The osmotic stress versus slow fermentation debate is fascinatng. Most guides dismiss cheong as purely extraction, but that gradual microbial activity you describe matches what I've seen in my own ferments. I made a quince version last fall and it definitly bubbled slowly even at high sugar levels, suggesting osmotolerant yeasts were at work. The way you connect sweetness as a modulator rather than just a taste is super useful too, cuz it reframes how to use cheong in savory contexts without making things taste dessert-like.
I’m so glad you found it useful. Considering small amounts of sweet ingredients for savoury dishes opens up a world of opportunities to get creative with pairings.
Can I ask you a question? This year I attempted to make green plum cheong and it got moldy. I didn’t put a lid on it, just cheesecloth, and some of the plums were not sunk under the sugar when it turned to syrup. Plus I had it on top of the counter where it got sunlight.
Are all those the reasons why it hot moldy? It was so sad 😞
A cheong needs to be alright or in an oxygen free environment or you risk surface mould. I feel your pain though, I’ve learned the hard way with some of these things
I'm glad you enjoy them! I try to strike a balance between making something with respect for the people and place it comes from, but I can't help but have fun with it in a kitchen as well.
Sounds gorgeous - like the marrow rum I used to make as a child. We'd scoop out the seeds, fill the cavity with brown sugar, replace the end and wait for it to disintegrate. Then we'd strain it, bottle it, and leave it for several months.
It was deliciously gloopy and perfect for winter evenings.
Sam, I've been absolutely loving your writing. You have a gift for combining fantastic writing with practical culinary advice placed within a historical and cultural context that I find rare.
I was in Southern California over the holidays visiting family and ended up foraging around 100 lbs of lemons. I've been lacto-fermenting the hell out of them and I'm excited to try turning some into cheong now!
This is so brilliant thank you! I saw cheong for sale the other day but bought enough other fermented goods from that shop. Super keen to try now that I have more details - I've made versions of this using elderberry and waterberry (but without really knowing exactly what's happening), now my persimmons may be shared between cheong and table, it looks like a great harvest coming up.
This was a really thoughtful piece on cheong. I loved how you framed it, and the photos were beautiful as always. This way of explaining cheong comes up often in discussions of Korean temple cuisine and traditional food culture. When certain ideas are repeated frequently by well known figures, they gradually become accepted as fact. Knowledge passed down orally over generations does not arrive with footnotes or scientific explanations. It arrives as truth through repetition.
This is how many Koreans learn food traditions. People are told, “That’s how it’s done,” or “That’s how it is,” and because the food tastes good and feels right, it is rarely questioned. Cheong is fermented. Kimchi is good for you. Kimchi tastes sour because it is supposed to. Kimchi belongs in the fridge. These ideas are absorbed as lived knowledge, not analysed knowledge.
Kimchi follows the same pattern. Many people in Korea know how to make it, but not always why it turns sour, why it benefits the body, or why temperature matters. The tradition works, so scientific explanation never felt urgent.
Seen in this context, cheong is best understood as a sugar preserved fruit , plants and grains extract. In its early stages, the high concentration of sugar prevents most microbes from growing, so extraction, not fermentation, does the work. Sugar draws water out of the fruit, allowing flavour compounds to dissolve into the syrup.
Over time, as more water is released, the syrup becomes more diluted and a small amount of very slow, limited fermentation can occur. This fermentation is real, but it is never the main event. Sugar remains the primary preservative.
In Korea, cheong is most often made with LOW water ingredients such as maesil (green plum), yuzu, or ginger. Because these release their juices slowly, the sugar concentration stays high, and cheong behaves more like a preserved extract than a fermented food. When much juicier fruits are used, as is often the case outside Korea, the same method can produce very different behaviour in the jar.
For this reason, cheong is not one fixed thing. How it develops depends on the fruit, plants, grains ,the sugar, and time.
A simple way to explain CHEONG in English is that it’s a clear, refined extract, and it isn’t limited to fruit. In Korea, cheong can be made from fruit, plants, or grains, which is why you’ll see versions like fruit cheong (maesil or yuzu), plant cheong (ginger), and grain cheong (jocheong). The word 청 , Cheong, describes the clarity and refined state of the liquid itself, not whether it’s fermented or how it was made. : )
Thank you for this. Fascinating information and, as others have said it's great to have some ideas for using the cheong too. Joyeux Noël to everyone from France!
Too late for persimmon season this year--happy Solstice, by the way!--I'll try it next year, maybe after practicing with some other fruit in the meantime.
Thank you for the persimmon cheong recipe....I'm on it! I love all suggestions you shared of ways to use it! Lacquered mushrooms love. I'm sure their are many health benefits too to this elixir. Happy Holidays to all!
The osmotic stress versus slow fermentation debate is fascinatng. Most guides dismiss cheong as purely extraction, but that gradual microbial activity you describe matches what I've seen in my own ferments. I made a quince version last fall and it definitly bubbled slowly even at high sugar levels, suggesting osmotolerant yeasts were at work. The way you connect sweetness as a modulator rather than just a taste is super useful too, cuz it reframes how to use cheong in savory contexts without making things taste dessert-like.
I’m so glad you found it useful. Considering small amounts of sweet ingredients for savoury dishes opens up a world of opportunities to get creative with pairings.
Can I ask you a question? This year I attempted to make green plum cheong and it got moldy. I didn’t put a lid on it, just cheesecloth, and some of the plums were not sunk under the sugar when it turned to syrup. Plus I had it on top of the counter where it got sunlight.
Are all those the reasons why it hot moldy? It was so sad 😞
A cheong needs to be alright or in an oxygen free environment or you risk surface mould. I feel your pain though, I’ve learned the hard way with some of these things
Ok. Will make sure its airtight next time. Learned a lesson. Thsnk you for your reply.
I love how you include specific suggestions to enjoy the cheong, always a joy reading through.
I'm glad you enjoy them! I try to strike a balance between making something with respect for the people and place it comes from, but I can't help but have fun with it in a kitchen as well.
Thank you - still hunting for persimmon but I’d love to give this a go.
It works very well with citrus too! Which is wonderful this time of year. Remove the pips but use everything else.
Perfect, plenty of those everywhere.
Sounds gorgeous - like the marrow rum I used to make as a child. We'd scoop out the seeds, fill the cavity with brown sugar, replace the end and wait for it to disintegrate. Then we'd strain it, bottle it, and leave it for several months.
It was deliciously gloopy and perfect for winter evenings.
I love this idea, and the name!
Sam, I've been absolutely loving your writing. You have a gift for combining fantastic writing with practical culinary advice placed within a historical and cultural context that I find rare.
I was in Southern California over the holidays visiting family and ended up foraging around 100 lbs of lemons. I've been lacto-fermenting the hell out of them and I'm excited to try turning some into cheong now!
This is so brilliant thank you! I saw cheong for sale the other day but bought enough other fermented goods from that shop. Super keen to try now that I have more details - I've made versions of this using elderberry and waterberry (but without really knowing exactly what's happening), now my persimmons may be shared between cheong and table, it looks like a great harvest coming up.
This was a really thoughtful piece on cheong. I loved how you framed it, and the photos were beautiful as always. This way of explaining cheong comes up often in discussions of Korean temple cuisine and traditional food culture. When certain ideas are repeated frequently by well known figures, they gradually become accepted as fact. Knowledge passed down orally over generations does not arrive with footnotes or scientific explanations. It arrives as truth through repetition.
This is how many Koreans learn food traditions. People are told, “That’s how it’s done,” or “That’s how it is,” and because the food tastes good and feels right, it is rarely questioned. Cheong is fermented. Kimchi is good for you. Kimchi tastes sour because it is supposed to. Kimchi belongs in the fridge. These ideas are absorbed as lived knowledge, not analysed knowledge.
Kimchi follows the same pattern. Many people in Korea know how to make it, but not always why it turns sour, why it benefits the body, or why temperature matters. The tradition works, so scientific explanation never felt urgent.
Seen in this context, cheong is best understood as a sugar preserved fruit , plants and grains extract. In its early stages, the high concentration of sugar prevents most microbes from growing, so extraction, not fermentation, does the work. Sugar draws water out of the fruit, allowing flavour compounds to dissolve into the syrup.
Over time, as more water is released, the syrup becomes more diluted and a small amount of very slow, limited fermentation can occur. This fermentation is real, but it is never the main event. Sugar remains the primary preservative.
In Korea, cheong is most often made with LOW water ingredients such as maesil (green plum), yuzu, or ginger. Because these release their juices slowly, the sugar concentration stays high, and cheong behaves more like a preserved extract than a fermented food. When much juicier fruits are used, as is often the case outside Korea, the same method can produce very different behaviour in the jar.
For this reason, cheong is not one fixed thing. How it develops depends on the fruit, plants, grains ,the sugar, and time.
A simple way to explain CHEONG in English is that it’s a clear, refined extract, and it isn’t limited to fruit. In Korea, cheong can be made from fruit, plants, or grains, which is why you’ll see versions like fruit cheong (maesil or yuzu), plant cheong (ginger), and grain cheong (jocheong). The word 청 , Cheong, describes the clarity and refined state of the liquid itself, not whether it’s fermented or how it was made. : )
Thank you for this. Fascinating information and, as others have said it's great to have some ideas for using the cheong too. Joyeux Noël to everyone from France!
This is brilliant, Sam! Thanks a ton!!!🥰
Too late for persimmon season this year--happy Solstice, by the way!--I'll try it next year, maybe after practicing with some other fruit in the meantime.
Thank you for the persimmon cheong recipe....I'm on it! I love all suggestions you shared of ways to use it! Lacquered mushrooms love. I'm sure their are many health benefits too to this elixir. Happy Holidays to all!