Rosehip Cheong | Experimental Fermentation | Zero Waste Jam #10
Seasonal Banquets from Tudors to Saxons, with a Korean Spin
Celebrating my 10th free newsletter in style with rosehips, two incredible ways to use them, and an experiment that ended up tasting of pineapple. We’ll delve into the importance of the humble rosehip from a nutritional, historical, and medicinal perspective, as well as how to prepare them for intense deliciousness.
A quick note before we jump in, there is a recent crossover between rose flowers and rosehips throughout the season, and each of the following recipes can also include a handful of floral petals too. This will introduce more of a rosewater or turkish delight fragrance to the finished products.
Cook’s Almanac: Rosehip
Sweet, tangy, and fruity, sometimes with butterscotch notes
September-December
Roses are a staple at the farm. With many a soft boundary, corner, fence, and an entire walkway rising along the edge of an orchard, all flush with roses. Here in Wales, sheltered beside the sea, roses seem to be alive and well all year round. Flowering from early spring right the way through to late autumn, and producing hips until the new year. During the short period when they aren’t producing fruit or flowers, their leaves can be picked and oxidised in a similar manner to my lemon verbena tea recipe (which you can read about here).
As I write this, a stock pot of tomatoes gently bubbles away on the stove, reducing enough to fit in the limited number of jars I have left from the jams, jellies, chutneys, ferments, dried goods, and sauces from the height of summer. There are also leftover rosehips from a previous recipe slowly dripping through a straining bag into a bowl, hanging from one of the many S hooks and steel poles that are invaluable for the home preserver.
Rosehips have a long history of use in Britain, both as a food and medicine. In the second world war, Britain faced a shortage of imported fruits, leaving the population in need of another source naturally rich in vitamin C. The Ministry of Food distributed recipes for making rosehip syrup (which the first of my recipes is in ode to), a thick, sweet liquid made by boiling and straining the hips. This syrup was given to children and elderly people to supplement their diets and help prevent scurvy.
Going back further, rosehips were a popular sweet treat amongst banquets held by the Tudors, whose favoured ways of eating them were as jams and jellies, eaten alongside other sweet fruits and spices (see my additional recipe below).
In the Anglo-Saxon text, Lucnunga (Old English for ‘Remedies’), a collection of herbalist medical texts, rosehips were valued for their ability to heal wounds, with infusions and pastes applied to cuts and sores. The fruit’s natural antioxidants and vitamin C content contributed to its reputation as a healer.
In more recent years, homesteaders and cottage dwellers celebrate rosehips by infusing them in gin and whiskey, or homemade vinegars, where their dry, fruity flavour and warm amber pigmentation are used equal parts as a food and tincture.
As a big believer in supplementary sufficiency, building on our knowledge of these ingredients and their importance within our history and culture is key to living a healthy and fulfilling life. The challenge lies in adapting such things to our modern diets and way of life. Do I think we should replace all vitamin C intake from imported fruits with rosehip and the various preserves that can be made from it? No. For most of us this isn’t possible. But supplementing our daily lives with these annual offerings is a low cost, seasonal, accessible, and natural way to boost our health and reconnect with elements of our culture and seasons that have been lost in recent years. This approach to food isn’t as radical as some food solutions, it's about having the skills and knowledge to make the right choices, gradually and regularly, and improve our lives in a restorative way.
In this sense, I also make more than I need and gift those in my life who don’t have the time or knowhow. As someone in my position, I consider it my responsibility to provide, give back, and nurture a sense of common unity through such acts.
A Note on Foraging
Whilst all varieties of rosehip are edible, not all are tasty. For the following recipes, I’ve used hips from Rosa rugosa. In previous years I’ve foraged dog rose, a wild rose, and other ornamental types growing at the farm. But there are also varieties like Tottering By Gently that produce large hips but the flowers themselves have little fragrance or flavour.
You should also keep in mind where you pick foraged foods. I avoid foods that grow by roadsides because of pollution, or in urban areas because town councils love nothing more than spraying everything with pesticides. In the countryside, I also avoid anything within range of a dog’s cocked leg. You’ve been warned.
Not all parts of a rose plant are edible either. Whilst the petals, hips (fruit), and leaves (when processed) are edible, the seeds aren’t. And when I was at school, kids used to love putting rose seeds down one another's shirts as an itchy prank.
So, using rosehip as our delicious vehicle into a world of flavour, here are three recipes and one experimental ferment for you to try out this autumn. As demonstrated nicely by the vast and wildly diverse flavours and fragrances of coffee, shaped by their growth, cultivation, processing, and brew, each of the processes in the following recipes provide a wide range of flavours, from dry and clean, to fruity and pineapple. Take note of the variety of rose you pick and enjoy subjecting it to any and all of the following recipes and experience this for yourself.
Upcoming News and One Lucky Member
It’s important to me to share as much as possible for free, to help improve the food and lives of as many people as I can. That’s why 95%+ of my content is free, besides the books I write. Those who are able and willing to support my work with paid or founding membership make this possible for everyone else, and support my work with Huw at the farm and the various regenerative, permaculture projects we take part in. I thought I’d share my appreciation with this message, and let you know that in my 2025 newsletters, I’ll be posting additional research and recipes I’m developing for a future book. Because of the nature of my contract with the publishing company, these will have to be behind a paywall.
If you’re interested and able to support my work, I highly recommend joining my paid members. When we hit 100 paid members, I’m going to randomly select one lucky person from that group to recieve a 2025 subscription completely free. So join now if you want to be in with a chance of winning. With the increase in funding, I also hope to reach out to others within the world of food, farming, fermenting and so on, to bring you truly unique skills and stories from all walks of life. So thank you for joining me, and help me spread the word.
Rosehip Cheong
You might be wondering what the hell is a cheong? Cheong, said CHI-ONG (ish) is a type of raw Korean cordial infusion made from sugar and fruit. The first time I made it was by accident, as I was attempting to make a fermented raw cordial using the technique from Mugolio, a fermented pine syrup from the Dolomite mountains of Northern Italy. Having enjoyed the success of which, I decided to share the recipe online, only to have the usual small but loud minority scream at me that I was making cheong and not giving credit to Korean people. Whatever you choose to call it, here is an amazing recipe for rosehip cheong, or fermented cordial, or ‘Hiplio’ if we were to reference the Italian name.
I first made this recipe in an attempt to recreate the Ministry of Food’s recipe for rosehip syrup but using techniques that better preserve the vitamins without denaturing them (with heat). And I’m pretty happy with the results!
Ingredients:
400g (14oz) rosehip
400g (14oz) sugar
Make sure the rosehips are clean, washed, and undamaged. When you first collect them, drop them into a bowl of cold water and leave them for half an hour or so, weighing them down to submerge them. This will force any nasty critters to reveal themselves and float to the surface.
Dry off the rosehips and remove the tops and bottoms with a sharp paring knife. This removes inedible parts of the plant and rotting rose petals, whilst also allowing the sugar in to draw more moisture out.
Weigh the rosehips and mix them with an equal amount of sugar. You can use any kind of sugar you like for this. I use raw cane to preserve the flavour and colour of the fruits, but you can use a darker sugar to your preference. I haven’t tried sugar alternatives, but feel free to experiment and see.
Tip the whole lot into a clean jar and secure it with a lid. Leave it somewhere cool (18°C / 64°F) for the next 2-3 weeks, giving the jar a shake each day to stop any rosehips floating above the surface for more than 24 hours at once.
Over the following week, the sugar will slowly dissolve as it draws juices from the fruits, eventually, drawing enough to start fermenting. At this stage, usually about a week in, you may wish to open the jar once a week to release pressure.
After 3 weeks have passed, filter the liquid from the solids and bottle it. This liquid is your cheong. Reserve any undissolved sugar and rosehips for a later recipe that uses the discard of this to make a jam.
And it’s that simple! Store in a fridge if you want to really preserve the flavour and colour, or continue to keep it somewhere cool on a shelf. It will last several months at room temperature, and longer than a year in a fridge.
Uses include, a syrup on pancakes, a cordial in drinks, mixer in cocktails, and sugar substitute in recipes, including kombucha and wine making, which I regularly do with large batches of cheong in order to lower the sugar and introduce additional flavour.
Rosehip and Raspberry Jam
Now, let’s make some jam from those leftover rosehips. Far from being spent after making cheong, these rosehips have a lot more left to give. But this time we need a bit of heat to draw out the goodness. Jam making can be a bit of a chore for a small amount like 400g of rosehips, so I’ve bulked out the recipe with the addition of figs, raspberries, and apples. The flavour of the rosehips still shines through nicely, and we end up with a more complex, rich jam, full of variety (the spice of life, so I’m told).
Ingredients:
350g (12oz) rosehips*
350g (12oz) raspberries
5 fat figs
3 apples (I used lord lambourne for their acidity and they cook down well).
350g (12oz) sugar
* These usually weigh a little less after making cheong because they’ve lost juices.
Note: You can use frozen fruit for this recipe, but make sure the apples are fresh as we need the pectin to help set it.
Wash the fresh fruit and remove any damaged parts, then half the figs and add them to a large saucepan over a medium heat with the raspberries and rosehips. After 5 minutes or so, if there isn’t enough liquid being released by the raspberries, add 100ml of water to stop the fruit catching the base of the pan.
If you like, you can also add aromatics like vanilla, spices (cinnamon), ginger root, or edible flowers like rose petals at this stage to infuse.
Cover with a lid and cook for 20-30 minutes, then use a blender or potato masher to crush the chunks of rosehip and figs.
Leave the ingredients to infuse for an hour, then pass the jam through a straining bag to remove the pulp and seeds. Leave it to drip overnight if you need to.
The following day, pop a metal spoon in the freezer for testing the jam set.
Add 350g of sugar per 600ml of juice, then peel and core the apples. Chop them up and add them in, then bring the whole lot back up to a simmer and continue cooking for 30 minutes. For this stage, use a much larger saucepan as the jam will bubble up to double it’s volume when hot.
Use a food processor to create a uniform jam if you’d like, or mash the apple pieces with a potato masher for something more textural, then insert a sugar thermometer. Keep the jam on the heat until it reaches 104°C (219.2°F), scooping off the foam that rises as it cooks, then test to see if it’s going to set using the spoon we chilled in the freezer. If it doesn’t set, cook for a further 5 minutes and try again.
When done, pour the jam into a clean jam jar and secure it with a lid. Flip the jar upside down whilst the piping hot jam cools, then store upright again afterwards. This uses the heat from the jam itself to seal the jar, as it should be acidic enough to resist spoiling without water bath canning.
Like this, the jam will last several months (up to a year) on a cool, dark shelf. Make sure to store in a fridge once opened and consume within 1 month.
Rosehip Vinegar Infusion
This one couldn’t be more simple and is a great way to draw nutrients, flavour, and aroma from fruits like rosehip to preserve all year round. It has the added benefit of improving less tasty vinegars too. You can also follow this exact process to make an alcohol infusion from rosehips, much in the fashion of sloe gin.
Ingredients:
1L (35oz) white/red/cider vinegar
400g (14oz) rosehips
Optional: 50g (1.7oz) rose petals
Equipment:
1.5L jar (which is apparently almost the same as 1.5 quarts, but I had to look that up online so correct me if I’m wrong)
As before, make sure the rosehips are clean, washed, and undamaged. When you first collect them, drop them into a bowl of cold water and leave them for half an hour or so, weighing them down to submerge them. This will force any nasty critters to reveal themselves and float to the surface.
Pat them dry and top and tail them, then tip them into the jar.
Add the vinegar, and rose petals (if you’re using them), and close the lid. Clean and store the vinegar bottle for later.
Pop the jar on a shelf somewhere at room temperature. This isn’t a ferment so the temperature doesn’t need to be specific.
Give the jar a little shake each day to mix everything up. This will help the ingredients floating at the surface from spoiling, and distribute the infusion.
After 3-4 weeks, filter the liquid and bottle the vinegar back in the bottle you kept from earlier. This infusion will last years at room temperature and can be used in dressings, as a tincture, in cooking, and reduced to a syrup.
Lacto Rosehip Experiment
Lastly, I wanted to share an experiment I ran over the last month, along with some surprising results and thoughts on how I might improve it next time. For this process I used a vacuum sealer as I was suspicious the rosehips wouldn’t produce enough liquid to preserve well in a jar. Compared to the cheong, where the sugar drew a huge amount of juice from the rosehips, the salt in this lacto ferment produced hardly nothing (and both sets of rosehips were from the same plant, harvested at the same time).
What surprised me most about this process was how different the aroma was from any other rosehip recipe in this newsletter. The overwhelming smell of pineapple and funky whiff of alcohol gave the rosehips a punchy but pleasant profile not too far off tepache.
With the lack of moisture produced and how little edible flesh there is on the fruits themselves, I think my next step will be to include them as a featured ingredient in some kind of hot sauce now (at last) our chillies are finally ripening. If there’s some way to express this pineapple flavour alongside a complimentary ingredient that will give a ferment more substance (literally), then I’m on to a winner. This will also make it doable in a jar, making the recipe possible for those without a sous vide machine.
I’m also tempted to use them as an ingredient to flavour a miso, removing the flesh of the fruit and grinding it into a fresh batch.
In case you wanted to recreate this unfinished process yourself, I prepared the rosehips in the same way as the previous recipes, then added 2% salt and stored them under vacuum at room temperature for a week. After this long, the bag was ready to pop but had produced less than a teaspoon of juice. I’ve resealed them again and continued fermenting, but activity has slowed down. So far, they taste fruity, tangy, alcoholic, and a little dry, with the previously mentioned powerful kick of pineapple.
I’ll continue to experiment with this process and share more in a later newsletter. If you have thoughts or suggestions you’d like to share, leave a comment and I’ll adapt what I think might work into this experiment.
And that wraps up this weeks newsletter. Thank you for joining me on this journey into rosehip through the ages and techniques. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have. If you’d be so kind, why not share or restack this newsletter and spread the knowledge, inspiration, and great flavour of this humble, free, and abundant ingredient.
I hope you have a great week,
Sam
You have just reminded me to try the rhubarb Cheong we made after following your reel!!! Thank you for sharing Sam.
Allie
Hiya, just wondering about different Cheong fermentation times? I know the traditional green plum version goes for a minimum of 6 months, but rosehip and rhubarb are much shorter. Why is that? I've got green plum, cherry, raspberry, blackberry and Rhubarb Cheongs going right now :)