Morning News
The newspaper landed on the breakfast table with a satisfying thwack, its bold headline impossible to ignore:
MOON & SON'S "PREMIUM" LINE RECALLED AFTER BAKING FIASCO
Customers Complain of "Exploding Cakes" and "Bitter Aftertaste"
Dae-ho nearly spit out his milk, his eyes widening as he scanned the article. "Look! Their head baker quit!" he crowed, stabbing his finger at a photo of a red-faced man storming out of a bakery.
Mother hid her smile behind her teacup while Father shook his head, though his lips twitched. "A shame," he said mildly, folding the paper and tucking it under his arm. "Now eat up—we've got baking to do."
(A/N- Bakingg babyyy)
The Family Bake
The kitchen smelled like heaven that noon. Warm butter, toasted nuts, and the faint floral hint of orange blossom honey. Sunlight entering through the windows, painting the flour-dusted counters in gold.
Grandfather stood at kitchen, his gnarled hands guiding Dae-ho's as they both kneaded dough for Seong-ho's famous honey twists.
"Feel the rhythm,Feel the dough dae-ho" Grandfather rumbled, pressing Dae-ho's palms into the elastic dough. "Like a heartbeat."
Mother worked beside them, rolling out pastry with effortless precision, while Father hovered near the oven, adjusting the temperature with the focus of a scientist. So-young, stood up on a stool, carefully brushed each twist with real mountain honey—the kind Seong-ho had always insisted on.
Jeong's mist curled lazily around the mixing bowls, thickening whenever someone laughed or when the scent of caramelizing sugar grew particularly strong.
The First Bite
When the pastries emerged—slightly lopsided but golden—they gathered around the worn wooden table. Grandfather hesitated before taking the first bite.
The moment the flaky crust touched his tongue, his shoulders relaxed. "...He always over-toasted the almonds," he murmured.
Mother laughed—bright and unexpected. "And you always pretended not to notice."
A chuckle rumbled from Grandfather's chest, deep and warm. Crumbs tumbled into his beard as Dae-ho stole another twist, grinning.
Father raised his teacup. "To family," he said simply.
"To family," they echoed, clinking cups and laughing as Jeong's mist swirled happily above them.
The Last Day of School
The final bell rang, and So-young ran from the classroom, her backpack bouncing as she sprinted down the school hall. Summer ahead was endless opportunity and fun.
Dae-ho caught up to her at the gates, breathless. "Hold up, lemme breath.Do you think France has bigger ovens?" he panted.
So-young rolled her eyes. "They have better ovens."
Father waited by the car, already loading their suitcases. Mother adjusted So-young's crooked collar with a smile. "Ready?"
So-young glanced back at the school one last time, then nodded.
"Ready."