Tkemali: Georgia's Sour Plum Sauce That Replaces Ketchup

Every Georgian table has tkemali. Not might have — has. This tart, herb-packed plum sauce is to Georgia what ketchup is to America, except it's actually good. Made from sour cherry plums that grow wild across the Caucasus, tkemali is the sharp, punchy counterpoint to all those rich, walnut-heavy, cheese-loaded dishes that define Georgian cooking. A spoonful next to grilled meat, a drizzle over fried potatoes, a dip for fresh bread — it makes everything better. Two versions exist: green (from unripe plums, bracingly tart) and red (from ripe plums, slightly sweeter). Georgians use both interchangeably and argue endlessly about which is superior. They're both right.

Why Tkemali Matters

Georgian cuisine runs on sauces. While the West defaults to cream, butter, and tomato, Georgia built its sauce tradition around walnuts, herbs, and fruit. Tkemali is the crown jewel of that tradition — a condiment so fundamental that most Georgians can't imagine eating khinkali, shkmeruli, or a simple plate of fried potatoes without it on the table.

The word "tkemali" actually refers to the cherry plum itself (Prunus cerasifera), a small, intensely sour fruit that grows wild across the Caucasus. These aren't the sweet plums you find in Western supermarkets. They're small, hard, and so tart they'll make your eyes water if you bite into one raw. That acidity is the whole point. When cooked down with garlic and fresh herbs, it transforms into something complex — fruity, sharp, herbaceous, and deeply savory all at once.

Every Georgian family makes tkemali. In late spring, when green plums appear, kitchens across the country fire up for the first batch. Then again in late summer when the plums turn red. Jars get filled, labeled, and stored. Some families make fifty liters in a season. It's not excessive — it's necessary.

Green vs. Red Tkemali

The eternal debate. Both versions use the same base technique, but they hit differently:

The recipe below works for both. The only difference: if using ripe red plums, they'll need slightly less cooking time and the sauce will be naturally less tart. Taste as you go and adjust.

Ingredients

Tkemali is a short ingredient list that punches way above its weight. Everything here is doing real work — there's no filler.

Equipment

Step-by-Step Recipe

Step 1: Simmer the Plums

Place the plums in a large pot and add cold water until they're just covered. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat — don't boil aggressively, or the plums will burst and leach flavor into the water instead of concentrating it in the sauce.

Cook for about 20 minutes, until the plums are very soft and a knife slides through them with zero resistance. They should be on the verge of falling apart but not completely disintegrated. The skins will split and the flesh will turn mushy — that's exactly what you want.

Remove the plums with a slotted spoon and set aside. Save the cooking liquid — you'll use it to adjust the sauce consistency later.

Step 2: Make the Plum Purée

Set a fine-mesh sieve over a clean pot or large bowl. Working in batches, press the softened plums through the sieve using the back of a wooden spoon or ladle. Push firmly — you want to extract every bit of pulp. The skins and stones stay behind in the sieve; the smooth purée falls through.

If you have a food mill, even better — it makes this step faster and more efficient. Some cooks use an immersion blender first, then strain out the stones. Whatever method gets you a smooth, pourable purée.

You should end up with roughly 600–700ml of thick plum purée from 1kg of plums. If it's too thick to pour easily, add a splash of the reserved cooking liquid.

Step 3: Season the Sauce

Place the pot with the plum purée over medium-low heat. Mince the garlic finely (or crush it with a pinch of salt using the flat of your knife — the Georgian way) and add it to the purée. Stir in the chopped cilantro, dill, ground coriander, and pepper flakes if using.

Add 1 teaspoon of salt and stir everything together. The kitchen should smell incredible at this point — tart fruit, garlic, fresh herbs hitting hot liquid.

Step 4: Simmer and Adjust

Let the sauce simmer gently for 5–10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the herbs have wilted into the sauce and the flavors have melded. The raw garlic edge should soften but not disappear entirely.

Now taste. This is the critical moment. You're looking for:

• Tartness: Should be pronounced but not punishing. If it's too sour, a pinch of sugar helps (Georgians rarely add sugar, but they also have access to the right plums).
• Salt: Should be well-seasoned. Under-salted tkemali tastes flat and one-dimensional.
• Consistency: Pourable like ketchup, not thick like jam. Add reserved cooking liquid a tablespoon at a time if needed.
• Garlic: Should be assertive. If in doubt, add more.

Step 5: Cool and Store

Remove from heat and let the tkemali cool completely. The flavors will continue to develop as it cools — it'll taste even better the next day.

Transfer to clean glass jars. In the fridge, it'll keep for 2–3 months easily. For longer storage, see the canning section below.

Tips for Perfect Tkemali

Common Mistakes

What to Eat With Tkemali

The short answer: everything. The slightly longer answer:

Variations and Regional Twists

Preserving and Canning

Making tkemali in small batches for the fridge is easy. But if you want to preserve it Georgian-style — enough to last through winter — here's how to do it properly:

Nutrition

Tkemali is surprisingly nutritious for a condiment — it's essentially concentrated fruit and herbs with no added fat or sugar.

Where to Buy Tkemali

If you're in Georgia, tkemali is everywhere — every supermarket, every market stall, every grandmother's kitchen. Outside Georgia, it's harder but not impossible:

Frequently Asked Questions