Fruit Shrubs: A Taste of Summer in a Bottle

UPDATE: Check out the incredible Cherry Shrub vinaigrette at the end of this post!

There are certain moments every summer that I wish I could bottle.

The first handful of sun-warmed blackberries. The perfume of basil when you brush against it in the garden. A sprig of thyme releasing its fragrance as the evening finally begins to cool after another blistering day.

It turns out you can bottle those moments.

They're called shrubs.

The shrub can be your refreshing antidote to triple digit nights.

Not the kind growing in the landscape, of course, but the old-fashioned drinking vinegars that nearly disappeared from American kitchens before making a quiet comeback. They're wonderfully simple to make—fresh fruit, sugar, vinegar, and a little patience—and they capture the bright flavor of summer better than almost any jam or preserve I've ever made.

Best of all, they don't require heating up the kitchen when the thermometer is flirting with triple digits. That's reason enough for me.

I've spent most of my life cooking. There was a time when my kitchen revolved around roasts, braises, and elaborate dinners. These days, I'm far more interested in letting really good ingredients speak for themselves. I love to 'honor' the fruits, vegetables and the seasons. A shrub does exactly that. It doesn't disguise the fruit; it celebrates it.

Like so many of our oldest recipes, shrubs were born of necessity. Long before refrigeration, people needed ways to preserve the harvest. Sugar drew the juices from ripe fruit, while vinegar protected it from spoilage. The result was a concentrated syrup that could be mixed with cool water, sparkling mineral water, or spirits to create a refreshing drink during hot weather. The word itself comes from the Arabic sharab, meaning "to drink," and over the centuries the idea traveled through Europe before becoming firmly rooted in colonial America.

Today, we make shrubs because they're delicious. But I like knowing that every bottle connects us to generations of cooks who hated wasting perfectly good fruit.

Making a shrub ain't rocket science. You're basically using fruit, sugar and vinegar. Oh, and fresh herbs if you like.

Once you learn the basic shrub formula, you hardly need a recipe:

One pound of fruit. Two cups of sugar. Two cups of vinegar.

Everything after that is simply imagination and inspiration.

Start by preparing the fruit. Strawberries should be hulled and roughly chopped up. Ripe blackberries can remain whole ... but with either, you're going to smash 'em up. Use your hands (you might want to wear gloves for this), a cocktail muddler, a potato masher, a mortar and pestle. Put the mess into a large mason jar ... glass is best, I don't recommend plastic or metal. Add the sugar and mix it up. Mix in the fresh herbs if using.

When I made my latest blackberry shrub, I couldn't resist a little French inspiration, so ran out to the herb garden and harvested a handful of fresh Tarragon and Thyme.

Put a lid on it and let it set out on kitchen counter for about 48 hours. If your house is really hot, then put it in the fridge. After the 48 hours, strain the fruit (and herbs if using) syrup out. Any sugar remaining in the jar, just scrape that out with the fruit syrup. I use a strainer like you see below. Using a silicone spatula, I pushed as much liquid out into a bowl as possible. Discard the remaining pulp to the compost pile.

Then, add the vinegar to the juice. I used mostly rosé vinegar with just enough Spanish sherry vinegar to add both depth and some nutty vanilla notes. The ratio was 75% rosé to 25% Sherry vinegar. Even before it had finished its first day of resting (for a couple days) in the refrigerator, I dipped in a spoon for a taste.

I actually laughed out loud. It was that freaking good.

That's one of the delights of making shrubs. Every fruit invites a different companion. Strawberries practically beg for balsamic vinegar and fresh basil. Peaches would love a little cinnamon, ginger maybe or lemon verbena... and perhaps Champagne vinegar. I insist on using red wine vinegar with rhubarb for the amazing ruby color. Cranberries love whole black peppercorns. Don't just ignore vegetables. Beets, celery, carrots ... hey' they're all fair game. Be sure to grate the beets and carrots. Once you start thinking this way, every trip through the farmers' market becomes an exercise in possibility. If you need some help in this regard, I recommend you acquire a copy of The Flavor Bible or it's successor, The Vegetarian Flavor Bible. You'll find all the best primary/secondary/tertiary flavor pairings for just about every fruit, vegetable or other ingredient.

Black cherry shrub and Strawberry shrub. I've added basil, tarragon and thyme to the strawberry and will finish with Balsamic vinegar. To the Black cherry, I added cracked black peppercorns, rosemary and thyme, and will finish with Spanish sherry vinegar.

And shrubs aren't just for drinking. A splash over ice with sparkling water may be the perfect antidote to a sweltering July afternoon, but that's only the beginning. Whisk one into a vinaigrette with good olive oil and Dijon mustard. Drizzle a little over roasted carrots, beets, Brussels sprouts, or sweet potatoes just before serving. Stir some into iced tea. Add it to cocktails—or skip the alcohol altogether. Spoon a little over fresh peaches or vanilla ice cream if you're feeling indulgent.

One bottle. A dozen possibilities.

To me, that's what good cooking has always been about: taking something simple, respecting the ingredients, and letting them become more than the sum of their parts.

Summer never lasts long enough.

Fortunately, shrubs do.

UPDATE: Inspiration hit today. I wanted to make a salad from the lovely, tender Collard greens in my garden and wondered what to pair them with besides the usual (big raisins) ... then I saw the remaining fresh dark cherries in the fridge and the lightbulb came on. I'll massage the collards with a viniagrette made from the Black cherry shrub!

OMG! I couldn't believe how good this is! And, simple? It took all of about 3" to make. Shrub + Dijon mustard + maple syrup + oil = blend. Add some salt. Prepare to be blown away! I'll massage the collard 'ribbons' (remove the stems, roll the leaves and slice into ribbons) with the dressing and let it set for about 15" ... add fresh pitted cherries, sliced shallots and some toasted walnuts. Of course, any of the shrubs will work for a vinaigrette like this. Play! Be inspired!