Midwinter dreams of a sweet, crunchy, icy summertime treatPossibly because of a traumatic incident that happened to me recently, I just can’t stand winter this year. I’ve said this over and over to my friends, but I really hope winter leaves as soon as possible and doesn’t return for the next five years. Why five? Because I can’t stand even numbers. Okay, maybe three.
It’s a strange thing. I was always happier ― though chubbier and lazier ― in winter than I was in summer, spring or fall.
I must confess, though, that I’ve always held some strange judgments about people based on their seasonal preferences. I guess for me it was like judging people according to their taste in music.
For one thing, I always used to underestimate people who liked summer. I thought they were too light or superficial. I was never too fond of people who liked autumn, either. I thought they were too sentimental. If someone told me they liked spring, I would sympathize with them, assuming they were on Prozac.
Now I see that this had partly to do with a sense of aesthetic superiority on my part. I despised summer largely because the season seemed to exist for immature boys and girls who were into surfing, sports cars and bad mystery novels.
My only excuse now for having made such judgments is that my perceptions were narrow and immature. For a number of reasons, I simply don’t believe any of the stereotypes about the seasons anymore.
First of all, I don’t believe that preferences wholly reflect a person. Not everyone who drives a sports car was born with bad taste.
Second, even if those connections exist, I no longer believe they have anything to do with the seasons. As a matter of fact, I don’t even believe that surfers are any more superficial than writers or journalists are.
When you think about it, winter itself is filled with melodramatic cliches ― Christmas; the snow; the settings of ballads. (Just think of “Winter Sonata.”)
Whatever the reason, I’ve come to resent winter this year. I can’t stand the cold; I can’t stand the heating bills; I can’t stand dry cleaning my wool sweaters.
I’ve suddenly become an admirer of Helios, the sun goddess. I miss summer so much that I’ve already bought three T-shirts at an Internet shopping mall, and I’ve joined an online club that plans to start tennis lessons as soon as it gets warm.
I can’t wait to walk around the park at night in my sandals. I can’t wait to see those kids splashing around in the fountain near City Hall. I can’t wait to bite into a large spoonful of cold, crunchy ice, mixed with sweet beans and syrup, maybe with rice cakes. I can’t wait for this summer, even though television tells us that it’s going to be one of the hottest in a century.
How to Cook
Ingredients (for 4 servings): 4 cups of water, 200g crushed ice, 1/2 cup of canned fruit, 1 teaspoon of sweet buttermilk, 1/4 cup of milk, 1 teaspoon of powdered grains, 4 cherries, 1/3 cup of red beans, 1/3 cup of sugar, a pinch of salt.
1. Soak the beans in water for 10 minutes or so, then boil them for 20 minutes.
2. Once the beans have softened, add the sugar and salt. Let the water simmer.
3. Put the crushed ice on four dishes and pour the milk over it. Top with the buttermilk, beans, canned fruit and cherries.
From miz.naver.com, Delicook
by Park Soo-mee
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