noodles rested in a bowl of icy broth, with pieces of ice floating on top. Just looking at it made us feel cooler.
What many visitors find surprising is that Koreans often eat cold naengmyeon after hot grilled pork belly.
At first, it seems like an unusual combination.
But after one bite, it makes perfect sense.
A mouthful of cold, refreshing noodles after rich, savory pork feels like the final period at the end of a long sentence—bringing every flavor together and completing the meal.
The third course was homemade tangerine ade.

The sparkling bubbles and bright citrus flavor refreshed our palates once again. It was the perfect drink for a warm summer evening.
And finally, dessert.
Kkultteok.

Small, round rice cakes with sweet honey hidden inside.
They may not be as elaborate as many Western desserts, but they are more than enough to end a meal beautifully. With each bite, the honey slowly flows out, leaving behind a simple sweetness.
That evening, we were not celebrating anything special.
It wasn’t anyone’s birthday. There was no occasion, no achievement, and no grand event.
The weather was simply beautiful, and we happened to be craving naengmyeon.
But perhaps that is the charm of Korean food.
It doesn’t need a special reason.
A warm ray of sunshine.
A conversation with family.
And a sudden craving for a familiar dish.
Sometimes, that is all it takes to turn an ordinary Friday evening into a small celebration that washes away the fatigue of the week.
Happy Naengmyeon Season!