Mul Naengmyeon is traditionally a summer Korean noodle soup dish served in icy cold broth. It holds a special place in my life because it was something my family loved and ate frequently. When I think about my memories with naengmyeon, my head floods with bowls of many variations that I either had at home, at restaurants and in my grandma’s apartment. Mul Naengmyeon makes me reminisce about summer days when I lived with my grandma in Queens, NY, summer days when I dropped an entire dozen of eggs on the floor and tried to kick the remains under the fridge to “get rid of the evidence” and summer days when I graduated middle school and my family celebrated by taking me to a restaurant specializing in naengmyeon making. The noodle dish comforts me and evokes nostalgia. Did you know that Mul Naengmyeon originated from North Korea (where my grandma was originally from)? While I have very fond memories of the dish, I can only imagine the larger and more special place Mul Naengmyeon must occupy for my grandma, who has seen the Koreas divide and was forced to leave behind her past life across the seas after losing my grandpa. It reconnects my grandma to her past and brings me closer to her. For these reasons and more, Mul Naengmyeon occupies a special part in my life.

Already, I have thrown around the name Mul Naengmyeon multiple times. What does it mean, though? When translated per syllable, Mul Naengmyeon (물냉면) means “water cold noodles” (Mul = 물 = water; Naeng = 냉 = cold; myeon = 면 = noodles). This cold noodle dish features chewy, thin noodles made with buckwheat and potato starch. Contrary to the misleading name, buckwheat is actually a seed rather than wheat. Thus, these buckwheat noodles are gluten-free, high in fiber and magnesium, low in saturated fat. The icy, refreshing broth is typically made by simmering beef bones. Although Mul Naengmyeon is not associated with a special occasion, this dish is consumed most in the summer as compared to any other season. Mul Naengmyeon is the BEST summer food — the light, bouncy noodles in ice-cold broth distinctively cools you down like no other food can. Although it’s most satisfying to enjoy Mul Naengmyeon in the summer, my family and I eat Mul Naengmyeon throughout the year! When I consider my most poignant memories tied to Mul Naengmyeon, I recall all of them happening in the summer. My mom and sister, in fact, share similar memories of Mul Naengmyeon as well. I think the distinctive aspect of Mul Naengmyeon is the cultural consciousness of associating it with longer and hotter days. In short, Mul Naengmyeon reminds me of summer and that’s a big reason why I love it so much.

The history of Mul Naengmyeon dates back to the Joseon Dynasty in the 17th century. The dish originated in the Northern part of unified Korea. Back then, Korean noodles were made either from rice or buckwheat, but in North Korea, the weather was not conducive to growing rice, making buckwheat much more prevalent. So, the noodles were originally made 100% from buckwheat. Why didn’t they just have flour noodles? Well, wheat is not a native crop of Korea. Only the rich or the royalty could afford wheat flour imported from China. In fact, flour wasn’t imported in larger quantities until after the Korean War. Anyways, since the noodles lacked gluten, they were too brittle in a warm broth but they stayed intact in cold broth! The story of Mul Naengmyeon is one of “if it sticks, it stays” (or, for lack of a better phrase, “if it retains its noodle form in broth, it stays”). Nowadays, Naengmyeon noodles are sold commercially in various forms, such as dried, refrigerated, or frozen. Some packages even include pouches of remade broth, which are popular in Korean families. Although my family doesn’t live in Korea, we go to the Korean supermarket and pick up these Naengmyeon packages for quick, convenient meals. Whenever my mom opts to buy these packages in the summertime, I am excited because I know we’ll spend that marginal amount of saved time together. Because Mul Naengmyeon became so prominent in Korea up to the point of commercializing it, I can enjoy Mul Naengmyeon with my family and comfortably spend more quality time with them. Mul Naengmyeon gives me the chance to sit and share a meal with my family.

When we watched “Flavors of Youth” in class earlier this week, I became choked up when the grandma passed away. What resonated with me the most about the film was the nostalgia associated with a particular noodle dish. My grandma emigrated to New York with my dad 30 years ago. When I was growing up, my family lived only 10 minutes away from her and I would visit her often. I would even sneak out in the middle of the night and go to my grandma’s apartment, and my parents would be unfazed if I was missing as they learned to expect I was with my grandma. I loved visiting my grandma for many reasons. I loved playing with her three cats. I loved the smell of herbal incense. I loved how much she fed me, and she loved how much I enjoyed her food. Because I would eat her food with so much passion, she called me “babsoonie” (a term that roughly translates to “rice champion”). My favorite side dish she made was pickled cucumber. Whenever she expected me, she will make an entire jar of pickled cucumber for us to share. My favorite way of eating her pickled cucumber was as a garnish on top of Mul Naengmyeon. For these reasons, I’ve spent countless meals eating Mul Naengmyeon with my grandma. Mul Naengmyeon takes me back to the comfort and happiness I felt around my grandma who expressed love through food-making. As of now, my grandma is healthy and well, which I’m grateful for. Still, I have not visited her apartment in Queens, NY since last year because of the pandemic. I called her the other day and before I could even say hi, she asked whether or not I had been eating well. I miss her, but I ate Mul Naengmyeon the other day and I felt connected to her again

Thinking about Mul Naengmyeon and how it occupies a special part in my life, it’s astounding how little time the cooking process takes. The entire cooking process takes less than 30 minutes. The whole process went so quickly because I was focused on doing something that I unconsciously learned by watching my grandma or mom. I think the most satisfying part of the process was seeing how grateful my little sister was because it almost felt like a reflection of how I receive Mul Naengmyeon. This project as a whole made me realize just how much Mul Naengmyeon means to me, satisfying more than just my stomach.