When Vietnamese chicken Pho “joined the feast” of Chuseok in Korea
After eight years of studying and living in South Korea, Mr. Nguyen Truong Quan, a member of the BA team at FPT Korea (FKR), celebrated his eighth Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving or Mid-Autumn Festival) in the land of kimchi. For him, Chuseok is not just a holiday, but a time filled with emotions — where he experiences culture, shares love, and feels the true meaning of family in a very special way.
The atmosphere of Chuseok is always bustling and heartwarming. In the cozy kitchen of his “second family” — the parents of a close university friend who has welcomed and loved him as their own son — Quan joined everyone in preparing traditional dishes for the festival. He shared that Jeon, the colorful and flavorful Korean-style pancake, is the soul of the feast, symbolizing abundance and togetherness. The whole family gathered to slice vegetables, fry the pancakes, and laugh together amid the sizzling sound of hot oil. Next came Japchae — a mixed glass noodle dish that requires patience and precision in every step, from prepping vegetables to mixing soy sauce and sesame oil. Meanwhile, Galbijjim — braised beef short ribs — symbolizes gratitude to ancestors, its rich aroma filling the house with warmth and joy.
If the Mid-Autumn Festival in Vietnam is about the full moon and festive treats, Chuseok in Korea is marked by the “Charye” ritual — a ceremonial offering to honor ancestors. Quan shared: “I didn’t just watch; I also helped the family prepare the offerings according to tradition. Every dish and item was arranged carefully and respectfully.” That moment, he said, was when he truly felt the spirit of Chuseok — the bond between generations, gratitude, and family affection.
The most special part came on the final day of the holiday. Quan decided to bring a taste of his homeland to his Korean family by cooking Vietnamese Chicken Pho. “The aroma of the broth simmered from bones, star anise, cinnamon, and cardamom filled the entire house — so different from the usual scent of kimchi or stews,” Quan recalled. “Watching everyone enjoy the pho, finishing every drop of soup, and praising how delicious it was — my heart felt so warm.” That meal was not only a culinary gift but also a bridge between two cultures — a heartfelt way for him to express gratitude to those who had treated him like family in a foreign land.
For Quan, Chuseok is more than a festival of thanksgiving — it’s a symbol of connection and sharing. “If the Mid-Autumn Festival in Vietnam is about moonlight and mooncakes,” he reflected, “then Chuseok in Korea is the aroma of Jeon, Japchae, and Galbijjim filling a cozy kitchen.”
This year’s Chuseok was especially meaningful for Quan — it carried the warmth of home through the familiar taste of Vietnamese Chicken Pho, bringing a touch of Vietnam into the autumn air of Korea.
