My dearest Kiwan,
When you asked me a few weeks ago what I would like for Christmas, I was stumped. I had been a little too caught up in work and preparing for dad’s arrival that I haven’t really thought of Christmas presents yet. I simply told you I’d think about it, and that was that.
I remember the day I told you dad is coming for Christmas. I couldn’t read the expression on your face then. You said that even if you’ve already technically experienced Christmas (albeit mostly as a spectator), you’re still confused about what it is. I thought it was adorable and sad at the same time.
And so I told you all of the Christmas stories I remember from my childhood and showed you some old holiday photos I have saved on my phone, and even when you smiled over the things I shared, somehow I saw a hint of sadness in your eyes. It made my heart ache for days thinking perhaps you were missing your mom.
I tried looking for a way to contact your uncle in Yanji so I could maybe ask for stories about your mom. I thought that maybe if I got to know your mom a little better, I’ll figure out how to put together a nice surprise that would remind you of her.
Alas, luck wasn’t on my side.
And then I remembered you talking about the noodles your mom made for you as a kid, the one she cooked for you every year as a treat for your birthday. I thought you might like it if I made it for you today.
It was tricky to find a recipe; after all, the only clues a hopeless cooking novice like me had were that it had beef, clear broth, and rice noodles. But I got a bit lucky here, because I still had Seonju’s contact details, and after a bit of back and forth, she gave me a recipe for beef naengmyeon.
Now I’m pretty sure this was not your mother’s recipe, but I did put a lot of love and effort on this. Melati from the resort even helped me get access to the kitchen so I could learn how to cook this in secret.
I hope you enjoy this, my love.
Happy birthday.
Yours,
Marie