the dangers of overly literal translation

Look at this picture:

Next to the giant, blue-font lettering, you see a sentence-like or caption-like bit of language off to the right of it, in black font. The locution contains a "1" and a "12." With me so far? You should be, even if you don't read Korean. The chunk of text that says "1 년 12 달" basically means "12 months out of the year." It's the rest of the text that I found hard to translate. If you translate the rest of the text in a slavishly literal way, you get:

계절을 = the season(s)
요리하다 = to cook

This seems to be saying, "[We] cook the seasons," but that makes little sense in English. Who has the godlike power to cook entire seasons? The white-font text in the lower-right corner of the photo offers a hint about what is meant, though:

계절 반찬 전문 (gyejeol banchan jeonmun)

계절 (gyejeol) = season, seasonal
반찬 (banchan) = side dish(es)
전문 (jeonmun) = specialist(s), expert(s)

So: experts in seasonal side dishes.

I ran this translation problem past my Korean-fluent boss and our Korean coworker. The boss agreed that the literal translation went nowhere and was pretty much nonsense. As we discussed the matter, the translation that arose from our discussion was something along the lines of "side dishes for all seasons." This was based on my insistence that we arrive at a translation that would make marketing sense from an English-speaker's perspective. "We cook the seasons" obviously doesn't make the grade. The boss pointed out that, while yori-hada (요리하다, as you saw above) is often translated "to cook," the anglophone concept of cooking normally entails heat, but Koreans use the yori verb even when talking about food prep that doesn't involve heat. The boss gave sashimi prep as an example of heatless yori.

Can anyone think of a better way to translate that sign?

I should note that that place just underwent a name change. The store used to be called Jo Mi Ja Banchan Yeonguso (조미자 반찬 연구소), with the dodgy English rendering of "Jo Mi Ja Food Lab." A yeonguso is, more precisely, a research center or research institute. "Food lab" kind-of works, but the English rendering sacrifices the idea of side dishes; banchan is a traditional Korean cultural trope. Once you're inside the store, you can grab a metal-wire basket and pluck various plastic-packaged side-dish items from the racks and shelves. The store's name, both then and now, is misleading: the place also sells main-course-sized soups, stews, and salads—not just side dishes. Everything is just a tad overpriced, but the quality of the food is quite good, given that everything is made fresh on the premises.

So go now, my children, and cook some seasons.