Madam Yi’s Songp’yŏn: A Cultural, Historical, and Culinary Analysis
Songpyeon (송편) are small, crescent-moon shaped rice cakes central to Korea’s Chuseok (Mid-Autumn) harvest festival. Made from finely milled rice flour dough and filled with sweet fillings like sesame seeds with honey, red bean paste, or chestnut, these chewy steamed cakes carry deep symbolic meaning in Korean culture. Traditionally, families gather to hand-craft songpyeon during Chuseok, sharing them with relatives and neighbors as a gesture of respect and gratitude for the year’s harvest. Songpyeon’s name itself reflects its preparation: song (松) means pine tree and pyeon (䭏) means rice cake, alluding to the unique method of steaming the cakes over pine needles. Although popular and symbolic in today’s society, I hope to take you across my explorations of the origins and evolution of songpyeon as an iconic Chuseok food, its cultural significance and traditional preparation, and Madam Yi’s inclusion of this recipe in her Encyclopedia, all coming to exemplify a living tradition and cultural heritage of Korean identity.
Gyuhap Chongseo
The recipe that I drew on for this Rework project was in the Gyuhap Chongseo, or Encyclopedia of Women's Lives, written by Madam Yi Pinghŏgak, in the Joseon Dynasty.
Songpyeon’s association with Chuseok has ancient roots, though its role and form have evolved over time. Early records from the Chosŏn Dynasty (1392–1897) describe rice cakes reminiscent of songpyeon in seasonal customs texts. The 1849 encyclopedic work Dongguk Sesigi notes that during the first full moon of the lunar year, rice flour dumpling-like cakes were made, possibly an early reference to songpyeon. One historical account traces songpyeon’s origin to a practice on Chunghwajeol (the first full moon of the year): families would hang ears of grain outside their door, and on the morning of the full moon they used those grains to make rice cakes to reward servants. By the Joseon era, songpyeon was also made from newly harvested rice each autumn and offered during Chuseok memorial rites at family ancestral tombs. These practices linked songpyeon to themes of agricultural abundance and thanksgiving, planting the seeds for its later identity as a harvest festival food.
Over time, songpyeon became firmly established as the representative Chuseok food. The evolution was influenced by socio-cultural shifts in the 20th century. According to one study on songpyeon’s development as a Chuseok staple, several factors in modern Korean history converged to elevate songpyeon’s status. The tradition of “nonggong gamsa”, or thanking farm laborers with special foods at seasonal intervals, contributed to songpyeon’s popularity during harvest time. So too did a cultural view of songpyeon as a symbol of abundance and prosperity, making it an auspicious food for celebrating plenty. Practical changes like improvements in rice self-sufficiency and urban migration (which increased nostalgia for agrarian traditions) also played a role. Additionally, the expansion of Chuseok as a public holiday in the 20th century and the Confucian emphasis on offering bizneun-tteok (shaped rice cakes like songpyeon) in ancestral rites reinforced songpyeon’s prominence. These combined influences meant that by the 1970s, songpyeon had solidified its place as the definitive food of Chuseok in Korea. What was once one of many regional rice cakes became a national symbol of Chuseok, illustrating how tradition can be consciously shaped by cultural and historical context.
Cultural Significance and Traditions
Songpyeon carries rich symbolic meanings tied to the moon, fertility, and gratitude. Its distinctive half-moon shape is often explained through folkloric symbolism. Many Koreans believe the round full moon, while beautiful, can only wane, whereas a half-moon will continue to wax and become full – a metaphor for growth, abundance and hope for prosperity. Thus the half-moon shaped songpyeon reflects wishes for increase and future abundance rather than a peak that might fade. Before being folded and filled, a piece of songpyeon dough in one’s hand resembles a full moon, and folding it creates the half-moon final shape – embodying the transition from potential to maturity. In line with this lunar symbolism, families traditionally made wishes for good fortune while shaping and eating songpyeon during Chuseok. An old Korean adage even promises that whoever crafts beautiful songpyeon will find an attractive spouse or bear a beautiful child, attaching personal good luck to the care put into each rice cake.
Songpyeon is also deeply embedded in ancestral veneration rituals and communal sharing. On Chuseok morning, it is customary to arrange songpyeon on the memorial table (차례 charye) along with freshly harvested fruits and taro. These offerings symbolize the fruits of heaven (songpyeon, made from heavenly grain), earth (fruit), and underground (taro), collectively giving thanks for the year’s bounty. After the rites, songpyeon are shared among family and neighbors. This practice of sharing signifies respect, kinship, and the avoidance of bad luck through generosity. Historically, songpyeon have featured in other family ceremonies as well – for example, small five-colored songpyeon might be prepared for a baby’s hundredth day celebration (백일) or first birthday, symbolizing hopes for the child’s health and happiness. While Chuseok is the primary occasion, these usages show songpyeon’s role in marking life’s milestones in Korean culture.
Regionally, songpyeon took on local characteristics that persist as beloved variations today. In Seoul and Gyeonggi province, households favor osaek songpyeon, the “five-color” songpyeon dyed naturally with ingredients like mugwort (green), gardenia or pumpkin (yellow), cockscomb flower or beet (red), omija berry (pink), and black rice or other coloring for purple. The five hues represent the harmony of nature’s five elements. In the breadbasket province of Chungcheong, pumpkin songpyeon made by mixing dried pumpkin powder into the dough is common, often molded to resemble tiny pumpkins – a bright orange tribute to the region’s harvest. Coastal regions like Jeolla add boiled ramie leaves (mosi) to their dough, yielding a distinctive herbal flavor and green color, and sometimes make larger, flatter songpyeon resembling filled dumplings. In Gangwon, where potatoes are plentiful, potato starch may be mixed in the rice dough, or acorn flour is added in some areas, creating earthier brown songpyeon. Despite these local twists in ingredients and shape, the cultural significance – family togetherness, gratitude to ancestors, and celebration of the harvest – remains consistent across the peninsula. This regional diversity alongside shared meaning underscores songpyeon’s dual identity as both a unifying national tradition and a canvas for local culinary creativity.
Traditional Recreation
Ingredients Used:
Rice Flour
Red bean paste
Salt
Black Pepper powder
Cinnamon
Honey
Ginger Powder
Pine Needles
Of All the ingredients to track down, retrieving the pine needles posed to be the greatest challenge of them all.
Additionally, Madam Yi’s instructions noticeably had no clear directions on time or amount of each ingredient to use, clearly representing the need for tacit knowledge amongst Madam Yi’s intended audience. However, to maintain the spirit of recreation, I did not utilize any outside sources, only looking at explicit measurements or modern instructions after the recreation was complete.
The rice flour was finely sieved, mixed with salt and water, and then kneaded into a dough. The dough was then steamed and pounded, per the instructions.
For the filling, red bean paste, honey, black pepper, cinnamon powder, and ginger powder were all added together, and I took the liberty of making adjustments based upon what I gauged to be the right ratio of ingredients.
Then, following Madam Yi’s instructions, the dough was stretched thinly, the filling was added, and then the dough was shaped into a half moon.
And finally, the songpyeon were steamed with pine needles, which I timed to be around 14 minutes in medium heat.
Reflections on Recreation
Given the nature of the recreation, it was very much taking what I assumed to be the direction of Madam Yi into practice, but if I could perform this recreation again, I would have had better measurements for the water to rice flour ratio, as well as in the initial steaming process. Finding the right measurements for the filling was also a substantial challenge, but was still quite enjoyable in the attempt of balancing out the flavor profiles.
In regards to the taste, I thoroughly enjoyed the songpyeon! The spices of the ginger powder, black pepper powder, and cinnamon powder were quite unique when combined in this form, but it stood out in taste was even a bit enjoyable.
Modern Reinterpretations and Commercial Adaptations
While the core of songpyeon’s identity is traditional, modern Korean society has shown great creativity in reinterpreting this beloved rice cake for new generations. Commercialization and urban lifestyles have transformed how songpyeon is produced and consumed. Many busy families today opt to purchase songpyeon from professional tteok (rice cake) shops or supermarkets rather than making them at home. Tteok artisans, in response, have diversified their offerings, introducing novel flavors, colors, and even shapes to appeal to consumers. For instance, beyond the classic half-moon, one can find songpyeon molded into whimsical forms like flowers, leaves, or fruit shapes. A contemporary trend has been to make songpyeon that look like miniature peaches, persimmons, or apples, complete with natural food coloring to match the fruit and fillings flavored with corresponding ingredients. Bon Appétit magazine featured one such recipe for apple-shaped songpyeon filled with brown sugar, honey, and sesame, demonstrating how far the presentation can stray from the simple crescents of the past. Yet, even these playful designs honor the tradition in their own way – they still use rice flour dough and are served during Chuseok season, bridging old and new.
Another modern twist is the use of non-traditional ingredients to flavor or color the dough. While mugwort and pumpkin have long been used, today some makers experiment with ingredients like green tea (matcha) powder for a tea-infused green songpyeon, or freeze-dried strawberry powder for a naturally pink hue. These additions can introduce new aromas and tastes that appeal to contemporary palates while keeping the rice cake fundamentally recognizable. Even the fillings have expanded: aside from the time-honored sesame-honey mix or sweet red bean paste, creative fillings such as chocolate, sweet pumpkin, or even savory mixtures with cheeses have emerged in boutique tteok shops. Such innovations, however, are usually offered alongside the standard varieties during Chuseok, indicating that the traditional and the modern coexist rather than compete. In marketing these new creations, companies often emphasize the artisanal nature of songpyeon and its cultural story, suggesting that adding a twist is a form of celebrating heritage with personal expression.
Internationally, songpyeon has begun to gain recognition as part of the Korean wave of food culture. Korean diaspora communities hold Chuseok events where making songpyeon is a featured activity, educating younger generations abroad about their heritage. In some cases, Koreans have drawn contrasts between songpyeon and the mooncakes of China’s Mid-Autumn Festival, highlighting songpyeon’s uniqueness – a lighter, smaller rice cake steamed with pine needles versus the dense baked pastries of the Chinese tradition. Global food media have picked up on this narrative: for example, songpyeon was described as Korea’s version of a mooncake, packed with symbolic meaning and seasonal ingredients, in a Michelin Guide feature. Such exposure drives interest in tasting and even attempting to make songpyeon among non-Koreans, some of whom can now find factory-produced songpyeon in Asian grocery stores. The challenge of keeping the cakes soft and moist during distribution means most exported songpyeon are sold frozen – a practical adaptation, as consumers simply steam or microwave them hot when ready to eat. Frozen distribution is another modern adaptation ensuring that this once strictly seasonal treat can be enjoyed year-round.
Despite all these changes, the cultural essence of songpyeon remains intact. It continues to symbolize gratitude, unity, and hopes for prosperity. Even when a family buys their songpyeon, the act of gathering to share them on Chuseok night under the bright harvest moon – perhaps pausing to make a wish with the first bite – is a continuity of the past. The rice cake itself has proven remarkably resilient as a cultural icon. From Lady Yi’s 1800s recipe with ginger-spiced red beans, to a 2020s high-tech retort-pack on a supermarket shelf, songpyeon carries forward the taste of Korean heritage. Modern reinterpretations and commercial products simply add new chapters to the songpyeon story, ensuring that this steamed rice cake remains alive in the Korean imagination.
Conclusion
Songpyeon’s journey through history – from a simple harvest dumpling to the emblematic food of Chuseok and a subject of scientific research – epitomizes the dynamic interplay between tradition and change in Korean food culture. Its origins grounded in agricultural rituals and ancestral offerings have given it an aura of gratitude and auspiciousness that persists today. Culturally, songpyeon binds generations: elders recount the meanings behind its half-moon shape and pine needle fragrance, while youngsters experiment with novel flavors, all partaking in the shared custom each autumn. The preparation of songpyeon, whether by hand in a rural kitchen or by machine in a modern factory, remains a labor of love that connects people to nature’s cyclical gifts. At the same time, the challenges of preserving a rice cake in a modern context have spurred innovative solutions like retort sterilization – a testament to how science can reinforce and expand the reach of culinary traditions without erasing their identity. The contrasts between historical accounts and modern adaptations of songpyeon are striking: a 19th-century noblewoman’s cookbook details delicate techniques and spiritual care in making each cake, while a 21st-century food science article details thermal processing times to eliminate bacteria. Yet both perspectives converge on a common respect for this food. In conclusion, Songpyeon exemplifies a living tradition – one that carries deep historical and symbolic weight, adapts through time, and continues to nourish both body and soul every Chuseok. It is more than just a rice cake; it is a cultural heritage that Koreans proudly preserve and reinvent, ensuring that each bite of songpyeon is as meaningful today as it was centuries ago.
Sources:
Lady Yi. “Steamed Pine Rice Cakes (Songp’yŏn).” In The Encyclopedia of Daily Life: A Woman’s Guide to Living in Late-Chosŏn Korea, translated by Kim Yung-Hee, 92–93. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2021.
Kim, Yong-gap. “추석 대표 음식으로서 송편의 발달 배경 [Development Background of Songpyeon as Chuseok’s Representative Food].” Inmun Nonchong 75, no. 2 (2018): 185–223. https://doi.org/10.17326/jhsnu.75.2.201805.185.
Kim, Eun-Young, and Hye-Young Kim. “Study on Pyeon (Tteok) of Jong-ga Ancestral Ritual Food.” Journal of the Korean Society of Food Culture 30, no. 4 (2015): 372–379. https://www.jfc.or.kr/journal/article.php?code=35912.
Kim, Ji-Hee, Hyun-Jung Chung, Sang Ho Choi, and Jong-Bang Eun. “Effect of Retort Sterilization on Microbial Safety and Quality Characteristics of a Rice Cake, Songpyeon.” Food Science and Biotechnology 25, no. 4 (2016): 1047–1052. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10068-016-0169-5.
Korea.net. “Songpyeon Varieties Across Korea.” Last modified September 13, 2016. https://www.korea.net/NewsFocus/Culture/view?articleId=140612.
Lee, Christina. “How to Make Chewy Songpyeon for Chuseok.” Bon Appétit, September 7, 2022. https://www.bonappetit.com/story/songpyeon-recipe.
