When a fruit is also a tonic

In spring, the trees would put out hundreds of tiny cream-colored flowers, insignificant and hard to spot among the lush new foliage. But in the still air of evening, they perfumed the courtyard, with a peculiar scent that would hint sweet fruit in a couple of months.

The spouse remembers the trees were too tall for the children to reach and when the fruits ripened, they had to wait for wind or rain to knock the jujubes down. Sometimes, an obliging adult would help.

The fresh fruits were crisp and sweet, and juicy enough. The harvested fruits always went back to grandma, who would portion out little bowls to each grandchild. The rest would be carefully dried in the sun and saved for cooking later.

The best jujubes in China are from Xinjiang in the northwest. The fruit here grow as large as eggs, compared to the thimble-sized jujubes from the rest of the country. Thanks to advanced logistics, these delicious jujubes are now available everywhere, and they are also exported to certain countries.