On a particularly rainy day last week, I was eating lunch in Malott with some friends and talking about how we wished that we were feasting on steaming bowls of Korean tofu stew instead of sandwiches and fries.
We chatted at length about just how much hot soups and stews hit the spot whenever it rains — how they make us feel warm, cozy and altogether protected from the cold and wet outside.
My friends and I left the dining hall and went our separate ways, but our conversation lingered in my mind: “What makes a food a rainy day food?”
Funnily enough, it was only after I accidentally stepped into a massive puddle near my room that a particularly sweet memory came to mind. As I sheepishly looked down at my shoes and at the sensation of rainwater seeping into my socks, I was reminded of a moment during my gap year in Seoul when I was on a determined quest — a quest for a cookie.
While I was in Seoul, I lived in an area called Seongsu-dong (some call it the “Brooklyn of Seoul”) and near my apartment, hidden among the colorful array of convenience stores and trendy cafes lay a tiny, unassuming cookie shop. From the outside, you couldn’t even tell that it was a cookie shop.
It was my coworkers at the animation company where I was interning who first introduced me to this cookie shop. We went during our lunch break and quickly, thanks to a matcha chocolate chip confection, I fell in love.
The cookie was divine. The chocolate chips perfectly complemented the matcha’s bitterness and my teeth sunk into the cookie with remarkable ease. If clouds were edible, they would taste like this.
Not only were the cookies delicious, but the owner was also incredibly friendly. If I bought two cookies, he would often secretly slip me a third. At times, he would even send me off with some complimentary tea to go with my sweet treat, too.
Regardless of the weather, the cookie shop became my go-to for sugary pick-me-ups — so much so that one day, I even made the trek in the pouring rain.
I had just finished eating some ramen and suddenly I craved something sweet. Though I could have just grabbed something from my cupboard and saved myself from having to go out in the rain, I thought about the cookies from this cookie man. I immediately knew — I wanted that matcha cookie and nothing else would do.
So, I bundled up in warm clothes, grabbed my umbrella and made my way to the cookie shop. Within five steps of leaving my apartment, I stepped into a giant puddle. My shoes were immediately soaked and the bottom of my pants too. I looked back at my apartment and chuckled to myself. There was no turning back now.
As I continued on my journey, firmly gripping my umbrella to prevent the fierce winds from taking it, I managed to step into six more puddles. Some I tried to avoid by taking long strides — but I failed. With others, I accepted my fate and stepped in anyway, laughing to myself for going to such great lengths for a cookie.
Sure enough, when I finally arrived, there was the owner — smiling, chuckling at the sight of me standing at the door with wet shoes, wet hair (so much for an umbrella!) and rosy cheeks from the cold.
“You want a matcha cookie, right?” he asked.
He brought out a cookie still warm from the oven and some tea. As soon as the baked good hit my lips, followed by the comforting trickle of tea, I knew that the rainy trek had been worth every drop. The matcha chocolate chip combination perfectly satisfied my craving for something sweet and the tea made me feel cozy and warm.
When I set out to return to my apartment, I was more than willing to brave the pouring rain again.
Having reminisced about this story, should my conversation with friends about rainy day foods recommence, I would assuredly add “cookies” to the list.
And should this take my friends by surprise, I would tell them this — there are a select few foods that I would brave the wind and the rain for. For me, it’s a humble matcha cookie hidden away in the “Brooklyn of Seoul.”
Now I ask: What are those foods for you?
Emily Kim PO ’25 is from Irvine, California. Last spring she forgot to bring her umbrella to campus and she is very happy that she remembered it this semester.