Once a Slovak grandma and grandpa plant a cherry tree, they wait three to five years before it begins to bear fruit. When the cherries start decorating the sky with red, the work begins.
All the fruit must be picked in June, or it will rot and fall to the ground. Even with the best effort, a few cherries are always lost. As a child—and even into my teenage years—I loved climbing the ladder to help, lips stained red from sampling a few, basket brimming with juicy fruit. Reaching the tallest branches was never easy but always rewarding. I have the sweetest memories and photos from those summer trips to Slovakia.
As the cherries are picked in batches, we always end up with far more than we can possibly eat. For my grandma, her Slovak roots came with a plan passed down through generations. After feeding as many cherries as she can to her daughter and grandchildren, she faces two choices: kompot or homemade jam.
Cherry kompot is my brother’s favorite—a simple canning recipe of whole cherries, sugar, and water that creates a delightful, shelf-stable treat. A few hours of work yield sweet preserved cherries and a syrupy juice to sip year-round. Originating in the 15th century as a way to save fruit for the cold months, kompot has been a staple of Slovak cuisine for more than 500 years. Tips and tricks for the perfect batch are passed down like heirlooms. Served most often at lunch with hearty meals, kompot can be made from all kinds of fruit. In summer, it’s refreshing; in snowy winters, it provides a needed burst of vitamins. For most Slovaks, lunch feels incomplete without it. Personally, I adore apple kompot the most—but every kind is delicious.
Jam, however, is the more labor-intensive option—but my grandma’s love always prevails. She stands over a pot for hours, stirring cherries with sugar, sometimes mixing in other fruit or spices until the mixture thickens. The result is another shelf-stable treasure that lasts for years. It’s best with yogurt, bread, pastries, or simply by the spoonful. My grandma learned the process from her mother and grandmother, who learned it from theirs. Through jam-making, Slovaks preserve not only fruit but also family tradition. As a college student far from home, I’d do anything for a spoonful of her jam. I’d share the recipe—but it’s too good a secret to give away.
Any leftover cherries are gifted to family, friends, and neighbors, often exchanged for other seasonal goods. It’s an endless cycle of giving and receiving. So the next time you find yourself with more cherries than you can eat, don’t fret—take my grandma’s advice, and make something sweet to last the winter.
