The syrups of summer

Cheong (chi-yong) is a Korean way of preserving fruits and vegetables by making a sweet, flavorful syrup that you suddenly find indispensable. In ancient times, various types of cheong were used medicinally and as honey substitutes. Like honey, the flavor and consistency of cheong varies based on the fruit, berry, flower, stem or root it draws from. 

This process, in which liquid is used to extract molecules from a substrate, is called maceration. In this case, the liquid comes from the fruit itself, which is cut and mixed with sugar to extract water via osmosis. In turn, the water can extract more goodness from the fruit. The resulting syrup is a glorious, sweet and floral nectar.

With cheong, you can stash the long days of summer into bottles to be consumed at your earliest convenience, while never again having to stress about a surplus of ripe, seasonal fruit being dropped at your doorstep by a well-meaning neighbor.

My current array of cheong in progress includes blueberry, cherry, mango, ginger, raspberry (frozen from last year’s garden), strawberry rhubarb and rhubarb rose. Each one of these elixirs is intensely floral and fruity in its own way, with a unique complexity and viscosity. 

My favorite syrup is rose rhubarb. It’s completely intoxicating, making my feeble brain even less able to comprehend how so much flavor can exist in such a small volume. The tiniest drop on the tongue makes the eyes blast wide open.

In the heat of summer, these syrups make dazzling sodas when mixed with bubbly. I like to add mango syrup to my mango smoothies to enhance their mango-ness. Sometimes, I’ll use different flavors of syrup to create contrast. The combination of mango, ginger and strawberry rhubarb is exquisite.

Most ripe fruit takes about a week, but you can start pouring little nips from the jar as soon as the sugar starts pulling pourable fluid from the fruit. There will be bubbles, and a mild fermentation gives the eventual flavor a kombucha-like edge.

And don’t forget to add your booze of choice to your sweet and fruity cheong. A raspberry margarita makes for a glorious afternoon refreshment. Combine lemon cheong and Tanqueray, and let the fun be gin. Substitute strawberry rhubarb for cranberry juice to update the vodka cran. And then there’s rum, which pairs with all things fruity and needs no plan.

One thing I’ve learned about cheong: It rhymes with “can’t go wrong.”

Cheong

This recipe comes down to mixing equal parts sugar and fruit by weight. If you still don’t have a kitchen scale, let this be the reason.

Ingredients:

• Fruit
• Sugar

Choose your plant-material substrate. I often refer to it as “fruit,” but it could be ginger root, rhubarb stem, rose bud, onion bulb or many other plant parts.

You’ll also need ungodly amounts of sugar. White sugar will make a lighter and brighter syrup. Cheong made with darker sugars is said to have more flavor.

Wash the fruit and cut it into small slices or pieces. Blueberries, raspberries and cherries can be crushed. Mangoes should be peeled and cubed. Strawberries and rhubarb should be sliced, ginger should be grated, and roses can be left whole. Mix the fruit with the sugar before adding it to the jar.

Some cheong makers stir it daily, while others let it do its thing for a week and then give it a stir. It’s a personal choice. Leave the lid loose so gas can escape.

After a week, give your cheong its first or seventh stir. Some choose to strain it and refrigerate the clear syrup. You can make jam with what you strain out. You can also leave the fruit in the syrup, doling it out as a summery topping for your granola all winter.