UYal's blog

I recently picked up something called a “Mystic Peach” at the local supermarket.
Apparently, it’s a newly developed variety of peach here in Korea.

The name caught me off guard—Mystic? It felt like a name trying a bit too hard.
But right then, a wave of peach-related memories started flooding back.

There are so many types of peaches.
Here in Korea, the most common are Baekdo (white peach), Hwangdo (yellow peach), and Cheondo (nectarine).
Each has its own personality—white peaches are firmer and paler, yellow peaches are softer and golden, and nectarines tend to be more tart and crisp.
Since childhood, peaches have always symbolized summer for me.

The juice trickling down my wrist, the soft aroma in the air,
and that gentle, quiet sweetness that lingers in the mouth—
Not too much, not too bold. Just right.
That’s exactly why I’ve always loved peaches.

But peaches aren’t just about taste.
In Korean culture and beyond, they carry symbolism and stories.

In the Chinese epic Romance of the Three Kingdoms, there’s a famous scene called “The Oath of the Peach Garden,”
where three warriors swear brotherhood beneath a peach tree—
the tree itself symbolizing loyalty and sacred bonds.

There’s also a quirky memory tied to a Korean drink called “2% 부족할 때” (When You’re 2% Short).
It was a light, peach-flavored soft drink that was wildly popular in the early 2000s.
Even the name itself captured a certain feeling—like the peach flavor was always just subtly there, never overwhelming.

Interestingly, in traditional Korean ancestral rites, peaches are not placed on ceremonial tables.
Why? Because peaches were believed to ward off spirits,
and inviting ancestors back home while putting out a spirit-repelling fruit would’ve been… well, awkward.
So they were left out—delicious, but spiritually inconvenient.

I also used to live in a village called Shin-an-ri (神安里)—
the name literally means “peace for spirits”.
It was said to be a place with strong yin energy.
Ironically—or maybe perfectly fitting—the region’s specialty was peaches.
People said peaches were planted there deliberately to keep things “balanced,” if you know what I mean.
Strangely enough, they really were the tastiest peaches I’ve ever had.
I still don’t know if that was just coincidence or a touch of fate.

And of course, I can’t forget the last peach-related story of them all—ordering canned yellow peaches (hwangdo) at a bar.
If you’ve ever done this in Korea, you’ll know the drill.
There’s always someone who says: “Why are you paying for that?”
But still, you order it.
A cold slice of syrup-soaked peach after a few shots of soju hits just right—
like biting into the tail end of summer.

All of this came back to me because of one “Mystic Peach.”
Funny how a new fruit can awaken such old memories.
To me, peaches aren’t just fruit.
They linger longer in the heart than in the mouth.
And sometimes, they even make you pause and look back at where you’ve been.

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💬 Do you have a peach-related memory or story?
Whether it’s about your favorite variety, or your own “Mystic Peach moment,”
I’d love to hear it in the comments! 🍑

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