On Shrubs

And how to make your own.

Is it hot out or did I promise a regularly scheduled newsletter and then promptly deviate from that? *coughs* both *coughs*

Welcome to shrub talk. “Shrub” is one of the many ways that phone salespeople used to mispronounce my last name back in the days of family dinners getting interrupted by the ringing of a phone that was attached to the wall. Nothing like “Is this the Shrub residence?” to tip you off that it was okay to yell “SALES CALLLLLL” at the top of your lungs and smash that end call button. Today’s youth will never know!

Anyway.

Real shrub talk starts now: shrubs are a syrup-like concoction that is also known as “drinking vinegar.” Though they started as a way to elongate the life of easily-spoilt fruits during the pre-refrigeration era, they came back into popularity in the early 2010s as a fancy cocktail component. In the not-so-distant and notable past, they were heralded in the COVID-stricken home mixologist days by the likes of Bon Appétit as an easy-to-make solution for preserving berries not eaten quickly enough in their prime.

So far, you’re likely to have reached one of the three following conclusions about shrubs: 1) they seem complicated 2) they seem frou-frou and 3) they seem like something I am not interested in making in my own home. I’m here to tell that you’re wrong! Except that they are *maybe* a little frou-frou, but in an accessible/cool way like Alison Roman. Shrubs are easy to make but complex and layered in taste, completely accessible for you, yes you, and, perhaps most importantly, composed of ingredients you already have in your house. 

Are you like me, constantly buying fruit because it’s pretty and then not eating it fast enough or are you a well-adjusted adult?

All that you need to make shrubs is some sort of fruit that has perhaps slipped a bit into the funkiness of high summer, some white vinegar, and a bit of sugar. By muddling the fruit and about a cup of sugar together and leaving it to sit on the counter overnight, you make a thick, sweet fruit paste. Strain the solids out (or get lazy like me and don’t!) and add a cup of white vinegar. Taste, adjust, then store in the refrigerator. The taste blossoms with time, and it is absolutely lip-smacking at about a week from its genesis. 

If jars of preserved fruits or vegetables have a tendency to disappear into your refrigerator never to be seen again, I see you, and I’m here to reassure you that this will not be the case for this jar. Colin and I have been stirring about an ounce of shrub into a glass of seltzer water and topping it with fresh herbs on nights when we crave something summery and special without the boozy aftertaste. (Of course, we’ve also tested these shrub seltzers with gin, vodka, and rum added to it, and we’re here to assure you that they’re quite good as well. Have some prosecco on hand? That works too!)

Peach shrub + pet nat (which was supposed to be the subject of today’s newsletter, whoops).

So look around the pantry. Dive into the dark recesses of your crisper drawers. What summery fruits are limping along on their last legs? For me, a bowl of nectarines is calling my name. So is a container of sour cherries, but god knows I’ll cave and make a cherry crisp out of those instead.

Upcoming from me: next week, I SWEAR, you will get an essay about pet-nats! On Friday, paid subscribers are going to get a recipe for beet hummus that has been in HOT demand. Thanks for your support as always!