Talk about putting your back into it. This guy sure is. He's walloping the crap outta the glutinous rice dough he's got in the wooden gourd, making all kinds of whooping yells and running leaps towards and over what will become injolmi or rice cakes rolled in bean, nut or seed powder. The injolmi guys were set up just across the courtyard from the rice crispies guys, with the folk singers sandwiched between 'em. In a sing-song voice, the wielder of the oversized sledgehammer invited us to try their wares, but my aunt told him there weren't any to be had; they'd all been gobbled up. He answered: All you want is something for nothing? She replied: How do we know it's worth our money if we can't have a taste? So, we had our taste and put our money where our mouth had been. Soft and springy (thanks to all of the guy's pummeling), these are hands-down my fave type of rice cakes.
Rolling out the rice dough into bean powder and comfortable in the flowery apron—and his masculinity too.
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