More Plum Work
KON was still extremely eager for plum syrup, and I tried to persuade him in every way possible to wait out the initial ten days, though I wasn’t having much luck. And that was when Kon’s ears perked up.
Some kind of sound must have gotten his attention, because he began looking over in the direction of the warehouse. My interest was piqued as well, and I walked over to discover that someone was standing at the entrance. He stood in front of the dazzling sunlight and crossed his arms firmly, looking as if he was trying to show off. Though I couldn’t make out his face since he was standing with his back against the bright backdrop, judging by his trousers and his silhouette, it was clearly Rei.
I called out to him. “What are you doing in a place like that?”
“Heh,” he let out a clipped chuckle before raising his right hand and showing me the small preserve jar he held.
After inspecting the color of the liquid within, I blinked in surprise. “Wait, is that plum syrup by any chance? How could you have such good timing every time?”
Rei puffed out his chest with pride until he was practically facing the sky and cackled meaningfully. As he approached me, he said, “After our plum shopping trip, I ended up organizing the shelf with plum products in my pâtisserie and discovered this little guy—one unopened jar of plum syrup I made last year. I might have completely forgotten about it somehow. It’s over a year old, so there’s no way I could use it in the desserts for my shop, but it’d be a waste to chuck it out too. And I figured, hey, why not give it to the guy who loves preserves? That’s why I’m here.”
As he spoke, he gingerly handed the jar over to Kon, who accepted it carefully with both hands. The boy’s eyes were practically glowing as he gazed at the almost transparent liquid with the faintest hint of honey gold, a color left behind by the unripe plums.
Rei then explained, “I sealed it properly after removing the plums, so there shouldn’t be any bitterness or harshness. Plus, it’s only been a single year, which means it shouldn’t have lost too much flavor.” He shrugged. “I can’t use it in my shop, but it should be perfectly good for enjoying at home. Feel free to use it as you please. And, uh, actually I’m craving some sweet, sweet plum soda right now, so would you mind making a glass or two for me?”
Grinning, I nodded. “Right away.”
I returned to the kitchen, washed my hands once again, and donned the apron. I was ready to get to work in the kitchen.
Plum squash and plum soda are effortless recipes. Chill water or sparkling water in the fridge, or add ice. Add an amount of plum syrup to taste. Give it a stir, and now, you’ve got a tasty drink. If you’ve got plums preserved in syrup—the plums you take out at the ten-day mark—you could throw that in as well, though it’s optional.
In my case, I had sparkling water ready in the fridge, which I poured into three cups. For aesthetic purposes, I also added two or three ice cubes to each. After a taste test of the plum syrup, I poured a suitable amount into each cup before slowly mixing them with a swizzle stick.
My report for my taste test was as follows: the syrup was incredible, as you would expect from a professional pâtissier. He’d likely used high-quality rock candy, because the sweetness was silky and mellow. I concluded that if I added it to sparkling water to make plum soda, there would be no astringent or jarring taste at all, resulting in a refreshing drink that you could finish in one go.
You can add a twist to your recipe, of course, such as making it a sour cocktail by adding a small amount of salted plum juice or vinegar, mixing in a bit of grated ginger to give it a ginger ale-like flavor, or even mixing in tomato juice to make a gazpacho-style cocktail. But for this time, I think simple is best. Let’s go with a normal plum soda.
When I was done, I put the cups on a tray and carried it over into the living room. There, the excited Kon was sitting on his knees restlessly, while Rei looked like he was right at home, sitting leisurely with his legs spread wide apart. I gently put down the tray in front of them before settling down on my own seat and taking my own cup into my hands.
I took a sip. Yum. The taste was what I’d anticipated—a beautiful blend of sweet and sour, coupled with the refreshing taste of cool carbonated water. It was both homely and sophisticated at the same time.
Kon was next. When he took a sip, he gasped. “Whoa! It’s not as sour as I thought! This is good! It’s really good!”
Last but not least, Rei tried his drink. “Yeah, I was right. It’s only been one year, so it hasn’t lost any flavor. Not bad at all.”
I addressed Kon first. “You use more sugar in plum syrup than in jam, which gives it a nice balance between sweet and sour that’s easier to enjoy. But well, also because it’s got more sugar, you’ll be in trouble if you don’t dilute it first. When you drink this on a hot day or when you’re sweaty from exercise, it practically washes away your fatigue, and you feel like you can take on the world again.” I paused, turning to Rei. “By the way, Rei, I think plum syrup should stay good even after two or three years.”
“Huuuh!” Kon exclaimed. “I can’t wait until it starts getting hot in summer!”
Smiling, Rei replied, “I mean, yeah, that’s probably the case for taste. Still, my personal policy is that if I’m making something for my customers, I want to use the freshest syrup possible, preferably the stuff I made in the same year. There’s no scientific research backing it up, but there’s a saying that the physical condition of both people and animals adjusts depending on the weather that year. Your entire body changes to accommodate it. To add to that, some people also say that the fruits and vegetables grown in the same climate within the same year are better for your bodies.
Shrugging, he continued, “I don’t know how much truth there is in these statements, but I feel like they make a bit of sense in my mind? And knowing that, I kind of want to take that into consideration when I can, even if it might not mean anything.”
Rei’s fixation probably stemmed from his professionalism and pride as a pâtissier. In that case, it would be tactless of me to continue explaining my side of the argument, so I held my tongue.
After a moment of silence, I looked over at the kitchen and spoke up. “That’s interesting… Hmm, with how tasty your syrup is, I feel like we can enjoy it in a lot of other types of drinks and food. It will definitely be nice as a sherbet or in gelatin desserts… Oh, mixing it with yogurt could be delicious too. Other than that… A shiratama dango fruit punch would be a lovely combination to experiment with. If we use summer fruits like watermelons, it should become a light and refreshing dessert that’s perfect in the heat.”
At one point, I wasn’t quite talking to anyone specific, but more voicing my honest thought process out aloud. However, after hearing my ramble, both Kon and Rei gained a glint in their eyes. Kon’s glint was a ravenous one of a glutton. Meanwhile, Rei’s glint was an interested one of a professional in the field, as if to say, “I never realized those were options!” They both stared intently at me, as if they were silently requesting me to make some on the spot.
I felt a wry smile creeping onto my lips. Uh, Rei, you’re the pro out of the two of us, so I think you should be the chef instead. Oh well.
Either way, no matter which they wanted me to make, I didn’t have the supplies nor the time right now. And so, I placated them with this reply. “Maybe next time. I don’t mind taking requests when I’ve got the time and ingredients.”