It’s official—四国(Shikoku), where I live, has entered the rainy season.
Of course, when the rainy season begins in Japan, the announcement is surprisingly vague. The news usually says something like, “We believe Kyushu and Shikoku have now entered the rainy season,” without pinpointing an exact date. It’s less a hard-and-fast declaration, and more of a gentle nudge: “By the way, you’re probably in the rainy season now.” But then, that’s the nature of, well, nature—weather rarely draws clean lines.
In Japan, we call this season “Tsuyu” (梅雨), which literally means “plum rain.” The term originally came from China, and the most widely accepted theory is that it refers to the rain that falls when plums are ripening. Sure enough, as soon as tsuyu arrives, local supermarkets start lining up crates of fresh green plums.
↑ The sight of plums in the store is my personal sign that the rainy season is truly here
From now until the end of summer, it’s the humidity that really gets to me. No matter how I style my hair, the moisture in the air turns it frizzy within minutes. My skin feels sticky, sweat won’t dry, and the heat—oh, the heat!—is so stifling and damp that it feels like being locked in a steam bath.
They say Japan has four seasons, but honestly, summers seem to be getting longer every year. Even in October, it can feel muggy and warm. Then, right around the time I start thinking, “This weather is finally pleasant,” November sweeps in and suddenly it’s cold. These days, the Japanese climate is basically a two-option menu: hot or cold. The sweet spot of autumn lasts only a few fleeting weeks.
↑ This chart shows just how relentlessly muggy it gets—especially in July and August, when the heat is downright oppressive.
To survive this punishing stretch of summer, there’s nothing better than umeboshi—salted, pickled plums packed with salt and citric acid. It’s a bit of old-fashioned wisdom that still works wonders. Once the plums hit the market and you start pickling, you’ll have your very own umeboshi ready by the height of summer in July. Umeboshi really are the very essence of a Japanese summer.
～How to Make Umeboshi (Pickled Plums): The Basics～
What You’ll Need:
1 kg green plums (ume)
180–200g salt (18–20% of plum weight)
Shochu or white liquor (about 35% alcohol), for sterilizing
A pickling jar (glass is ideal, plastic is okay)
A weight (half to equal the weight of the plums)
Red shiso leaves (optional, for flavor and color)
Preparation:
Wash the plums gently and pat them dry.
Remove the stems using a toothpick or similar tool.
Sprinkle the plums with shochu to sterilize them.
Salting:
Layer the plums and salt alternately in the jar.
Pour any remaining salt on top.
Cover with plastic wrap and add the weight on top.
Raising the Plum Brine:
In about 2–3 days, the plums will release enough juice to cover themselves—this is called “umezu.”
As long as the plums stay submerged, mold isn’t likely to be a problem.
Adding Red Shiso (optional):
Once the brine has fully risen (after about a week), massage red shiso leaves with salt to release their color and remove bitterness.
Add them to the jar with the plums for extra fragrance and color.
Sun-Drying the Plums (Late July to August, when it’s hot and sunny):
Once the hottest part of summer arrives, spread the plums and shiso leaves on bamboo trays and sun-dry them for three days.
Bring them inside at night if you wish.
After drying, you can put them back in the brine or store them as is.
*Is Sun-Drying Essential?*
If you’re after that nostalgic, old-fashioned flavor, sun-drying is recommended. But if you’re short on time (or good weather), you can skip it.
Advantages:
Drawbacks:
