jeongmitea

I'll be honest with you: before I started this series, I had never once heard of bbongnip-cha (뽕잎차). Not "never heard the name and forgot it" — genuinely, zero context. When I first saw the word "뽕" (bbong / mulberry), only two things came to mind, and neither one was tea 😅 The first was silk. I remembered, vaguely, that mulberry trees have something to do with silkworms — that the leaves are what silkworms eat, not something people eat or drink. The second was a movie. There's an old Korean film from the 1980s literally titled "뽕," a mature drama that's fairly well known in Korean film history. So when I heard "bbongnip-cha," my brain went: silkworm food... and a movie title. Not exactly "refreshing health tea" territory. So naturally, my first reaction was: who actually drinks this? Turns out — quite a lot of people, and for good reason. What Is Bbongnip-cha? Bbongnip-cha is a traditional Korean tea made fro...

  There's a specific kind of memory that comes wrapped in a smell. For me, that smell is cinnamon. When I was little, my family would bring out gyepi-cha (계피차) every winter, and I would scrunch up my nose the second the steam hit me. It smelled sharp, spicy, almost medicinal. I couldn't understand why the adults loved it so much. I'd take one polite sip and quietly push the cup away. Fast forward a few decades, and here I am, actively seeking out cinnamon tea. Not because I suddenly love the smell more. It's because somewhere along the way, I started hearing about all the reasons it's good for you 🌿 — and now that same "too strong" aroma smells like warmth, comfort, and something my body actually wants. Funny how getting older changes your nose as much as it changes your habits. If you've had a similar experience with a food or drink you avoided as a kid, you'll understand exactly what I mean. Today I want to introduce gyepi-cha properly: wh...

  A Root I Knew Long Before I Knew It as Tea Growing up, I never once thought of ueong as something you'd drink. To me, it was simply what my mother sliced thin and simmered into ueong-jorim, or tucked into gimbap alongside pickled radish and spinach. That deep brown, slightly sweet side dish was just part of the table — I had no idea the same root, dried and roasted, could become a tea. It wasn't until much later that I learned this quiet, everyday ingredient had a whole other life in Korean tea culture. What Is Ueong-cha? Ueong-cha is a caffeine-free tea made from roasted, sliced burdock root — the very same root used in banchan and gimbap. Unlike bold, medicinal-tasting herbal teas, this one is subtle by design. Korean tradition treats it less like a quick fix and more like a slow, steady daily habit — something you drink consistently rather than reach for only when something feels off. What Does Ueong-cha Taste Like? Ueong-cha has a mild, earthy flavor with light nutt...

The Bitter Cup I Couldn't Finish As a child, chik-cha was one tea I dreaded. I remember the taste clearly — sharp, bitter, almost impossible to get through a full cup of. What I remember just as clearly is my grandmother heading up into the mountains to dig the roots herself. She'd come back with these thick, tangled roots caked in dirt, and somehow, from that, she'd make the tea I could barely stomach as a kid. It's strange how a taste I once tried to avoid is exactly what I find myself thinking about now. What Is Chik-cha? Chik-cha is a traditional Korean tea made from the root of the kudzu vine, called chik in Korean. Kudzu root has quietly sat at the heart of Korean wellness culture for over a thousand years, even though most people outside Korea have never heard of it. In Korean traditional medicine, or hanbang, kudzu root has been valued for its cooling properties, and it is documented in Joseon-era texts as a remedy for fevers, headaches, and heat-related conditi...

  The Song My Mother Hummed While Making It There's an old Korean folk song called Doraji Taryeong — right after Arirang, it's one of the most well-known folk songs in Korea. The lyrics follow someone climbing deep into the mountains just to dig up a handful of wild bellflower roots. Growing up, I remember my mother humming that same tune whenever she made doraji tea, usually right after someone in the house caught a cold. "Old doraji is better than ginseng," she'd say, repeating a saying passed down from her own mother. I didn't think much of it back then, but that bitter little root has stayed with me ever since. What Is Doraji-cha? Doraji-cha is a traditional Korean tea made from the root of the balloon flower, known in Korean as doraji. The same plant that bursts into beautiful purple (or sometimes white) blossoms every spring hides a thick, fibrous root underground — one that's been used in Korean kitchens and home remedies for generations. The root...

  The Peel My Grandmother Never Threw Away Every winter, my grandmother saved every single tangerine peel she peeled. She'd lay the pieces out on newspaper by the window until they dried hard and curled at the edges. "Don't throw these away," she'd tell me, "they're better than the fruit itself." I didn't understand it as a child — to me, the peel was just something you tossed in the bin. But that dried peel became jinpi-cha, one of the simplest and oldest home remedies in Korean households. What Is Jinpi-cha? Jinpi-cha is a traditional Korean tea made from dried tangerine or mandarin peel, called jinpi in Korean. Unlike most teas that rely on leaves or roots, jinpi-cha turns something most people consider kitchen waste into a warming, fragrant drink. The peel is simply washed, dried thoroughly, and stored until needed — no special equipment or ingredients required. What Does Jinpi-cha Taste Like? Jinpi-cha has a warm, citrusy aroma with a fl...

 Gotgam: Korea's Sweet Dried Persimmon That Pairs Perfectly with Gamnip-cha 🍂 Autumn in Korea has a distinct scent. Walk through any countryside village in late October, and you will see strings of bright orange persimmons hanging neatly under the eaves of traditional houses, slowly transforming into something even sweeter than the fresh fruit itself. This is Gotgam —traditional Korean dried persimmon—and it remains one of Korea's most quietly beautiful culinary traditions. What is Gotgam? Gotgam (곶감) is crafted by peeling ripe persimmons and hanging them in the cool autumn breeze to air-dry for several weeks. As the moisture gradually evaporates,  natural fruit sugars concentrate on the surface, creating a delicate, powdery sweetness. The final result is a soft, wonderfully chewy snack with a deep, caramel-like flavor profile—completely free of added sugars 🍬. This centuries-old process takes immense patience. Traditionally, families would hang rows of persimmons and chec...

  A Tea Born From Not Wasting Anything Every autumn, Korean households harvested persimmons for eating fresh, drying them into gotgam (dried persimmons), and making jam. But what about the leaves? Today, many people simply throw them away. Korean grandmothers never did.  I never watched this happen myself, but my mother once mentioned it in passing — persimmon leaves, dried flat on a rooftop, turned into tea that lasted the whole winter. It's the kind of small, practical habit that doesn't get written down anywhere, just passed on in conversation. That tea is called gamnip-cha, also known as Korean persimmon leaf tea. Like mogwa-pyeon , which was made from leftover quince pulp, gamnip-cha reflects the Korean tradition of making the most of every part of nature—wasting as little as possible. What Is Gamnip-cha? Gamnip-cha (Korean persimmon leaf tea) is a traditional Korean tea made from young persimmon leaves harvested in late spring or early summer. Unlike fruit teas such as...

  A Fruit With Two Lives By the time you've made mogwa-cheong  for your tea, you're usually left with something behind — the pulp, the fibers, the parts that don't dissolve into syrup. Most people would throw it away. Korean grandmothers never did. 🍐 That leftover pulp becomes mogwa-pyeon , a soft, jelly-like Korean quince dessert that turns "waste" into one of Korea's most delicate traditional sweets. What Is Mogwa-pyeon? Pyeon is a category of traditional Korean desserts made by boiling fruit or grain starch down into a thick paste, then setting it into a firm, jelly-like block. Mogwa-pyeon , or Korean quince jelly, uses the pulp and juice of the quince fruit, simmered slowly with sugar until it thickens, then poured into a mold and left to set into translucent, amber-colored squares. Unlike Western fruit jellies, mogwa-pyeon isn't overly sweet or artificially bright. It has an understated elegance — the kind of traditional Korean dessert that look...

The first time I noticed mogwa, I didn't taste it. I smelled it. Every autumn, my grandmother would choose one perfect mogwa fruit from the market — always the bumpiest, most lopsided one, because she swore those were the most fragrant. She'd slice it thin, layer it with sugar, and let it sit for weeks until it turned into a jar of glistening, amber syrup. That jar would sit quietly in the kitchen for months, waiting. It was my mother who knew exactly when to use it. The moment one of us started coughing, she'd go straight for grandmother's jar, spoon some of that syrup into a mug, and pour hot water over it. She'd hand it over without saying much — just a steaming cup and a look that said Drink this, you'll feel better. Somehow, it always felt like comfort before the tea even touched my lips. 🍯 Two generations, one jar: my grandmother made it, my mother knew when it was needed. Only years later did I learn that fruit was mogwa — and that its scent and its syru...

The Snack a King Couldn't Resist Long before "clean eating" became a modern trend, Korean royal kitchens were already living it. Jeonggwa dates back to the Goryeo Dynasty, when royal cooks transformed fruits, roots, and seeds into glistening, chewy confections by slowly simmering them in honey or sugar syrup. It wasn't an everyday treat — it was reserved for royal celebrations, ancestral rites, and special seasonal occasions, which made it feel all the more precious. Today, one of the most beloved versions of this centuries-old confection is made from yuja — the same fragrant citron used in yuja-cha. What Is Yuja Jeonggwa? Jeonggwa is a chewy, translucent Korean confection made by candying fruit, roots, or seeds in honey or sugar syrup. Yuja jeonggwa uses the peel of the yuja fruit — the same citron that flavors yuja-cha — sliced into thin strips and slowly simmered until it turns glossy, chewy, and deeply aromatic. If you've ever made yuja-cha at home, you al...

The Drink That Got Me Through Late-Night Study Sessions Back in middle and high school, I rarely drank yulmu-cha as a simple cup of tea. It was something else entirely — a survival tool. When I stayed up late studying and felt that familiar hunger creeping in, I didn't reach for rice or a snack. I made yulmu-cha thick and strong instead. One warm, creamy cup was enough to quiet my stomach without weighing me down. It felt light, comforting, and just filling enough to get me through another hour of studying. To this day, the smell of roasted yulmu still takes me straight back to those quiet, late-night desks. What Is Yulmu-cha? Yulmu-cha is made by roasting and grinding yulmu, a grain also known internationally as Job's tears. The roasted powder is often blended with ground nuts, most commonly walnuts, then mixed with hot water or warm milk. What makes this drink different from most Korean teas is its texture. Rather than a light, clear infusion, yulmu-cha comes out thick and cr...