Every decade, I get asked how I feel about entering a new era. My answer has always been the same: I feel nothing. It just feels like more of the same. But this year, I turned 50, and for the first time, my answer is different. It feels different. I feel it in my body. I wake up feeling it every morning. This time, I needed to take a moment to process it. I’m not going to deny it—turning fifty sounds… well, old. It doesn’t come with the same indifferent shrug I had when entering my 30s and 40s. It feels like the start of something entirely new. I’m stepping into a golden era. I believe this will be the most thriving, enriching, and fulfilling decade of my life—or at least, I hope to spend it that way.

I’ve heard that people my age are called the “sandwich generation” caught between raising our children and caring for our aging parents. We’re stretched in both directions while quickly becoming empty nesters ourselves. There’s a bit of sadness in that for me. I’ve spent the last two decades taking care of others, and suddenly, I’ve realized I haven’t been taking care of myself. My body has been sending me signals for a while, telling me to slow down. It’s asking me to take intentional breaks, both physically and mentally. I started my second career in my forties, so I know there’s still so much to learn and grow, but my body is telling me to step back a bit. So I’ll take things slow, set my own pace, and enjoy the journey.

I don’t often look back, but if I could give my younger self advice in my twenties, thirties, and forties, I would say: In your twenties, meet more people, date more, and travel, even if you don’t have much money. To my thirty-something self, I’d say: create more memories with your children. Take lots of pictures and videos. And to my forty-year-old self: find a hobby you can truly enjoy. What kind of advice would you give to your younger self?

Today, I’m sharing my birthday soup with you. In Korea, it’s traditional to eat seaweed soup on your birthday. It’s a custom rooted in the postpartum recovery of Korean mothers. I ate it during my 3/7 days (삼칠일), which meant for three weeks, seven days a week. My mother came over every day to care for me, and there was always a pot of seaweed soup on the stove. By eating this soup on my birthday, I honor her and the day she gave birth to me. While I love the traditional version of seaweed soup with tender chunks of beef, this year, I made something different. I tried Deulkkae Honghap Miyeokguk (들깨 홍합 미역국) – Perilla and Baby Mussels Seaweed Soup – It has a wonderfully subtle aroma from the perilla powder. It’s light but also deep in flavor. I have to say, I won’t be making miyeokguk any other way for a while. I hope you’ll give it a try too!

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Deulkkae Honghap Miyeokguk (들깨 홍합 미역국) Perilla Baby Mussels Seaweed Soup
2 servings

0.5 oz dried seaweed (for soup)
12 baby mussels (frozen)
2 tbsp perilla powder 
1 tbsp soy sauce 
1 tbsp mirin
2 tsp perilla oil
1 tsp garlic, minced 
1 tsp or more kosher salt 

1. In a medium pot, soak dried seaweed in cold water for about 15 minutes until the seaweed expands and turns soft. Drain the water. Using the kitchen shears, trim the seaweed to 2 inches in length. 
2. In the same pot with seaweed, add soy sauce, mirin, perilla oil, and garlic to sauté over medium heat until everything is combined together for about 2-3 minutes. Add 3 cups of water. Add perilla powder and baby mussels. Boil it for 15 minutes with a lid on over low-medium heat.
3. Season it with kosher salt. Serve with rice.