As Food Choices Grow Ever More Standardised, Why Do We Need Fermentation?

Sulima wine doesn’t actually have any set recipe—and even the spelling of the name isn’t standardised. Many tourists who visit Lugu Lake want to try it, yet they find it almost impossible to buy. Why? Because the brewers only make it for their own relatives and friends. With no one buying, production and consumption never form a healthy cycle, and as society changes, fewer and fewer people carry on the craft.

If more institutions step in to raise public awareness and encourage people to see the value of fermented foods—that they are good for health, more sustainable, and carry cultural heritage within them—then more consumers will seek them out, and more fermentation artisans will be able to keep making them.

Jing Yan: Many traditional fermentation artisans are wonderfully simple and honest people. A fully developed commercial system feels utterly bewildering to them. Some will say, ‘My wine tastes absolutely wonderful, so why does no one want to try it?’ These places may be beyond the reach of commercial forces, so those of us who care about this work feel that perhaps only government support can preserve these traditions. Publishers and cultural companies can also use books, promotional materials, and other formats to bring fermentation culture to the public—that’s why “shouting as loud as you can” matters so much.

Liu Xinxing: On top of that, our drinking habits are changing too. For centuries, the mainstream drink in China was huangjiu (yellow rice wine); later, baijiu took over. It was only over 100 years ago that missionaries introduced the Rose Honey grape to Cizhong, a small town on the banks of the Lancang River in Yunnan, and only then did local people begin making wine.

Of course, a culture of drinking domestic wine has now taken root, so companies are able to produce a wider range of wine products. If new fermented categories are to be introduced, it will also take forward-thinking people to drive that shift in consumption. Our country now has an Intangible Cultural Heritage programme to protect traditional artisans, but protection alone may not be enough. Without a base of consumers, pure preservation still lacks the broader market and room for growth it needs.

Jing Yan: In the publishing industry, we at Lake Shore Culture are something of ‘an anomaly.’ Alongside books for a general audience, we also publish works that are more specialised. Over a decade ago, when I was a commissioning editor, we published Cooking, Cuisine and Class by the renowned British anthropologist Jack Goody—a book that reads social change through the lens of food culture. From that point on, we began paying particular attention to works that use food as a way of illuminating broader social issues.

Before The Art of Fermentation, we were working on wine-related publications—for example, the Whisky Encyclopedia—which led us to explore the wider world of fermentation. We found that there simply weren’t many specialist books in this area, and mainland publishing had a gap in the field. It happened to coincide with The Art of Fermentation winning the James Beard Foundation Award that year in the US food industry, so we decided to publish it.

To this day, fermentation remains a very niche subject in China. At the time, our expectations for The Art of Fermentation weren’t very high. We simply hoped that perhaps ten years down the line, someone would find the book in a library or on a second-hand shelf and discover the cutting-edge content we had introduced. But attending this event, I realised there are fellow enthusiasts out there who care about this subject too. It looks as though The Art of Fermentation is no longer a lonely publication after all.

Xiao Chao: How did you first come across this book, Mary?

Mary: On a business trip in 2015, I came across the Traditional Chinese edition of The Art of Fermentation. My degree was in fermentation engineering, which primarily covers large-scale industrial fermentation methods. Many of my friends didn’t even know what the subject entailed—one person asked, ‘So fermentation engineering is basically learning how to make steamed buns?’ And the industrial processes taught in class simply don’t translate to a home kitchen. But when I opened that book, I realised fermentation is actually right at the heart of our daily lives—and even closer to life here in China. It is your life: something you can do regularly at home. Since then, I’ve started experimenting with everyday fermentation, from developing and producing craft beer to gradually building up knowledge and experience. The more you try, the more you see how close fermentation is to daily life, and what a sustainable, culturally meaningful practice it can be.

Xiao Chao: You both studied fermentation engineering, Mary used to work in media, and Mr Liu is an amateur photographer—so bringing out The Incredible Fermentation & Brewing seems like the natural next step. Was there a particular moment or spark that made you want to create a book like this?

Mary: When we were on a business trip in Japan, we walked into Tsutaya Books and found an entire section dedicated to fermentation books. In truth, every province in China has an abundance of fermented foods, yet there are hardly any publications showcasing them. Right there and then, I thought: why don’t we make a book celebrating the fermented foods from every corner of China? Anyone familiar with fermentation knows it is a craft that demands time—so different from today’s fast-paced, efficiency-obsessed way of living. In many areas of Guizhou, Yunnan and Sichuan, changes in lifestyle mean fewer and fewer people are still making traditional fermented foods. Before the book went to print, we spent over half a year travelling and gathering material. On every single trip, we felt the urgency of documenting and preserving what was still there. I believe that whether you’re a maker or a storyteller, we should do our best to keep the ’embers’ alive—so that the flavours, the nutritional value, and the cultural significance of fermentation can be passed on.

But I also firmly believe in one thing: culture must become part of each person’s daily life to truly be culture. I believe that fermented foods will only keep being made and shared if ordinary people not only eat them but actually make them themselves.

Jing Yan: Mary put that beautifully. Industrialised food is moving so fast now that it’s hard to imagine traditional fermented crafts ever reaching supermarket shelves. E-commerce platforms may look convenient, but these traditional fermented foods are impossible to buy even if you have the money to pay for them. Commercial competition is so fierce that traditional crafts are all too easily overlooked—and that is a tremendous loss. Of course, if we could reach a point where we have highly industrialised, mass-produced food on the market while still preserving valuable traditional crafts, that would be the ideal outcome.

Xiao Chao: The Art of Fermentation comes in two volumes—The Magicians of Nature and The Alchemy of Food. Those names are wonderfully apt and really catch the eye. How did you come up with them?

Jing Yan: The book had very low public recognition to start with, so we threw out draft after draft when writing the copy. People’s general impression of fermentation stops at ‘soy sauce,’ ‘wine-making,’ and ‘pickled vegetables.’ We wanted a few evocative words to unlock a deeper understanding. A radish becomes a bowl of dried radish—look at it, and the distance from the raw vegetable seems enormous, like alchemy: pulling a nugget of gold from a pile of raw ore. It also reflects the reverence we feel for the craft of fermentation.

Xiao Chao: The title of The Incredible Fermentation & Brewing is also wonderfully evocative.

Mary: Because “fermentation” really is incredible. Whether you call it “alchemy” or ‘the incredible,’ both words capture the essential character of fermentation. Through fermentation, food is transformed—its form, its flavour, even its capacity for preservation all change dramatically. This transformation fills us with wonder and opens up a world of possibilities, and I believe anyone who has ever tried their hand at fermented food can feel that too. In the end, your batch might turn out perfectly, or it might go completely wrong—but either way, it is a kind of wonder. Liu Xinxing: Fermentation deepens the range and breadth of a food’s form and flavour, giving it far more possibilities. If you want to make a wine, you can treat it as a medium—like writing a poem or painting a picture, using it to express what you have to say. That, to me, is a truly fascinating thing. Everyone can pick up The Incredible Fermentation & Brewing and give it a try for themselves—to experience the wonder firsthand.

Xiao Chao: There is a mainstream view nowadays that people should not attempt fermentation at home because certain variables are uncontrollable and it can be dangerous. What are your views on this?

Jing Yan: Fermentation is a remarkable transformation, and like any transformation, it has an uncontrollable side. Many variables are in play—temperature, humidity, each demanding its own conditions. That is why working with fermentation feels like creating art: there is the part that meets expectations, and the part that surprises you, sometimes rewarding you with flavours you never anticipated. So yes, in some respects fermentation is uncontrollable, and that can feel alarming—but it is also what makes the process so full of surprises. If fermentation is ‘the magicians of nature,’ its magic does not reside solely in the finished product; it resides in the unexpected. It is not only we who control fermentation—we also learn from nature through the process itself. Katz’s writing feels warm and familiar; if you have had a similar experience, you will recognise the charm in what he describes. Some master brewers feel there is a kind of soul in the craft of brewing—a starting point for rethinking how we relate to the natural world. We do not simply take from nature; through our communion with it, we also gain a chance to reflect.

Mary: Jing Yan put it beautifully. Fermentation teaches us how to coexist with nature, because it is not something modern humans invented. In ancient times, our ancestors stumbled upon a discovery: when a beehive fell to the ground and was left for a while, new flavours developed, and the result could even make you feel a little tipsy. What is clever about humankind is that we discerned the patterns of fermentation in the wild.

Liu Xinxing: We encourage people to try their hand at fermentation, and there are several layers to why. First, health and sustainability. Second, cultural preservation. Third, product quality. When you start making fermented foods, you need a grounding in the basics—how a proper procedure works, which risks to avoid. Fermentation is an art, and if we understand its principles and use our own trial and error to guide the process as skillfully as we can, our success rate goes up and food-safety risks come down.

Mary: Last year we ran sharing sessions in cities across the country, and we met so many fermentation enthusiasts. We noticed they all shared something in common: the joy of a successful batch keeps them going. If your first attempt fails and you think it is a waste of time, you are unlikely to try again. But once you grasp a few patterns for success, that joy becomes enduring.

Xiao Chao: Thank you, all of you. In fact, Foodthink wants to show the public what the food system actually looks like, rather than letting commercial messaging dictate everything. Large corporations set industry standards—mandating, for example, that all milk must undergo pasteurisation. If consumers cannot buy raw milk, it becomes very hard to make cheese, and gradually our choices narrow. What we really hope is to tell people that you can make more responsible, more equitable choices—and that craftspeople who still hold those skills can also make a living.

Live Q&A Session

Audience member: Thank you so much for sharing, everyone, but I have a rather pessimistic thought: many traditional fermentation crafts are starved of market support and are in a comparatively disadvantaged position. Small-scale operations like household workshops simply cannot compete on volume with industrial fermentation factories, so the price difference can be enormous. Take, for instance, pickled chilli—in some places, every household makes their own, and after finishing a batch, neighbours simply share it with one another. But once you try to sell what you have made, consumers feel the price is too high. Does that mean these fermented foods are becoming middle-class food—more and more niche?

Mary: Consumers are diverse—we are not trying to turn every food into a fermented food. If your expectations are modest, go ahead and reach for a mass-market product. But the moment you have higher standards—for your health, for the flavour, for the culture embedded in the food, and you want food to open a door to a wider world—you will seek out fermented foods that are something different. In truth, fermentation itself is an expression of diversity—just as we do not need only one voice, we do not need only one standardised food.

Let me give a simple example: alcohol is very hard to erase from people’s lives, because it is more than a beverage. It marks important moments in a person’s or a family’s life, and in those moments you want a fermented drink of higher quality to honour the occasion.

So I do not see it pessimistically—I do not think these fermentation crafts will disappear. But they do need to be known by more people and truly woven into everyday life. Right now, most people’s awareness of fermentation is still very limited. As more and more people learn about it, share it, and try it for themselves, they keep adding fresh energy to the field.

When I was at university studying fermentation engineering, I was not terribly interested, really. It seemed mostly about industrial applications—fun hardly entered into it. But when we actually made something ourselves and kept sharing it with more and more people, I discovered that there really are people willing to set aside a mass-market beer in favour of a craft product. That gives you enormous motivation—you can feel that the energy of fermentation is transmissible. That is a truth we have felt in our bones over the seven or eight years of running this little brand.

About the Fermentation Awakening Festival

The Fermentation Awakening Festival was launched by Foodthink in October 2023, in collaboration with dozens of farmers’ markets, farms, fermented-food artisans, restaurants, publishers, and charitable organisations across China. Centred on the theme of fermented food, the festival runs for over two months across multiple cities and communities, with both online and offline events including screenings of The Alchemy of Food video series, fermentation-themed markets, reading groups, film screenings, sharing sessions, workshops, and tastings. Follow Foodthink’s WeChat account and our co-creation partners on their respective platforms for the latest videos, articles, podcasts, and event updates—find a fermentation event near you, meet more fellow fermenters, and awaken life together!

Fermentation Awakening Festival 

– Organisers –

Foodthink Beijing Organic Farmers’ Market

– Co-creation Partners –

Lake Shore Culture Blue Cheese Yijian Bread Xiucai Bean Workshop

Happy Lab Nine Inch Craft Brewing Jicai Garden Daxiao Coffee

Qiaolike Niupi Tang White Tiger Village coffea SHED

Chengdu Life Market Nanning Urban Farmers’ Market Fengnianqing

(List updated regularly)

– Supporters –

Tianren Culture Heyi Holdings

Transcript: Shan Wei

Edited by: Wang Hao