Do Ga Ni Tong Quarantine version

We've hit 100+ degree highs all week - not exactly hot soup weather. But here I am, enjoying do ga ni tang this morning in a world where nothing is normal anymore. The ritual of seasoning my soup has been disrupted by the lack of black pepper. None was included in my takeout order. I've ordered takeout because seating is only allowed outdoors, and it's going to be 87 degrees outside by the time I'm done eating.

It's not all bad, the view of the back yard from my window is a serene one. I'm pleased when I see that they've packed a double portion of spicy radish kimchi along with a container of spicy green onion kimchi. The chunks of tendon in my soup are huge. A chunk fills the container with the dipping sauce to the brim, and as I slowly chew through several pieces, I am greatly comforted, perhaps even more due to the contrast of the crunchy radish kimchi, assertive if not downright intrusive in its garlicky spiciness. But it's the spicy green onions/chives that force me to break out in a sweat after a mouthful, and I find myself chewing them longer than I'd expected to. 

The thin plastic takeout bowl has served its function; I've gotten my food home without incident, but it lacks the ability to retain heat the way a regular serving bowl would, and my soup has gotten cold. But I plug on, and after consuming the last large chunk of tendon, I'm pleased to discover much smaller pieces of tendon among the noodles and green onion left in the bowl and i consume them without bothering with the dipping sauce. I finish the last mouthful of rice, discovered that I've reached critical mass, and combine the remaining banchan into a single container, seal it, and contemplate how to spend the rest of my weekend.