Why Do Koreans Eat Pajeon and Makgeolli When It Rains? – The Story Behind Korea's Rainy-Day Tradition

Pajeon and Makgeolli on Rainy Days

  • Rain once gave farmers a natural break from working in the fields.
  • Jeon could be made easily with grain flour and vegetables already available at home.
  • Makgeolli was a familiar traditional drink closely connected to farming life.
  • The crisp, savory taste of pajeon pairs well with cold, lightly tangy makgeolli.
  • The sizzling sound of jeon is often compared to the sound of falling rain.
Two people holding bowls of makgeolli over freshly cooked Korean pajeon on a rainy day.

Freshly cooked Korean pajeon served with makgeolli, a classic pairing many Koreans enjoy on rainy days.

Whenever it rains, the smell of Korean pancakes cooking in oil drifts through our quiet neighborhood of detached houses. I can never tell which home it is coming from, but on rainy days, the savory aroma of jeon somehow seems to travel between the houses.

As soon as raindrops begin tapping against the window, you may hear someone in Korea say:

“Should we have pajeon today?”

For many Koreans, rainy weather naturally brings pajeon and makgeolli to mind. This craving becomes especially noticeable during Korea's summer rainy season, known as Jangma, but it is not limited to summer. A gentle spring shower or a cool autumn rain can inspire the same thought.

In the previous article, we looked at how Jangma affects daily life and travel in Korea. This time, let's explore why pajeon and makgeolli appear so often on Korean tables when it rains.

Why pajeon? And why is it so often paired with makgeolli?

Where Did Korea's Rainy-Day Jeon Tradition Begin?

For much of its history, Korea was an agricultural society. When heavy rain made it difficult to work in the fields, people naturally spent more time resting at home.

It is said that they would mix wheat flour or other grain flour with ingredients such as green onions, chives, or kimchi and cook the mixture in oil. Jeon did not require expensive or unusual ingredients, and one large pancake could easily be shared by several people.

Makgeolli was also closely connected to farming life. Made by fermenting rice or other grains, it was a familiar traditional drink among agricultural workers. As a result, it was often enjoyed alongside jeon.

Of course, this does not mean that every Korean in the past ate pajeon whenever it rained.

However, the habit of resting on rainy days and making simple jeon with ingredients found at home continued for generations. That long history may help explain why pajeon and makgeolli still come to mind when rain begins to fall.

What Are Pajeon and Makgeolli?

Pajeon and makgeolli are often mentioned together, but they are two very different parts of the pairing.

Category Pajeon Makgeolli
What is it? A Korean savory pancake made with green onions and batter A traditional Korean alcoholic drink made by fermenting rice or other grains
Taste and Texture Warm and savory, with crisp edges and a soft center Smooth, slightly sweet and tangy, sometimes with light carbonation
How Is It Enjoyed? As a meal, snack, or drinking food With jeon and other dishes
Popular Varieties Pajeon, haemul pajeon, kimchi jeon, gamja jeon, and buchu jeon Fresh makgeolli, pasteurized makgeolli, and regional varieties

What Is Pajeon?

Pajeon is one of Korea's best-known types of jeon. It is made by cooking long pieces of green onion with batter in a frying pan.

Haemul pajeon, which includes seafood such as squid or shrimp, is also very popular. Koreans make many other types of jeon using kimchi, potatoes, or chives instead of green onions.

Pajeon is relatively easy to make at home.

How to Make Simple Pajeon

  1. Mix wheat flour or Korean pancake mix with water.
  2. Add green onions and any vegetables or seafood you like.
  3. Spread the batter thinly in a well-oiled pan.
  4. Cook both sides until they are golden and crisp.

Jeon is often served with a dipping sauce made from soy sauce, vinegar, and sometimes red pepper flakes.

What Is Makgeolli?

Makgeolli is a traditional Korean alcoholic drink made by fermenting rice or other grains with nuruk, a Korean fermentation starter.

It is often described in English as Korean rice wine, but its production method and texture are quite different from those of ordinary wine.

Because makgeolli is not completely filtered, it has a cloudy appearance. Depending on the product, it may taste mildly sweet, slightly sour, and gently sparkling.

Sediment can settle at the bottom of the bottle, so people usually mix it carefully before drinking. Fresh, unpasteurized makgeolli continues to ferment inside the bottle, which means it must be kept refrigerated.

The bottle should also be opened slowly because the carbonation can cause the drink to overflow.

A Small Warning About Makgeolli

Makgeolli can taste so smooth and sweet that it does not always feel like strong alcohol. But if you drink it casually like a soft drink, the effects can arrive faster than expected.

I learned this the hard way in college. I underestimated makgeolli, drank too much, and felt terrible afterward.

Grain-based alcohol does not suit me very well, so I rarely drink it now.

Why Are Pajeon and Makgeolli Eaten Together?

The main reason is the balance of flavor and temperature.

Freshly cooked pajeon is warm, rich, and savory. The edges are crisp while the center remains soft and moist. After several bites, however, the oiliness can begin to linger in your mouth.

A sip of cold makgeolli helps refresh the palate with its mild acidity and light carbonation.

Pajeon is also a classic example of anju, the Korean word for food eaten with alcohol. At restaurants specializing in jeon, people often order a platter containing several different varieties and share it over bottles of makgeolli.

What If You Only Want the Crispy Parts?

The thin outer edges of jeon are usually the crispiest, while the center tends to be softer and chewier.

One of my friends especially loves the crisp edges. Instead of filling the entire pan with batter, she leaves the middle empty and cooks the batter in a ring around the outside.

The finished jeon looks like a giant doughnut.

At first, I thought it looked funny. But after tasting it, I realized that it really did have much more of the crispy part. As my friend would say, the edges are the best part of jeon.

Does the Sound of Rain Really Make Koreans Crave Pajeon?

Do frying jeon and falling rain really sound alike?

When batter hits a hot, oiled pan, it makes a steady sizzling sound.

Many Koreans say that this sound resembles raindrops hitting a window or rooftop. This is why the idea that rain makes people crave pajeon has become such a popular explanation.

There is something strangely satisfying about hearing rain outside while jeon sizzles in the kitchen. Add the warm smell of oil and batter, and pajeon begins to feel like the perfect rainy-day food.

Is this scientifically proven?

Not exactly.

The similarity between the sounds is better understood as a memorable cultural explanation than as a scientifically proven fact.

Korea's rainy-day pajeon tradition likely developed from several influences: agricultural workers resting when rain interrupted fieldwork, the convenience of making jeon with ingredients already at home, the appeal of warm food in damp weather, and the way makgeolli complements the taste of fried pancakes.

The story about the sound of rain is simply the easiest and most entertaining explanation to remember.

Do Koreans Still Eat Pajeon and Makgeolli on Rainy Days?

Yes, they do.

People with enough time may cook pajeon or kimchi jeon at home. On busy days, they may order it through a delivery app instead.

Some visit restaurants specializing in jeon or makgeolli, while others head to traditional markets for freshly cooked bindaetteok and other kinds of Korean pancakes.

A Rainy Evening at a Jeon Alley in Gongdeok

I once lived in Gongdeok, a neighborhood in Seoul known for a group of restaurants selling many different kinds of jeon.

One rainy evening, my younger sister and I went there with our boyfriends. There were four of us altogether, and the man who later became my husband was there too.

Because the rain was quite heavy, I thought the restaurant might be quiet.

Instead, the first floor was already packed, and there were hardly any empty seats upstairs.

“Koreans really do come out for jeon when it rains.”

The restaurant served far more than pajeon. There was dongtaejeon made with pollock, donggeurangttaeng meat patties, stuffed green pepper jeon, perilla leaf jeon, sweet potato jeon, and many other varieties.

Customers chose the pieces they wanted and placed them on a plate. The restaurant then reheated the jeon before serving it.

Everyone else drank makgeolli, but I ordered beer because makgeolli tends to leave me with a long-lasting hangover.

Inside the restaurant, the sound of the rain blended with people's conversations and the smell of freshly reheated jeon.

Pajeon, however, is not eaten only on rainy days. Koreans enjoy jeon throughout the year, and many varieties also appear during traditional holidays, ancestral rites, and family gatherings.

Rain simply makes jeon come to mind a little faster.

Koreans Often Remember Weather and Seasons Through Food

Makgeolli reminds me of my father.

During the last few years of his life, he began to enjoy drinking it. Whenever our family prepared food for an ancestral rite, we usually made seven to nine different kinds of jeon.

After the ceremony was over, my father would sit down with the leftover jeon and drink makgeolli.

For me, jeon and makgeolli are not only rainy-day foods. They also bring back the image of my family sitting together after an ancestral rite.

In Korea, many foods are closely tied to weather, seasons, and special occasions.

On Boknal, the hottest days of summer, Koreans think of samgyetang. On birthdays, they eat seaweed soup. And when rain begins to fall, many naturally think of pajeon and makgeolli.

Rain does not mean that everyone must eat pajeon. But when I hear raindrops outside and catch the smell of jeon cooking somewhere nearby, the thought comes almost automatically:

“Should we make some jeon today?”

Pajeon and makgeolli carry more than flavor. They hold memories of weather and seasons, time spent with family, and ways of life that have continued for generations.