I had intended to catch up on some work, but I suddenly felt drained. Not wanting to waste the food, I reheated the leftovers in the microwave and took some kkakdugi (cubed radish kimchi) out of the refrigerator. The chicken feet tasted heavenly and the rice balls were much better than any I had ever made. I don’t know if it was the tasty food that did it, but the situation began to take on a different hue. Yes, the children had purposely left some of the food for me. If they were planning to go undetected, then surely they would have cleaned everything up. Thanks to them, I didn’t have to worry about making breakfast.

First outraged and then placated by chicken feet, I tried to take out the food garbage but the front door was blocked. I pushed hard and saw a delivery box through the opening. What’s this? It contained raw salmon with sauce, steak and vegetables, and even saeujang, shrimp preserved in soy sauce. These were semi-cooked dishes – just open the container, pour the sauce over the food and heat it up in the microwave. Those darned kids! Were they really ordering food that could be made at home?

When I was in my twenties and thirties, ordering food was unthinkable, except for an occasional bowl of jjajangmyeon (noodles in black bean sauce) or box of fried chicken. Preparing meals was assumed to be a daily task. Neither the internet nor the delivery industry was well developed when my two children were small. Weekly trips to the supermarket were necessary and the family’s shopping cart overflowed.

When delivery of heavy items such as bottled water, rice or gochujang (red pepper paste) became easily available, women felt liberated from the burden of carrying bulky goods. For me, delivery has come to mean the convenience of buying things without putting in the legwork. But it’s different for my children. Using apps on their phones, they order not only daily necessities but cooked food as well. These days, it’s possible to get dishes delivered from famous restaurants where people line up to eat. Braised pig’s trotters and boiled seasoned pork (jokbal and bossam), beef intestines (gopchang), rice cakes in spicy sauce (tteokbokgi), and even pasta! My children are relishing the golden age of delivery – but I have misgivings.

As my kids ordered food from famous restaurants, urging me to try one dish or another, my ions began to mount. Cooking food at home means we can save money. Why go to the trouble of getting it delivered and paying an expensive delivery fee? Delivery, for me, is an option for efficiency; I can’t help but think my children indulge in luxury. From my point of view, home-delivered food is not entirely welcome. Sometimes, I feel like I stepped straight out of the olden days.

Amid the COVID-19 pandemic, delivery without human contact soared – and remained high – as shoppers ordered online and arranged for purchases to be left outside their door. © gettyimages

As I examined the box of fresh food, various thoughts welling up in my mind, my daughter came out of her room.

“Wow! It came so quickly. Mom, I ordered those preserved shrimp that you like – to make breakfast for you.” She fussed about, washing the packaged vegetables and placing them on a wicker tray, putting the steak in the air fryer, and arranging the shrimp on a plate.

“Mom! I can’t promise to do this often, but every now and then I’ll prepare breakfast for you like this. I even set my alarm to do this. Don’t you think this website is fabulous? It’s a bit more expensive than other sites, but it’s famous for its really fresh food. I ordered this stuff specially, even if it’s a bit more expensive, because you’re the one who’s going to eat it. So, what do you think? Your daughter’s a lot better than your son, right?”

My daughter was so pleased to think that she had prepared breakfast for me. Looking at her smiling face, I couldn’t bring myself to scold her by retorting, “What? Now you’re even getting breakfast delivered?” Instead, I smoothed out my grimace, gave a forced smile and sat down at the table.

“Mom! These are no ordinary preserved shrimp. There’s a really good Japanese restaurant in Gangnam and the shrimp are delivered straight from there. They’re expensive. I know you’d never order them for yourself so I ordered them for you. Don’t ask how much everything cost. Don’t argue. Don’t even ask. Please, just enjoy the food. Alright?”

My daughter, who knows me better than I do, was preempting any rebukes about wasting money. As she urged me to hurry up and taste the renowned shrimp, I gave in and popped one of them in my mouth. It had a pleasantly pungent taste, probably because of the ginger, and was neither too rich nor fishy. And the flesh just melted in my mouth.

Okay, so she hadn’t wasted money on something useless. She had saved her pocket money to buy food to prepare breakfast for me. If I refused this, then I would be a really strange mother. In a case like this, the best thing to do would be to just enjoy the food. I was trying the various dishes that were laid out when my phone rang.

“Hey, Myoung-lang! Did you send me lettuce leaves for ssam [rice wrapped in leafy greens]? Why did you bother? Lettuce leaves are cheap these days. I can get them from the local supermarket, why did you go to the trouble of sending them?”

It was my eldest aunt, who lives in Incheon.

“I bought a box myself. They pack the leaves right after they receive the order, which is probably why they’re so fresh. And there are a lot of varieties that you can’t get in the supermarket. I knew you wouldn’t buy them for yourself so I bought them for you. Just enjoy them!”

At this my aunt replied, “You’re right. I’ve never seen some of these varieties before. And they’re so fresh. It’s so nice to get them, but I don’t want you to use your money on us.” Saying she felt bad about the money, she thanked me again and again. And over and over I repeated that it was alright, that I was glad to do it. My daughter grinned at me.

“Wow, Mom! You know how to get food delivered, too.”

“What, you think I don’t know how to order stuff?”

I gave her a sideways look and laughed merrily.

Young Koreans are increasingly seeing delivery of food for a family dinner or special meal for guests as a practical option to eliminate grocery shopping, preparation and cooking. © Shutterstock

To be honest, I’m still not entirely happy with having meals delivered to the house. But for people who live alone or aren’t very good at cooking, the service may be a more logical choice. With the time that it takes to prepare, cook and clean up, they can do something else. Also, if we consider that preparing meals tends to be a household chore unilaterally imposed on women, food delivery may be the catalyst that eases the load and democratizes the home. Men may not always have to rely on their wives’ hands to produce their meals.

Though different generations still have differing principles for using delivery services, this new “culture” which has naturally permeated our everyday lives will hopefully turn out to be a blessing for our times. With that thought, I put a piece of golden brown steak in my mouth.