Deul-kkae Tang: The Quiet Comfort of Perilla Seed Soup in Temple Food
Not all food is meant to impress. Some meals are meant to comfort, to restore, and to quietly bring the body and mind back into balance. In Korean temple food, deul-kkae tang, perilla seed soup, represents this softer purpose of eating.
After the crisp satisfaction of shiitake mushroom gangjeong, deul-kkae tang shifts the emotional tone of the meal. It is warm, gentle, and deeply grounding. This is not a dish that demands attention. It invites stillness.
In temple cuisine, nourishment is not about intensity. It is about care.
Understanding Deul-kkae: The Essence of Perilla Seeds
Perilla seeds may be unfamiliar to many outside Korea, but they have long held an important place in traditional cooking. Slightly larger and more aromatic than sesame seeds, perilla seeds offer a naturally nutty and earthy flavor.
When ground and simmered, they release a creamy richness without the need for dairy or heavy fats. This quality makes them especially valued in temple food, where animal products are avoided and simplicity is essential.
Rather than standing out boldly, perilla seeds blend seamlessly into soups and stews. Their role is supportive, not dominant—adding depth, warmth, and quiet satisfaction.
Boya in the Temple: Nourishment Without Excess
In Korean culture, the idea of boya, or nourishment, is often associated with strengthening the body. Outside the temple, this can sometimes lead to heavy, rich, or overindulgent meals.
Temple food offers a different interpretation. Nourishment is not about consuming more. It is about restoring balance.
Deul-kkae tang reflects this philosophy. It is filling without being heavy, rich without being overwhelming. The soup provides comfort while allowing the body to rest rather than work harder to digest.
In this way, temple-style nourishment supports clarity and steadiness instead of stimulation.
Warmth, Texture, and Gentle Satiety
One of the defining qualities of deul-kkae tang is its texture. The soup is smooth and velvety, with a consistency that feels both substantial and calming. There is no sharpness, no sudden contrast—only a steady warmth that unfolds slowly.
This texture plays an important role in how the meal is experienced. Soft foods encourage slower eating. The warmth invites pause. The body relaxes.
Instead of fullness arriving suddenly, satiety settles in quietly. It is the kind of satisfaction that lingers without asking for attention.
Simplicity in the Temple Kitchen
Temple cooking values completeness over complexity. Deul-kkae tang embodies this approach. The ingredient list is short, the process unhurried, and the result deeply coherent.
Often served with seasonal vegetables or mountain greens, the soup becomes part of a balanced table rather than a standalone highlight. Each element supports the others, creating harmony instead of competition.
This simplicity reflects the temple’s broader approach to life: doing less, but doing it with care.
When the Body Slows, the Mind Follows
There is a close relationship between the pace of eating and the state of the mind. Hot, gentle foods like deul-kkae tang naturally slow the meal down. Each spoonful requires patience. Each breath aligns with warmth.
In this slowing down, awareness emerges. Thoughts soften. The act of eating becomes less about consumption and more about presence.
This is where temple food quietly teaches mindfulness—not through instruction, but through experience.
Bringing Deul-kkae Tang into Everyday Life
You do not need to live in a monastery to appreciate the role of deul-kkae tang. At home, this soup can be a thoughtful choice on days when energy feels low or the mind feels unsettled.
It is especially fitting during colder seasons or moments of transition. Served simply, without distraction, it becomes more than a meal. It becomes a pause.
What matters most is not precision, but intention—choosing warmth, choosing simplicity, and allowing yourself to rest.
Warmth as a Form of Care
Deul-kkae tang reminds us that care does not need to be dramatic. Sometimes, it is expressed through a quiet bowl of soup, shared or enjoyed alone, without urgency.
In the flow of temple food, this dish teaches us that nourishment can be gentle. That healing does not need to announce itself. And that food, when prepared with respect, can support both body and mind in subtle but lasting ways.
As we continue this series, we will turn our attention to temple-style kimchi, a dish that brings freshness and balance alongside these warming flavors.
Before moving on, consider this question:
When was the last time you allowed a meal to slow you down?