Some things come as a pair. Beans on toast. Fish and chips. A cuppa and the biscuit you swore you weren't having. Over in a Chinese kitchen? Goji and red dates.
Where one goes, the other usually tags along. Open the cupboard in plenty of Chinese homes and the two bags are sat side by side, usually held shut with a clothes peg, and when one comes out the other tends to follow it.
So this one's about the pair. Why they work, how I make the tea, a flask version for cold mornings, and the two other places they end up most weeks in our house.
Why these two?
Sweet and tangy, basically. That's the whole trick.
Red dates (jujube, or hong zao if you're shopping in Chinese) are the sweet half. Ours come from Xinjiang, a hot, dry desert region right out in the far north west of China. Proper desert. Dried, they've got a crisp, crinkly skin, and once they've had some hot water on them the flesh goes soft and sticky. Toffee-ish, but quiet about it.
Goji's the other half. Sweet as well, but with a bit of tang behind it, sharper round the edges.
Put them in the same cup and the dates round everything off while the goji stop it going sickly. On their own in hot water? Neither one's that exciting, if I'm honest. Together it tastes finished, like somebody thought about it.
If you've seen our ASMR video, you'll know there's something oddly lovely about watching it happen. Sound on. The dates go in with a little knock against the cup, then the water, then the goji, which float about for a while, bob, and slowly sink as they drink the water in. I could watch it all afternoon, which probably says more about me than the tea.
Tear, deseed, drop them in
That's how we do the dates at home, every time, whatever they're going into.
Tear. Pull the date open with your fingers, or score down the side with a small knife if your nails aren't up to it. The skin's tough, and if you leave them whole the water barely gets a look in.
Deseed. There's a stone in the middle and it's a properly hard one. Pop it out while the date's open. Skip this bit and somebody's going to find it with a back tooth halfway down their cup, and nobody needs a trip to the dentist out of a cup of tea.
Drop them in. Cup, pan, soup pot, flask. Done.
Way one: the tea
Rough handfuls. No scales. I'm not weighing dried fruit at seven in the morning and I doubt you are either.
For one big mug I go three or four dates, torn and deseeded, and a pinch of goji, ten berries or so. A teapot or a small pan for two? A small handful of dates, six-ish, and a small handful of goji. If you want a rule, it's more dates than goji by eye, roughly two to one. More dates if you want it sweeter. More goji for tang.
There are two ways to brew it, and they're not the same drink.
The mug way is hot water straight over the dates and leave it five minutes, then the goji go in for another five. Pale gold, light, sweet. The pan way is dates and water in together, up to a gentle simmer with the lid on for fifteen minutes or so, goji in for the last five. That one's darker and sweeter, because the dates have had longer to give up what they've got.
Why do the goji go in late? Leave them in too long and they turn soft and a bit sad, and that bright red fades. The dates are the opposite. They need the time.
Eat everything at the end. By then the dates are soft and sticky and the goji have gone plump and juicy. Best part, honestly. No caffeine in any of it either, so it's a fine one for the evening.
The flask version
This is the one I'd make this time of year. Bonfire night's on Thursday!
Touchline at the kids' football on a Sunday, a dog walk in the drizzle, sat in a cold car park waiting for someone's train. A flask of this beats a vending machine hot chocolate every time.
Make it the pan way, but a bit stronger, because it keeps steeping in there. A good handful of dates and a small handful of goji for a flask's worth of water. Dates simmer first, fifteen minutes, then everything goes in, goji included. No need to strain.
Oh, and give the flask a splash of boiling water first. Swirl, tip out. Otherwise the cold metal knocks the heat straight out of your tea. And use a wide neck flask if you've got one, or you'll be fishing dates out with a chopstick at the end (I've done this, it's not my finest moment).
By the bottom it's sweeter and deeper than when you poured the first cup. The goji go soft by then. Doesn't matter, you're eating them anyway.
Way two: in congee
Congee is rice cooked slowly in lots of water until it breaks down soft and creamy, somewhere between porridge and a very loose risotto. Eaten all over China, very often for breakfast. We've already got a full congee post on the blog so I won't do the whole recipe here. Just where the pair goes.
Dates in at the start with the rice, torn and deseeded. By the time the rice has collapsed they've half melted into it and the whole pot's gone gently sweet. Goji for the last five minutes, stirred through, so they keep their colour.
I like it plain like that. Sweet tooth? Bit of brown sugar on top then. It ends up a lot like porridge with raisins in, only softer.
Way three: in a soup
This is the one people pull a face at. Sweet fruit, in soup?
Yes! In a lot of Chinese homes a pot of chicken or pork soup isn't right without a few red dates in it. They don't make it taste like pudding. They round the broth off and take the edge off the salt.
Same order as always. Dates early, with the meat and the water, and they simmer the whole way through. Goji for the last ten minutes or so. Three or four dates for a family pot is plenty, because go much past that and the soup turns noticeably sweet, which isn't the end of the world but isn't what you're after either. Then a small handful of goji.
The simplest version I make is chicken thighs, a few slices of ginger, the dates, water and a pinch of salt, simmered low for an hour or so, goji right at the end. It fills the kitchen with a lovely smell on a grey Sunday.
A couple of sensible bits
The stones. I know I've said it, I'm saying it again. Take them out, or at the very least tell people they're in there. Kids especially.
If you're on regular medication, blood thinners in particular, have a word with your doctor or pharmacist before goji turns into an every day thing.
And both bags are non-sulphur treated, for what it's worth. It's just the fruit, dried.
Questions people ask me
How do you make goji berry tea?
Pinch of berries, mug, kettle. Give it five minutes and then drink it, berries and all. On its own it's a bit thin though, so I'd chuck some dates in first and add the goji after.
How do you make red date tea?
Rip three or four open, flick the stones out, kettle water on top. Five minutes. If I've got time I'll do it in a pan for a quarter of an hour instead, it comes out a lot darker.
Can you drink goji and jujube tea every day?
Most winter evenings there's a mug of it next to me, and it won't keep you up, no caffeine. One thing though. Goji and some tablets, blood thinners in particular, can be a bad mix, so check with the pharmacist first.
Do you eat the goji berries after making tea?
Course! Fishing them out with a spoon is half the fun. The dates go all sticky, like toffee that's given up.
Is goji berry tea good for you?
Not my place to say. It's dried fruit and water, I like the taste, end of. Ask your GP about anything health wise.
Kettle on, then
First cold evening this week, rip open a few dates, chuck them in a mug with some goji, and just watch it for a minute. Sound on, if you like.
We sell dried goji berries and dried red dates at Vita Herbal Nutrition, in small bags and big ones.