No Refrigerator, No Air Conditioning. Just a Tree That Bloomed for a Hundred Days and a Pancake Made From Its Flowers

 No Refrigerator, No Air Conditioning. Just a Tree That Bloomed for a Hundred Days and a Pancake Made From Its Flowers

There was no refrigerator in the house. No air conditioning either. Summer just arrived and stayed, thick and unmoving, for months. What we had instead was a tree in the yard that bloomed white for what felt like the entire season, and on certain afternoons, my grandmother would pick a handful of its petals, mix them into batter, and fry them into a thin pancake.

I don't remember it tasting particularly good. What I remember is that it was something to eat when there wasn't much else, and that biting into it, crisp at the edges, somehow felt cool in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. It was food that made you feel like summer had given you something back, instead of just taking.

 A Tree Built to Outlast the Heat

The tree is *Lagerstroemia indica*, crape myrtle, called baengnyeong-namu (배롱나무) in Korean, or more commonly baekilhong (백일홍) — "hundred-day red," a name coined for the red and purple varieties that dominate most plantings, though white varieties like this one bloom just as long. The name refers to the tree's most remarkable trait: rather than a brief, spectacular bloom that fades in a week or two like most flowering trees, crape myrtle keeps producing new clusters continuously through the hottest, most punishing stretch of the Korean summer, often holding color for close to a hundred days straight.

Look closely at an individual flower and you'll see why it's called crape myrtle in English: each petal is thin and deeply crinkled, almost tissue-like, resembling crepe paper more than typical flower petals. The blooms cluster into large, cone-shaped panicles at the branch tips, with long, curling yellow stamens arching out from the center of each flower like tiny fishing lines cast outward.

 A Tree for Scholars, and a Tree for Hungry Summers

In Korea, crape myrtle carries weight beyond the garden. It was traditionally planted at seowon, the Confucian academies where scholars studied, and near ancestral graves and shrines — chosen deliberately for its long, unbroken blooming period, which was read as a symbol of constancy and integrity that didn't waver under pressure, much like the character a scholar was expected to cultivate. It's a tree associated, quite specifically, with an incorruptible mind.

That symbolism sat at a comfortable distance from how my family actually used it. Nobody in my house was thinking about Confucian virtue when the petals went into the batter. We were thinking about getting through August with what was on hand, and about a food that felt refreshing on a day when nothing else did. The same tree that scholars planted to represent unwavering principle was, for us, simply something edible growing close enough to reach.

 Identification Notes

Look for a small to medium deciduous tree or large shrub with smooth, mottled bark that peels in patches, often described as feeling almost polished to the touch. Leaves are oval and glossy dark green. Flowers appear in large, cone-shaped clusters at the ends of branches through mid to late summer, each individual bloom made up of crinkled, papery petals surrounding a cluster of long, curved stamens. White-flowered varieties like this one are less common than the red and purple forms typically planted for ornament, but they follow the same long, heat-defying bloom period.

 A Closing Thought

Some plants get remembered for what they symbolize. This one gets remembered, in my family at least, for what it fed us on the hottest afternoon of the year — which may be its own kind of constancy, just quieter than the one carved into scholars' gardens.

 Disclaimer: This article is for educational and identification purposes only. It is not dietary or medical advice. Historical or traditional consumption of flowers does not guarantee safety for all individuals; always positively identify any plant before consuming any part of it, and consult a qualified herbalist or medical professional regarding edibility and potential allergies before eating flowers or other plant material.