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REI drove me home, and I began unloading my baggage from the van. Kon was sitting adorably on the veranda while swinging his dangling legs back and forth. He was admiring the Fusang flower when he noticed me. “Welcome home!”
I smiled. “I’m home. And welcome, my little guest.”
A smile came into full bloom on his face as he charged toward me and peered into the cargo area of the van. He rifled through the shopping bags, picking up things that he could carry before moving back into the house with the items in his arms. He seemed to have judged that the bloated, hefty shopping bags and the plum boxes were too heavy for his small frame.
While I lined up the plum boxes on the veranda, Kon made several trips between the van and the house, slowly but surely transferring the groceries in my stead. He was trying to lessen my workload, and my heart melted.
Once all five boxes were arranged neatly, I lifted the shopping bags that were significantly lighter thanks to my small assistant. I voiced my heartfelt thanks to Rei, who lifted his hand in response before driving away. I then looked down at Kon, who was standing by next to my legs, and thanked him warmly.
Another big smile—his signature smile—lit up his face. He leaped up onto the veranda and stared at the many plums on display. He sniffed. “It’s so SOUR!” He gasped. “It already smells so sour! I never knew plums were sour even before you pickle them!”
I proceeded to transfer the boxes into the kitchen. Though I was busy, I still had the leisure of responding to him. “Yeeeep. They’re sour and they make your lips pucker. We use plenty of salt when we make umeboshi. I’m sure you’re familiar with those. When we make plum jam, we use plenty of sugar. Even if we use lots and lots of sugar though, the jam is still really sour and intense.”
“Whoaaa! It’s that sour?” He sniffed again. “They smell nice and yummy, but if they’re super sour, I dunno whether I wanna eat them anymore…”
“Ah, about that. Unripe plums are apparently toxic. It’s fine if you pickle them or turn them into jam after they fully ripen, but you mustn’t eat them untreated and unripe,” I warned him in a firm tone. “Maybe your beastfolk nose sensed the toxins and your instincts are telling you that you mustn’t eat them.”
His eyes widened like saucers. “Whaaat?! Toxins?! Plums are scary!”
“I heard it doesn’t cause any problems as long as you eat them in moderation though. And… There we go, the last box,” I said as I stacked the box on the kitchen counter.
Once that was done, I moved to the bathroom sink and washed my hands. I returned to the kitchen and took out a big bowl. It was time to wash the plums.
Kon, who’d also washed his hands in the bathroom, settled down on his usual chair next to the sink. “Are you going to make something right away? Are you going to make umeboshi?”
“Sure am.” I nodded as I got to work.
There wasn’t any heavy lifting today, though.
Use a toothpick to hull the plums. Wash the fruits carefully inside a bowl of water—don’t bruise them. Remove the fuzz from the skin. Done. Soak in water for roughly six hours. You may then begin the pickling process.
When making umeboshi, you can use unripe plums or ripe plums. Either is fine, but unripe plums produce salted plum juice more readily during the pickling process…that’s my opinion, at least. Plus, you will retain more of the fruit’s natural texture, so I personally prefer umeboshi made with unripe plums.
I repeated the process and cleaned the plums thoroughly and gently. Kon seemed to notice the amount of care I was investing, and he asked, “What happens if you bruise the plums?”
I continued washing the plums as I replied to him. “Bruising them or damaging them is a bad idea. The damaged parts will start to spoil and grow mold, and it’ll ruin your entire batch of umeboshi. That’s why you have to be very careful. You must check the condition painstakingly when you buy them, you must be gentle when you process them… Patience and care are virtues when it comes to making umeboshi. Oh, but it’s fine if the plums burst or get damaged after they become all wrinkly in the pickling liquid. The tough part is cleaning them, soaking them for six hours, then pickling them in salt. You can’t let your guard down until you reach the last step.”
He blinked at me with intrigue. “I see… What do you do with damaged plums, then?”
“Well, I’ll separate them from the rest of the batch. Usually, I wait until they ripen and turn them into plum jam. Damage doesn’t matter much for jam, because you cut the fruit open and take out the pit anyway. You’re going to cook it over fire and add plenty of sugar, so you don’t have to worry about mold, either. That’s why I don’t use the expensive, unblemished plums when I’m making plum jam. I go for the cheap, flawed ones.”
“Ohhh! It’s the same as the time when you bought out-jaw strawberries! You buy lots of cheap ones make lots and lots of jam!” He nodded furiously to himself. “Hey, just wondering. Hulling and washing make sense to me, but why do you soak them in water?”
“The soaking removes the harsh, acrid taste…or so I heard.” I shrugged. “I only do it because it’s the proper way to make umeboshi. I’ve never really looked into the details about how each step would affect the final product, but it’ll probably taste bad if you skip this step. The thing is, plums are kinda expensive. If possible, I want to follow the tried-and-true recipe so that I won’t mess up.
“If you soak the plums, bubbles start forming on the plums skin. I think we call it…scum? For fully ripe plums, a couple of hours will suffice, but if you’re using unripe, green plums, you’ll want roughly six to eight hours. This is where you have to be careful once again. Soaking the plums too long will cause discoloring or rotting. The maximum soaking time is probably one night.”
“Huuuh… Plums are so difficult! You can’t damage them, and you can’t soak them for too long.”
“Weeell… There’re also simple types of plum work, so that isn’t necessarily true. But in the case of umeboshi, yeah. It’s a very tough road. One small mistake could ruin your whole batch with mold.” I sighed. “I think I mentioned this before, but that happened to me once. I had to throw away a significant batch with a heavy heart. That was so tragic…
“When I opened the lid of the earthenware pot and peered in, the entire thing was filled with fuzzy mold! I literally fell onto my knees in shock. I think it left lasting trauma on me… Even now, thinking about the amount of money that went to waste, the amount of effort that went to waste, and the amount of time I would go without homemade umeboshi until the plum season arrived again…” I shuddered. “I mean, it was kind of my fault for thinking I could handle making umeboshi in an earthenware pot as an amateur. Ever since then, I’ve stuck to a method that has the least chance of growing mold and is simple at the same time.”
Kon tilted his head in intrigue. “What method is that?”
I flashed him a smile before using my thumb to point at the fridge right next to us.