jeongmitea

  🍵 Why I Made Goji Tea in a 5-Liter Pot When I lived in Korea, my eyes were not good. My eldest son's eyes were not good either. I heard goji berry tea is good for the eyes. So I decided to try it. I did not make a small cup. I made a big 5-liter pot. I served it cold in summer. And the taste? Honestly, it was sour. I did not like it. My son did not like it either. I do not remember my mother or grandmother making this tea. This was my own try. I made it because people said it was good for the body. Now I live in Adelaide. I want to share what I know about this tea and how I would make it better today. 🌿 What Is Gugija-cha? Gugija-cha (구기자차) is a traditional Korean tea. It is made from dried goji berries. In Korean, goji berries are called gugija (구기자). The berries are small and red. You can find them in Korean cooking too. People add them to soups, herbal chicken dishes, and traditional drinks. In Korea, they are known as a traditional herbal ingredient. Many peop...

  I heard that lemon-cheong became popular in Korea long after yuja-cha, almost like its cheaper, easier cousin. My mother never made it when I was young — yuja was always the fruit we preserved, not lemon. But I remember, maybe ten or fifteen years ago, seeing jars of golden lemon syrup start appearing on Korean cooking shows, and everyone talking about how simple it was. I don't remember exactly when I first tried it myself, but I do remember thinking: why didn't we do this sooner? What Is Lemon-cheong? Lemon-cheong (레몬청) is thinly sliced lemon preserved in sugar, left to sit until the fruit releases its juice and turns into a thick, fragrant syrup. "Cheong" (청) simply means a sweetened preserve — the same word used for yuja-cheong, maesil-cheong, and other fruit syrups that are a quiet backbone of Korean home kitchens. Unlike yuja-cha, which uses a specific Korean citron, lemon-cheong can be made with any lemon, which I think is part of why it caught on so wide...

When I think of summer in Korea, one drink that immediately comes to mind is misugaru. For me, it is much more than just a traditional Korean grain drink—it brings back fond memories of my family and childhood. During the hot Korean summers, my family would make a big glass of cold misugaru with plenty of ice. We would all sit together and drink it slowly, enjoying its cool, nutty taste. Nothing fancy, but those simple summer moments have stayed with me ever since. What Is Misugaru? Misugaru (미숫가루) is a traditional Korean roasted grain powder made by roasting, drying, and finely grinding various grains and beans. Depending on the recipe, it often contains a blend of nourishing ingredients such as: Barley Brown rice & glutinous rice Millet & sorghum Soybeans & black beans Corn Because the grains are roasted before grinding, misugaru offers a warm, nutty, and toasted flavor. Today, you can easily buy prepared misugaru powder in Korean supermarkets. Still, in the past...

Growing up in a Korean household, tea was never just something you drank when you were thirsty. It was medicine when you were sick, comfort when you were tired, and sometimes even a quiet ritual before bed. Long before I ever thought about writing a blog, these teas were simply part of everyday life at home. Looking back now, from Adelaide, I realize how much each one carries its own memory. Here are five traditional Korean teas that shaped my childhood, and that I still turn to today — along with the stories behind them. 1. Maesil-cha (매실차) — Green Plum Tea My mother always kept a jar of maesil syrup in the kitchen, tucked away for exactly one purpose: whenever I complained of a stomachache, out it came. In Korean households, maesil-cha has long been treated as a gentle home remedy for digestion, and my mother swore by it. To this day, I still buy the syrup rather than making it from scratch — some habits from childhood just stick. I've even started using it in meat marinades, whe...

  Something Was Off About the Ginger Here The first time I made saenggang-cha in Adelaide, something felt wrong. It wasn't bad, exactly — just... quieter. Back in Korea, ginger tea had a sharp, almost aggressive spice to it, the kind that hit the back of your throat before the sweetness even registered. Here, the same recipe, the same ratios, and the ginger just sat there being pleasant. Mild. Almost polite. It took me a while to realize the ginger itself was the difference, not my recipe. Ginger varies significantly by climate, soil, and variety — Korean ginger, especially the kind grown in regions known for it, tends to be more pungent than the ginger commonly sold in Australian supermarkets. So if you've made this tea before with Korean ginger and are trying it again with local ginger, don't be surprised if it tastes like a gentler cousin of what you remember. It's not a mistake — it's just a different ginger. A Cup I Didn't Want as a Kid I didn't grow up...

    Korea's Café-Style Omija Ade — Made in 5 Minutes at Home Walk into any trendy café in Seoul during summer, and you'll see it on the menu: a tall glass, layered ruby-red, fizzing gently, with a lemon slice perched on the rim. That's Omija Ade — and it's one of the easiest "fancy" drinks you'll ever make. If you're new to omija (the Korean five-flavor berry) and want the full backstory — what it tastes like, its history, hot vs. cold serving — I covered all of that here . This post skips straight to the recipe. Why This Drink Works So Well Most fruit sodas are just sugar and food coloring. Omija Ade is different — the syrup itself carries a natural sour-sweet-bitter complexity, so even a simple soda water mix tastes layered instead of flat and one-note sweet. It's also nearly effortless. No stovetop, no waiting, no special equipment. What You'll Need Omija syrup — 3–4 tablespoons (the concentrated syrup, not dried berries — look for it at K...