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"This TikTok-famous onsen-style salad leans on ultra-crisp, thināskinned cucumbers to soak up an icy soyāsesame brine, giving you chilled, snap-crunch bites you canāt get from regular cukes."
This viral Japanese hot springs cucumber salad is all about the cucumber itself: thināskinned, extraācrisp varieties that drink up a cold soy, rice vinegar, and sesame marinade in minutes. Learn why the right cucumber makes this TikTok favorite so refreshing and irresistibly crunchy.
The first slice cracked under my knife like snapping into a green icicle, sharp enough that my teenage son looked up from his phone. It was a late August afternoon in Austin, the kind where the air feels heavy and the kitchen counter sweats right along with you. I had a cutting board full of tiny, cool Persian cucumbers, still beaded with condensation from the fridge, and a TikTok video paused on my laptop showing a bucket of cucumbers bobbing in an icy, soyādarkened bath.
I had already tried the trend once with the big, waxed American cucumbers from my usual grocery run. That batch had looked promising in the bowlāglossy, scattered with sesameāand then collapsed into faintly salty, floppy slices before we even finished dinner. The flavor was there, but the texture was all wrong. It nagged at me for days.
So there I was, a week later, with a pound of thināskinned cucumbers lined up like little green torpedoes. As they fell into a mixing bowl and the kosher salt rained downā6 grams, just like Iād written in my notebookātheir fresh, grassy smell mixed with the deeper aroma of toasted sesame oil waiting on the counter. A bag of ice cubes sweated next to a measuring cup of fridgeācold water, ready to turn soy sauce and rice vinegar into what the video called an onsen, or hot springs, bath.
That was the moment I realized: this salad isnāt really about the trend, or even about the brine. It lives or dies on one ingredient choiceāthose thināskinned cucumbersāand on how you treat them in the 45 minutes the recipe card promises from start to finish.
The smell that always comes back to me first is the steam: mineralārich, faintly metallic, curling up around cedar planks and wet stone. In 2010, I spent a drizzly March afternoon at an onsen in Hakone, shuffling between steaming pools and cooler baths until my fingers pruned. Just outside the changing room, a vendor had a huge tub filled with ice water and bright green cucumbers on bamboo skewers, bobbing like little buoys.
I remember biting into one straight from the ice: the snap echoed inside my head, and the chill shot right up behind my eyes. The flavor was simpleāsalty, clean, a hint of something savory that I later learned was often kombu or soyābut that texture was the revelation. It was the kind of crunch that makes you suddenly aware of every other time a cucumber has let you down.
Fastāforward to a sticky evening in 2023, back home in Austin. A friend sent me a viral TikTok clip of what the creator called a Japanese hot springs cucumber salad: thick coins of cucumber plunged into an icy soyāsesame bath, garlic and ginger swirling around them. āThis is your thing,ā she wrote. She was right; Iād always been a little obsessed with quick pickles and Japaneseasazuke(lightly pickled vegetables), and that memory of Hakone was still tucked away somewhere behind my eyes.
My first attempt, as I mentioned, leaned on what I had: two big American slicing cucumbers. The flavor of the brine was wonderfulāsoy sauce, unseasoned rice vinegar, a spoonful of sugar, toasted sesame oil, grated garlic and gingerābut the cucumbers themselves were overwhelmed. After the 30āminute soak, they were bendy at the edges and lost that hotāspringāsnack energy. The salad tasted fine; it just didnāt feel right in the mouth.
Which brings me back to those thināskinned cucumbers on my counter a week later. Once I swapped to Persian cucumbers and treated them more like that Hakone snackāpreāsalting, then plunging them into an icy, soyābright bathāeverything finally clicked. Thatās what this recipe is about for me: chasing a texture I first met halfway around the world, and learning that the internet trend only really works when you give the cucumbers the respect they deserve.
Run your fingertips along a Persian cucumber and youāll feel tiny ridges under a skin that yields without much pressure. Do the same with a big, waxy American slicing cucumber, and you hit a tougher, squeakier surface that almost resists the knife. That tactile difference tells you most of what you need to know about why this recipe insists on thināskinned cucumbers.
In the recipe card, youāll see the base call for 450 grams of thināskinned cucumbersāabout 1 pound, or 4 to 5 Persian, Japanese, or mini cucumbers. Those varieties share a few key traits:
By contrast, those standard, thickāskinned cucumbers shed a tremendous amount of water once they meet salt. In my second round of testing, I sliced a Persian cucumber and a regular supermarket cucumber into identical 1.25ācentimeter (halfāinch) coins, salted them side by side with 6 grams of kosher salt, and waited 15 minutes. The bowl with the supermarket cucumber had almost twice as much liquid pooling at the bottom. After their 30āminute swim in the same icy soyāsesame brine, the difference was brutal: the Persian slices snapped; the others folded.
So when the recipe notes say that āthicker, waxed American slicing cucumbers shed too much water and go limp in this 30āminute soak,ā thatās not a stylistic warning. Itās the core of the recipe: this hot springsāstyle salad only behaves the way TikTok promises when you start with the right cucumbers.
Everything else in the ingredient listāthe 6 grams of kosher salt (2 teaspoons Diamond Crystal or about 1 and oneāquarter teaspoons Morton), the fridgeācold water, soy sauce, unseasoned rice vinegar, 12 grams of sugar, toasted sesame oil, garlic, and gingerāexists to flatter that one choice. They season, they perfume, they cool. The cucumbers do the heavy lifting on texture.
The first sound you hear is the soft hiss of salt hitting cucumber. As soon as the crystals land, the slices start to glisten, tiny droplets forming on the surface like dew on grass. This is your cue that the recipeās timeline is working properly.
The recipe card lists 15 minutes of prep time, 0 minutes of cook time, and 30 minutes of rest time, for a total of 45 minutes. Within that framework, here is what you are really doing:
Absolutely. The ingredient ratios scale well. Just be sure not to overcrowd the bowl or jar; the cucumbers should be able to move around in the brine and make contact with the ice. If you are making a very large batch, splitting it between two containers can help keep everything equally cold and seasoned.
However you size it, remember the core DNA of this recipe: thināskinned cucumbers, a carefully balanced soyāsesame brine, and a strict respect for that 30āminute icy soak. Get those right, and your kitchenāno matter where it isācan echo a little of that crunch I first tasted stepping out of a hot spring in the rain.
The cucumbers should feel firm and cool under your hands, with that faint grassy scent you only get from really fresh ones. Rinse the 450 g thināskinned cucumbers under cold running water and pat them very dry with a clean kitchen towel. Trim just the stem ends; leave most of the length intact so you get satisfying, snapāworthy pieces.
Youāll hear a crisp little crackle as the knife moves through the skin. Using a sharp knife, cut the cucumbers into thick coins or on a slight diagonal, about 1.25 cm (Ā½ inch) thick. Aim for pieces that are all roughly the same size so they chill and season evenly in the brine.
The moment the salt hits, the cucumbers will start to glisten as tiny beads of moisture rise to the surface. Place the sliced cucumbers in a medium mixing bowl and sprinkle evenly with 6 g kosher salt. Toss with your hands to coat every piece, then spread them out in an even layer in the bowl.
Let them sit at room temperature for 10ā15 minutes. Youāll see a small puddle of liquid collect at the bottom of the bowlāthatās exactly what you want.
There should be a light, fresh cucumber aroma when you lean over the bowl, not a harsh salty smell. Tip the cucumbers into a colander and give them a very quick rinse under cold running waterājust a few secondsāto wash away the excess surface salt.
Shake the colander well, then let the cucumbers drain for 5 minutes while you mix the brine. They should feel lightly seasoned if you taste one, not aggressively salty.
The brine should smell cool and savory, with a little vinegar sharpness in the back of your nose. In a clean mixing bowl or a large measuring jug, whisk together 120 g fridgeācold water and 60 g soy sauce until blended.
The bowl should feel cold to the touch; starting with chilled water makes it much easier to get to that hotāspringāstand level of iciness once everything is mixed.
Thereās a subtle sweetness that should drift up as you whisk here, softening the vinegarās sting. Add 30 g unseasoned rice vinegar and 12 g granulated sugar to the bowl. Whisk until the sugar fully dissolves; the liquid should go from slightly grainy on the bottom to completely smooth.
As soon as the toasted sesame oil hits the bowl, youāll get that warm, nutty aromaāalmost like the scent from a justāopened bag of roasted seeds. Whisk in 10 g toasted sesame oil until itās evenly dispersed; the brine may look slightly glossy.
Finely grate or mince 6 g garlic and 5 g fresh ginger if you havenāt already, then whisk them into the liquid. Let the brine sit for 2ā3 minutes so the garlic and ginger start to perfume the whole bowl.
The brine should feel almost shockingly cold when you dip a fingertip inālike dipping your toes into a cool spring. Transfer the bowl of brine to the refrigerator for about 10 minutes while the salted cucumbers finish draining. If youāre in a hurry, nestle the bowl into a larger bowl filled with ice and a little water, stirring occasionally, until well chilled.
You should hear a gentle splash as the cold brine hits the bowl of cucumbers. Place the drained cucumber slices in a medium serving bowl or a shallow container. Pour the chilled soyāsesame brine over the top, making sure every piece is submerged or at least well coated.
Give everything a gentle stir so the garlic and ginger are evenly scattered rather than clinging to just a few slices.
As the salad rests, the soy and sesame aromas will deepen, and the cucumbers will turn slightly more translucent at the edges. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for about 20 minutes, up to 30 minutes total rest time from when they first hit the brine.
The cucumbers are ready when theyāre icyācold all the way through and snap cleanly when you bite into one, with no rubbery resistance in the center.
Just before serving, lift out a slice and listen for that tiny crunch as you bite in; it should taste bright, savory, and cool. If itās a bit sharper than you like, stir in a splash more cold water to soften the edges. If you want a touch more tang, add a tiny drizzle of rice vinegar and stir again.
Serve the cucumbers straight from the cold bowl, making sure each portion gets some of the garlicky, gingery brine spooned over the top. The texture should be firm and juicy, with a clean snap rather than a soft bend when you press a slice between your fingers.
Any leftovers can stay in the brine in the refrigerator for a few more hours, but for the best crispness, enjoy them the same day.
This Japanese hot springs cucumber salad delivers icy, snap-crunch bites thanks to thin-skinned cucumbers and a quick soyāsesame brine. The salting step keeps the texture sharp while locking in clean, balanced flavor. Itās an easy way to bring a little onsen-inspired refreshment to your table in under an hour.
For the snappiest texture, stick closely to the timing: 10ā15 minutes for the initial salt rest and about 30 minutes in the icy soyāsesame brine. Going longer can soften the cucumbers and dilute the bright, focused flavor that makes this onsen-style salad so refreshing.
Serving Size 1 side serving (about 1/4 of recipe)
The nutritional information provided is an estimate based on standard online calculators. Actual values may vary depending on exact ingredient brands, natural variations, and portion sizes. If you have allergies, celiac disease, or specific dietary health concerns, always verify ingredients and consult a medical professional.
Youāll get the best snap and clean flavor from Persian, Japanese, or mini cucumbers, because their thin skins and small seed pockets donāt dump a ton of water into the brine. English cucumbers are a closer second choice: peel off most of the thick skin, slice a little thicker, and salt for the full 15 minutes. Standard waxed American cucumbers are the worst fit hereāwhen I tested them, they released so much water that the soyāsesame brine turned weak and the pieces went limp before the 30āminute rest was over.
The most common causes are skipping the preāsalting step or using the wrong type of cucumber. If you donāt salt first, the cucumbers dump their water straight into the brine, which dilutes it and softens the texture. Overāsoaking can also do itāstick close to that 30āminute brine time; in one of my early tests, I let them sit for over an hour and they crossed from crisp to slightly rubbery.
A lot depends on your soy sauce and salt brand. If it tastes too salty after the 30āminute chill, you can stir in a tablespoon or two of cold water and a tiny splash more rice vinegar to rebalance, then let it sit another 5 minutes. Next time, reach for lowāsodium soy, stick with the lower Morton salt amount if thatās your brand, and donāt go past the 10ā15 minute preāsalting windowāwhen I pushed the salting closer to 20 minutes, the seasoning tipped over the edge.
Itās best within a few hours while the cucumbers are still extra crisp and the brine tastes bright. If you want to work ahead, you can slice and preāsalt the cucumbers, then refrigerate them (wellādrained) up to 4 hours before you add the icy soyāsesame brine. Once dressed, theyāll keep in the fridge for about 24 hours; after that, theyāre still tasty but lose that snappy, hotāspringāstand texture.
The salad is naturally vegan as long as your sugar is boneācharāfree, so the main tweak is making it glutenāfree. Swap the soy sauce for a glutenāfree tamari or a good quality Japaneseāstyle glutenāfree soy; start with the same amount, then taste and adjust. Everything else in the recipeārice vinegar, sesame oil, garlic, ginger, cucumbersāis already glutenāfree, but always doubleācheck labels if youāre cooking for someone with celiac disease.
The icy brine is what gives this that hotāspring snack feeling: crisp, chilled cucumber with a concentrated, refreshing hit of soy and sesame. When I tried a roomātemperature version, the flavor was fine but the cucumbers didnāt firm up the same way and it lost that almost ācoldāsoakedā texture. Using fridgeācold water and plenty of ice shocks the salted cucumbers so they stay crunchy instead of slowly relaxing in a lukewarm bath.
You can play a little, as long as you keep the saltyāsweetātangy triangle in mind. Light brown sugar works well in the same weight for a deeper note; liquid sweeteners like honey will make the brine a bit murkier but still tasty if you whisk until fully dissolved. For vinegar, unseasoned rice vinegar is the most gentleāif you swap in seasoned rice vinegar, reduce the added sugar slightly, and if you reach for something sharper like white vinegar, use less and taste as you go so it doesnāt overpower the sesame and ginger.
By the end of that rest, the cucumbers have darkened slightly at the edges, picking up soy and sesame aroma without collapsing. They are not deeply pickled like a longāfermented cucumber; they are lightly seasoned, almost as if they spent half an hour in a Japanese convenience store refrigerator, waiting by the onigiri. The key is that they emerge from the brine colder and crisper than when they went in.
The first thing I noticed when I opened the fridge after my third test batch was the smell: toasted sesame and garlic blooming out of the cold, with just a prickle of ginger in the back of my nose. The cucumbers, when I fished one out, were so cold they almost squeaked against my teeth. But the real difference between that bowl and my earlier attempts came down to tiny decisions about timing and temperature.
Over the course of testing, I ran four sideābyāside batches to understand what really matters:
After the 30āminute brine rest, Batch 2 was the clear winner. Batch 1 tasted good but bled water into the brine; the flavor on the surface was strong, but the centers felt a little bland. Batch 3 had decent flavor all the way through but lacked that almost shocking crispness I remembered from Hakoneāthe warmth had gently relaxed the cucumber flesh. Batch 4, as expected, was puffy and borderline mushy around the seeds.
If you have ever salted eggplant or cabbage before cooking, you have already used this idea. Food scientists like Harold McGee have written about how salt draws water out of vegetable cells through osmosis. In simple terms, here is what is happening with these cucumbers:
That short, 10ā to 15āminute preāsalting does two important things for this recipe:
Temperature is the other quiet hero here. In my warmābrine batch, the cucumbers softened noticeably even though they only sat for the same 30āminute rest. In the icy brine version, the cold acted like a pause button:
So when the method asks you to use fridgeācold water and then add enough ice that the bowl feels very cold to the touch, it is not mere aesthetics. It is what separates a vaguely pickled salad from something that actually earns the āhot springsā comparison.
The first time I stirred the soy, vinegar, sugar, and sesame oil together, the smell alone made my shoulders drop: nutty, sharp, a little sweet, with that unmistakable shoyu depth. But once you have made the base recipe a couple of times, it is hard not to start adjusting little dials to suit your own table while keeping the spirit of those icy onsen cucumbers.
The core brine in the recipe card is built on a simple ratio: fridgeācold water to soy sauce to rice vinegar, rounded out by 12 grams of sugar, toasted sesame oil, garlic, and ginger. Here is how you can play within that framework:
The recipe suggests Japanese shoyu if you can find it, and for good reason. Shoyu tends to be a little smoother and slightly sweeter than some allāpurpose soy sauces, which makes the brine feel round rather than harshly salty.
The ingredient list specifies unseasoned rice vinegar so you are in control of both sugar and salt. If all you have is seasoned rice vinegar, you can still make the recipe; just be aware that it already contains sugar and salt.
The 10 grams of toasted sesame oil in the ingredient list are strong enough that your kitchen may smell like a noodle shop as soon as it hits the bowl. If you enjoy heat, you can layer flavor on top of that without disturbing the base recipe:
All of these keep the heart of the dish intact: thināskinned cucumbers in an icy, soyābased brine. You are adjusting the accent colors, not repainting the walls.
There is a very particular disappointment in lifting a piece of cucumber out of a gorgeousāsmelling brine, only to have it bend instead of snap between your fingers. I have been there with this recipe more than once, especially early on when I was impatient or using whatever cucumbers were on sale.
When a reader tells me their Japanese hot springs cucumber salad came out watery or mushy, it is almost always one of these issues.
Symptom:The slices are soft around the seeds, with a pale, almost spongy center.
Likely cause:Thickāskinned American slicing cucumbers or large English cucumbers with big seed cavities.
Fix:For this specific recipe, treat thināskinned cucumbers as nonānegotiable. If you absolutely must use an English cucumber, halve it lengthwise, scoop out the seedy center with a spoon, and cut the remaining flesh into thicker halfāmoons. Reduce the brine time by 5 to 10 minutes and serve promptly. The result will still not be quite the same, but it will hold up better than full slices.
Symptom:The brine tastes diluted and the cucumber centers feel bland, even after the full 30āminute soak.
Likely cause:Either skipping the preāsalting entirely or cutting the 10ā to 15āminute salt rest short.
Fix:Give the salt its full window to work. Those 10 to 15 minutes at room temperature are built into the 15āminute prep time in the recipe card; you can whisk the brine while you wait. You should see a visible puddle of liquid at the bottom of the bowl before you drain and move on.
Symptom:The cucumbers are well seasoned but feel a little rubbery, and the bowl never quite frosts up on the outside.
Likely cause:Using tapātemperature water and too little ice.
Fix:Start with water that has already been chilled in the fridge, as the ingredient list specifies, and add enough ice that you can feel the cold through the bowl. If your kitchen is very warm, tuck the whole bowl into the refrigerator during the 30āminute rest instead of leaving it on the counter.
Symptom:The cucumbers are deeply browned at the edges from soy and have lost their bright crunch.
Likely cause:Leaving them in the brine for significantly longer than the 30āminute rest time (an hour or more).
Fix:Treat that 30āminute brine time in the recipe card as a true guideline, not a suggestion. If life pulls you away and you cannot serve them right at 30 minutes, move the cucumbers and brine to the fridge and plan to eat them within a couple of hours. For longer storage, see the makeāahead section below.
Symptom:The slices look a little dull even before salting and have soft spots or wrinkled skin.
Likely cause:Older cucumbers that have already begun to lose internal moisture.
Fix:This salad is a showcase for freshness. If your cucumbers are limp before you start, save them for a blended soup and hunt down fresher ones for this recipe. In my own testing, cucumbers that had been in the fridge for more than five days never matched the snap of the ones I bought and used within a day or two.
When I open the fridge the next day and see a glass container fogged with condensation, I know there are cucumbers waiting. The question is always the same: did I remember to separate them from the brine, or are we in softer territory today?
This salad is at its best about 5 to 10 minutes after that 30āminute brine restājust long enough for the chill to reach the center of each slice, but not so long that the texture begins to drift. That said, real life does not always line up neatly with recipe timelines, so here is how I handle makeāahead and leftovers.
This way, the active brining still happens within the window the recipe was designed for, but most of the prep is out of the way.
If you have leftovers, or if you intentionally make more than you need, here is what I have found after a few tests:
For the best of both worlds, I like to eat most of the cucumbers on day one, then chop any leftovers and toss them with rice or noodles the next day, where that slightly softer texture feels right at home.
The sizzle of a skillet and the whir of the rice cooker are usually the soundtrack in my kitchen when this salad comes out of the fridge. The cucumbers might be the coldest thing on the table, but they are rarely alone.
In my house, this Japanese hot springs cucumber salad has settled into a few natural roles:
Nutritionāwise, this salad is light but satisfying. Based on the ingredient amounts in the recipe cardāabout 1 pound of cucumbers, 12 grams of sugar, 10 grams of toasted sesame oil, and the soyāvinegar baseāa rough estimate for one of the four side servings looks like this:
These numbers are approximate and will shift depending on your specific soy sauce and how much brine you actually consume. If you are monitoring sodium or sugar intake closely for medical reasons, it is always a good idea to plug the ingredients into a trusted nutrition calculator or talk with a dietitian about portions that work for you.
What I can say from experience is that this dish feels cooling, light, and refreshing on the plateāa crisp counterpoint to richer grilled meats, stirāfries, or even a simple bowl of udon.
Every time I share this recipe, the same handful of questions pop up in my inbox, usually from people who have watched the TikTok videos and want to know how closely this version hews to what they have seenāor to what they have tasted in Japan.
You can, but you will be making a slightly different dish. If you only have standard thickāskinned cucumbers, I strongly suggest peeling them, halving them lengthwise, and scooping out the seeds. Cut the remaining flesh into thicker chunks and reduce the brine time to about 15 to 20 minutes, tasting as you go. They will still soften faster than Persian or Japanese cucumbers, but this method will help.
This recipe is inspired by a mix of two things: the skewered cucumbers in icy brine I have eaten at onsens, and the soyāsesame flavor profile that has taken off on TikTok. Traditional onsen cucumbers are often more simply seasoned, sometimes with just salt and kombu. Think of this recipe as a homeācook, internetāinfluenced interpretation that still respects the core idea: very cold, very crisp cucumbers as a postābath or hotāday refreshment.
You can reduce the 12 grams of sugar by half and still have a balanced brine, especially if you prefer a sharper, more vinegary bite. Leaving it out entirely, though, tips the brine toward harshness; the sugar is not there to make things overtly sweet so much as to soften the edges of the soy and vinegar. If you are cutting back for dietary reasons, start with half, taste, and adjust future batches based on what you like.
No, not as written. The base recipe relies on garlic, ginger, soy, vinegar, and sesame for flavor, but there is no chile heat. If you enjoy spice, see the variation ideas above for ways to add shichimi togarashi or chili crisp at the table.
Yes, assuming your sugar is processed in a way that meets your standards, the ingredients in this salad are naturally vegan. There are no animal products in the base recipe.
For the hot springsāstyle texture this recipe aims for, try to eat them within a few hours of finishing the 30āminute brine rest. After that, they gradually soften. By the next day, they behave more like a light pickleāstill tasty, just without the same snap. If you know you will be keeping them longer, lifting them out of the brine and storing them separately can help preserve more of that crunch.
* Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet. Your daily values may be higher or lower depending on your calorie needs.
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