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The sour cherry soup that defines a Hungarian summer

The sour cherry soup that defines a Hungarian summer

CNN6 hours ago

Chilled, sweet-sour, and gone by September—meggyleves 'cherry soup' reflects centuries of culinary adaptation and a national instinct to make the most of every harvest.
Sour cherries are not a patient fruit. Their season is very short, ripening across Hungary's sun-drenched orchards in late spring before falling from the trees in June and July. For centuries, Hungarian cooks have resourcefully maximized this harvest, pickling and preserving what they can, and eating what they must.
Meggyleves—the dish most associated with sour cherries—is one of the purest expressions of Hungary's gastronomically agile mindset. It was born in traditional peasant kitchens, where preservation was both an art and a necessity. In Hungarian kitchens, freshly picked sour cherries were reduced into compote, then simmered with water, sour cream, sugar, cinnamon, and cloves. The result was a soup that could be chilled or frozen, stretching a fleeting harvest into something that could be enjoyed on the hottest days of Hungarian summer.
How to make meggyleves
How to make meggyleves
1kg sour cherries
4 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp flour
1 cup sour cream
5-6 cloves
2 star anise
1 cinnamon stick
Zest of lemon
Pinch of salt
Water
In a large pot, cover the washed and pitted cherries with water and add the spices and sugar
Bring the mixture to a slow boil until the cherries have been reduced to a compote-like consistency, around 25 minutes
While this is simmering, mix the sour cream and flour together
Take the pot off the heat and slowly add the sour cream so not to curdle it, mixing in the lemon zest at the end
Refrigerate until cold, serve, and enjoy
Meggyleves is a taste of summer that appears, delights, and vanishes by September. But the rhythm of the dish reflects something deeper—Hungary's enduring seasonal resourcefulness.
The country's climate is unique in its ability to support both cool and warm-weather crops, and for generations, the agricultural calendar dictated what was eaten and when. Long before modern gastronomy made seasonality and frugality fashionable, Hungarian kitchens were preserving fruit and vegetables through pickling and fermenting.
Seasonal eating has since become a defining characteristic of Hungarian food culture. While meggyleves—with its low food waste and maximalist flavor—is a highlight of early summer, menus across the country shift with the seasons.
Spring brings nettle soup (csalánleves) and the first shoots of green garlic. Early summer sees the arrival of túrós csusza (pasta with curd cheese). By high summer, fruit takes over—apricots in jams and pastries, plums in dumplings and brandy. Autumn means forest mushrooms, appearing in paprikás (paprika-based chicken stew) and pörkölt (beef and onion stew), while chestnuts—roasted, candied, or pureed—signal the slow turning of the year. Winter is the most critical time for preservation, where pickled peppers, sauerkraut, and hearty stews carry the nation through colder months.
For centuries, meggyleves has relied on the constant of a predictable summer. But that rhythm is beginning to slip. In recent years, Hungary's sour cherry harvests have become increasingly erratic. Late frosts, early heatwaves, and unpredictable rainfall have disrupted the delicate timing needed for the fruit to thrive. What once arrived like clockwork is now harder to come by.
In response, chefs across Hungary are keeping the tradition alive while reimagining its possibilities. At fine-dining restaurants and bistros alike, meggyleves is being reinvented—served as a frozen granita, infused with herbs, or reconstructed with unexpected ingredients. These modern takes reflect the shifting seasons while holding onto the soul of the original dish.
Hungary's deep connection to the land is what makes a dish like meggyleves so vital. It speaks to a food culture attuned to harvests, climate, and the cycles of abundance. And while a Hungarian summer may only last a few months, the memories of its seasonal dishes linger long after bowls are empty.
Find out more about Hungary's culinary heritage here.

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The sour cherry soup that defines a Hungarian summer

Chilled, sweet-sour, and gone by September—meggyleves 'cherry soup' reflects centuries of culinary adaptation and a national instinct to make the most of every harvest. Sour cherries are not a patient fruit. Their season is very short, ripening across Hungary's sun-drenched orchards in late spring before falling from the trees in June and July. For centuries, Hungarian cooks have resourcefully maximized this harvest, pickling and preserving what they can, and eating what they must. Meggyleves—the dish most associated with sour cherries—is one of the purest expressions of Hungary's gastronomically agile mindset. It was born in traditional peasant kitchens, where preservation was both an art and a necessity. In Hungarian kitchens, freshly picked sour cherries were reduced into compote, then simmered with water, sour cream, sugar, cinnamon, and cloves. The result was a soup that could be chilled or frozen, stretching a fleeting harvest into something that could be enjoyed on the hottest days of Hungarian summer. How to make meggyleves How to make meggyleves 1kg sour cherries 4 tbsp sugar 1 tbsp flour 1 cup sour cream 5-6 cloves 2 star anise 1 cinnamon stick Zest of lemon Pinch of salt Water In a large pot, cover the washed and pitted cherries with water and add the spices and sugar Bring the mixture to a slow boil until the cherries have been reduced to a compote-like consistency, around 25 minutes While this is simmering, mix the sour cream and flour together Take the pot off the heat and slowly add the sour cream so not to curdle it, mixing in the lemon zest at the end Refrigerate until cold, serve, and enjoy Meggyleves is a taste of summer that appears, delights, and vanishes by September. But the rhythm of the dish reflects something deeper—Hungary's enduring seasonal resourcefulness. The country's climate is unique in its ability to support both cool and warm-weather crops, and for generations, the agricultural calendar dictated what was eaten and when. Long before modern gastronomy made seasonality and frugality fashionable, Hungarian kitchens were preserving fruit and vegetables through pickling and fermenting. Seasonal eating has since become a defining characteristic of Hungarian food culture. While meggyleves—with its low food waste and maximalist flavor—is a highlight of early summer, menus across the country shift with the seasons. Spring brings nettle soup (csalánleves) and the first shoots of green garlic. Early summer sees the arrival of túrós csusza (pasta with curd cheese). By high summer, fruit takes over—apricots in jams and pastries, plums in dumplings and brandy. Autumn means forest mushrooms, appearing in paprikás (paprika-based chicken stew) and pörkölt (beef and onion stew), while chestnuts—roasted, candied, or pureed—signal the slow turning of the year. Winter is the most critical time for preservation, where pickled peppers, sauerkraut, and hearty stews carry the nation through colder months. For centuries, meggyleves has relied on the constant of a predictable summer. But that rhythm is beginning to slip. In recent years, Hungary's sour cherry harvests have become increasingly erratic. Late frosts, early heatwaves, and unpredictable rainfall have disrupted the delicate timing needed for the fruit to thrive. What once arrived like clockwork is now harder to come by. In response, chefs across Hungary are keeping the tradition alive while reimagining its possibilities. At fine-dining restaurants and bistros alike, meggyleves is being reinvented—served as a frozen granita, infused with herbs, or reconstructed with unexpected ingredients. These modern takes reflect the shifting seasons while holding onto the soul of the original dish. Hungary's deep connection to the land is what makes a dish like meggyleves so vital. It speaks to a food culture attuned to harvests, climate, and the cycles of abundance. And while a Hungarian summer may only last a few months, the memories of its seasonal dishes linger long after bowls are empty. Find out more about Hungary's culinary heritage here.

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