Entering the threshold of his cozy house, with a pleasant, spicy atmosphere, as if you had come to your home, he took off your jacket, taking you under the elbow and sitting you on the sofa in front of the already turned on TV and a fragile, transparent table on which was already ready smoky tea, a vase with your favorite snowdrops, sticks.

"Did you order food?" - you asked, turning to him in slight surprise as he poured soup onto hand-painted, deep plates.

"I did. For you. - He replied with a broad smile, taking a seat next to you, putting the saucers down with a clinking of glass against clay.Then he continued, pulling you to his side. - This is sundubu chige, tofu soup."

"It smells nice and spicy.Family recipe?"

"Yes, my grandmother's.She used to make it for me a lot when I was a kid.The first time I tasted it was when I came home from a fight with the local bullies.Of course my parents scolded me. - He continued with a laugh, stroking your head. - But she just served me this insanely delicious soup, kissing me on the top of my head...God rest her soul.