Korea’s Christmas traditions don’t carry the historical weight they do in the West. Missionaries brought the holiday over in the late 19th century, and even installed a Christmas tree in the palace at the queen’s request. Whether any drinks were involved in that first celebration, I couldn’t tell you. We cover the actual history of Christmas in Korea on The Dark Side of Seoul Podcast.

The holiday’s taken on its own shape here, but one thing hasn’t changed: food and drink anchor any real celebration. Korea doesn’t have “Christmas drinks” in the traditional sense, but I’ve found a handful that feel like they belong at the holiday table anyway.

Here are the Korean drinks that bring some holiday warmth to winter.

Jump to Section

• Moju (모주): Korea’s Mulled Wine
• Ginger Ssanghwa-cha (쌍화차): Korea’s Ancient Power Tea
• Pine Needle Tea (Sulip-cha 술잎차): The Drink That Tastes Like a Christmas Tree
• Sujeonggwa (수정과): Korea’s Cinnamon Punch
• Citron Tea (Yuja-cha 유자차): Vitamin C in a Cup

Moju (모주): Korea’s Mulled Wine

Think of Moju as Korea’s answer to mulled wine, with its own personality. This Jeonju specialty happens when makgeolli meets a pot of cinnamon, ginger, jujubes, and ginseng, all simmered together for a full day. The result is warm, low on alcohol (around 1-2%), and high on comfort. Sweeter than mulled wine, earthier too, and a lot more mellow.

The Origins of Moju: A Mother’s Touch

The story goes that Moju, literally “mother’s wine,” was created in the 1600s by a queen consort’s mother. Exiled to Jeju Island, she found herself with leftover grains from makgeolli production and a need to survive. So she boiled the grains with herbs and spices into something hearty, restorative, and sellable.

The original name was “Daebi Moju,” Great Consort Mother’s Wine, later shortened to just Moju. When you invent the coziest drink in the country, apparently you don’t need a fancy title.

How It’s Made

Traditionally, Moju is made using:

• Makgeolli or leftover grains (술지게미)
• Cinnamon and ginger
• Jujubes (Korean dates) for sweetness
• Ginseng, kudzu root, and sometimes other medicinal herbs

The mixture simmers for a full 24 hours. That long boil cooks off most of the alcohol, leaving something warm and smooth, just a little sweet. The PG-rated cousin of makgeolli, one you can drink without worrying about the giggles.

Moju in Modern Korea

You’ll find Moju most famously in Jeonju, usually served alongside steaming bowls of Kongnamul Gukbap 콩나물국밥 (bean sprout soup). This pairing is legendary, Korea’s ultimate hangover cure. Picture waking up after a long night of soju, stumbling into a Jeonju soup shop, and being handed a warm cup of Moju to fix everything.

Fun Fact: In Jeonju, Moju is considered a Haejang-sul 해장술 (hangover liquor), but the low alcohol content and medicinal edge make it feel more like a health tonic than a drink.

Even without a hangover to cure, Moju is just plain comforting. It tastes like a warm cinnamon hug mixed with the creaminess of makgeolli. Some places even serve it cold in summer with ice, surprisingly good.

Make It at Home (or Cheat the Process)

Traditional Moju takes hours, but modern Koreans have shortened the recipe:

1. Grab a bottle of makgeolli
2. Add cinnamon sticks, fresh ginger, jujubes, and a bit of sugar
3. Simmer for about 40 minutes and you’ve got homemade Moju without the 24-hour wait

For the full Jeonju experience, sip it hot with bean sprout soup, a side of kimchi, and a real appetite.

Moju doesn’t have the international name recognition of mulled wine or eggnog, but it should. Soothing, nostalgic, and it tastes the way winter’s supposed to feel, warm, earthy, a little indulgent. If you’re in Jeonju, don’t leave without a cup.

Ginger Ssanghwa-cha (쌍화차): Korea’s Ancient Power Tea

There’s no real English equivalent for Ssanghwa-cha. It’s not just tea, it’s an event. A boiling pot of over twenty medicinal herbs served in a heavy stone cup, bubbling like something out of an apothecary’s back room. Underneath the surface: pine nuts, walnuts, gingko nuts, sesame seeds, sometimes a poached egg. Yes, an egg. Trust me, it works.

What’s in This Brew?

At its core, Ssanghwa-cha blends:

• Baekjakyak 백작약 (white peony root)
• Sukjohwang 숙지황 (steamed rehmannia root)
• Danggui 당귀 (angelica root)
• Cheongung 천궁 (cnidium)
• Gaepi 계피 (cinnamon)
• Gamcho 감초 (licorice branch)

This isn’t a cozy bedtime chamomile. It’s bold, complex, herbaceous. Sweetened with honey or sugar, it balances bitter roots against a gentle earthy sweetness that feels like it could pull you back from a rough night out.

The Story Behind Ssanghwa-cha

Ssanghwa-cha goes back to the Joseon era, used as a restorative tonic for scholars, workers, and royals alike. The name means “twin harmony tea,” a nod to its balance of flavors and health benefits. It was meant to restore energy, boost immunity, and fight fatigue, an old-school Korean Gatorade with better manners.

My girlfriend and I stumbled onto the perfect Ssanghwa-cha experience in Jeongeup, North Jeolla Province. The town’s famed Ssanghwa-cha Street felt like a scene lifted from an old Korean drama, tiny teahouses serving this ancient elixir in stone bowls, steam curling into the winter air.

Fun Fact: Ssanghwa-cha was often drunk as a morning tonic to cure exhaustion. Modern Koreans still swear by it for fighting colds and recharging in winter.

The Ultimate Winter Tea

If you’re tired of peppermint mochas and cinnamon lattes, Ssanghwa-cha is the winter drink you didn’t know you needed. Bold, restorative, steeped in tradition, literally. It doesn’t just taste like Christmas, it tastes like centuries of history poured into a steaming cup.

Pine Needle Tea (Sulip-cha 술잎차): The Drink That Tastes Like a Christmas Tree

There’s something distinctly Christmas about Sulip-cha, Korea’s pine needle tea. If I see it on a teahouse menu, I order it immediately, because it tastes like drinking a Christmas tree. Earthy, woodsy, a faint whisper of citrus. Invigorating and comforting at once, like sitting by a fire after a walk through a pine forest.

Sulip-cha is made by steeping young pine needles, usually from Korean red or black pines, in hot water. What comes out is sharp and resinous with a mellow, slightly bitter edge. It sounds niche, maybe a little too outdoorsy, but it has real roots in traditional Korean medicine and rural life.

The History and Health Benefits

Korean ancestors valued pine needles for their ability to:

• Boost the immune system
• Improve blood circulation
• Prevent hypertension and diabetes
• Detoxify the body
• Enhance vision

Rich in Vitamin C, antioxidants, and flavonoids, sulip-cha was especially popular in winter to ward off colds. Rural communities relying on the surrounding pine forests drank it out of necessity as much as taste.

One catch: you can’t just forage random pine needles and steep them. Many pine trees today are treated with pesticides, and harvesting the wrong needles can be genuinely dangerous. If you want a cup, buy commercially sourced, food-safe pine needle tea.

How to Prepare Sulip-cha

Preparing Sulip-cha is simple:

1. Ingredients: fresh or dried pine needles (food-safe, confirmed)
2. Method: rinse the needles thoroughly. Boil water, then steep for 5-10 minutes until it turns a gentle golden green.
3. Optional: a drizzle of honey to balance the bitterness

Steep longer for a stronger, more resinous tea, or lighter for something more subtle and herbal.

Sujeonggwa (수정과): Korea’s Cinnamon Punch

If Christmas had a flavor, Korea bottled it centuries ago. Sujeonggwa is what you drink after a garlic-heavy Korean feast, cleansing your breath and your palate, but really, it just tastes like the holidays.

Often called cinnamon punch, sujeonggwa is one of Korea’s most recognizable traditional drinks. A blend of cinnamon, ginger, and sugar, simmered for hours until the flavors settle in. It’s served chilled, garnished with dried persimmons (gotgam) and floating pine nuts. One sip and you’re back at a festive Korean table, jeon sizzling somewhere nearby.

A Brief History

The earliest record of sujeonggwa comes from the 18th century, during King Yeongjo’s reign (1765), appearing in the royal Sujag Uigwe, an official record of banquets and ceremonies. The name roughly translates to “water-based refined dessert,” which undersells how bold the flavor actually is. Historically, it was a luxury drink, cinnamon and ginger had to be imported, and sugar itself was a delicacy. A bowl of sujeonggwa on a nobleman’s table was as indulgent as caviar is today.

By the late Joseon period, sujeonggwa had become a fixture of New Year’s feasts and major celebrations. Dried persimmons were added to balance the spice with natural fruity sweetness.

Making Sujeonggwa

It takes time, but it’s worth it. Here’s how it comes together:

1. Ingredients:
   • Cinnamon sticks (around 10 pieces)
   • Fresh ginger, sliced, about 1 cup
   • Sugar or honey to taste
   • Dried persimmons (gotgam), 2-3 for garnish
   • Pine nuts, a handful for the finish
2. Method:
   • Boil cinnamon sticks and ginger in water for 1-2 hours
   • Strain the liquid, discard the solids
   • Stir in sugar or honey until dissolved, then chill
   • Drop in a dried persimmon and a few pine nuts before serving
3. Optional: serve in a rustic ceramic cup for the full teahouse feel

What you get is a dark, amber punch that looks like liquid gold. Cinnamon hits first, ginger’s warmth follows, and persimmon sweetness lingers at the end. The pine nuts add crunch and a bit of visual polish.

The Cultural Experience

Sujeonggwa traditionally appears after feasts, especially during Seollal (Lunar New Year), aiding digestion and cleansing the palate after heavy meals. Koreans have long believed it also warms the body and wards off colds, which explains why it shows up so much in winter.

It’s nostalgia in a cup, too. Family gatherings, grandparents spooning it into tiny cups, persimmons gone soft in cinnamon syrup.

Modern Takes

Cafes now serve sujeonggwa as a spiced holiday drink, hot or cold. Some cooks work it into desserts, cakes, panna cotta, even bingsu, chasing that unmistakable cinnamon-persimmon flavor.

If you’ve never had it, think of it as Korea’s version of spiced tea, with its own distinct personality. Pour a glass this winter and let it do its thing.

Sujeonggwa belongs on your Christmas table. Korea’s gift to the season, and it’s a shame not to share it.

Citron Tea (Yuja-cha 유자차): Vitamin C in a Cup

If you’re feeling run down in the cold months, yuja-cha is a warm hug in a cup. Think orange marmalade stirred into tea, citrusy and soothing, with a real punch of Vitamin C. Hot on a frosty day, chilled as a pick-me-up, yuja-cha is a Korean winter staple that manages to feel both comforting and a little luxurious.

A Sweet and Tangy Tradition

Yuja-cha has been around for centuries, made by mixing yuja-cheong, a thick, honey-sweetened citron syrup, with warm water. Yuja, the Korean citron, is a bumpy, lemon-like fruit grown throughout Korea’s southern regions, especially Goheung and Geoje. It’s sweet-tart and intense, somewhere between lemon, grapefruit, and sunshine.

Beyond taste, yuja-cha is valued for real reasons: rich in Vitamin C, it’s a go-to remedy for sore throats, colds, and winter fatigue. Giving someone a jar of yuja-cheong is one of Korea’s classic small gestures of care, a quiet way of saying take care of yourself.

Making Yuja-cha: Sweet Simplicity

You only need two ingredients: yuja and a sweetener. Traditionally, the fruit is sliced thin, rind, pulp, and all, then preserved in sugar or honey until it turns into a thick, syrupy marmalade. Realistically, you can just buy the jarred version at any Korean or Asian market.

To make the tea:

1. Scoop a spoonful (or two) of yuja-cheong into a cup
2. Add warm water, not boiling, to protect the Vitamin C
3. Stir and drink

Mix the syrup with sparkling water instead for a cold yuja-ade, bright and bubbly.

A Winter Staple With a Bit of Luxury

Making yuja-cheong is genuinely labor-intensive, the fruit has thick rind, bittersweet flesh, and a lot of seeds. But once it’s turned into syrup, it lasts all season and works well beyond tea, spread on toast, drizzled over yogurt, baked into cakes and cookies.

The Gift of Yuja

Gifting yuja-cheong is a loving gesture in Korea, the thing your mom hands you the moment she hears you cough. Historically, yuja was reserved for the elite due to its rarity, treasured as both delicacy and medicine.

Its reputation for curing colds has held up across generations. It won’t replace an actual doctor, but it’s a far better remedy than cough syrup.

Modern Twists and Global Fame

Yuja-cha has spread well beyond Korea. Cafes worldwide now serve it as citron tea or Korean honey citrus tea. If you’ve wandered into a Korean grocery store, you’ve probably seen jars of yuja-cheong stacked up like golden treasure.

In Japan and China, the same fruit is called yuzu and used similarly, but Korea’s version stands apart, chunkier, sweeter-tart, and tied deeply to winter tradition.

We play around with jarred yuja-cheong at ZenKimchi. Mixed with soju, it’s great. It also pairs surprisingly well with poultry and, weirdly, French toast.

Cozy Up With Yuja-cha

If you’re cold, tired, or just need some citrus in your life, make a cup of yuja-cha. Sweet, tangy, nostalgic, exactly what a gloomy winter day calls for.

Feeling fancier? Try a yuja spritzer with sparkling water, or a splash of soju stirred in. Yuja and booze get along better than you’d think.

Bring Korean Drinks to Your Holiday Table

From the spiced warmth of Moju to the tang of Yuja-cha, these drinks fit right into a winter table. No Santa’s seal of approval needed, they bring their own kind of holiday warmth.

Whether you’re looking to pair something new with a holiday meal or just want a fresh twist on tradition, pour a warm cup and toast to the season.

Happy sooltide.