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In truth, besides pickles, fermented products such as bread, cheese, yoghurt, sour cream, salami, vinegar, soy sauce, chocolate, coffee, beer, and wine had long been the soul of my family’s diet (as they are for many), though we never gave them much serious thought or discussion.

However, through the various turns of life, I encountered different nutritional philosophies and dietary experiments, which led me to truly understand that the bacteria in live fermented foods are beneficial for digestion, and I experienced firsthand how these bacteria help the body restore its health.

I also remember standing in the garden among piles of cabbage and radishes, yet seeing nothing but pickles, beckoning to me with irresistible temptation. The inseparable bond between me and the pickle has continued ever since.

In this day and age, most of us are brought up with the notion that bacteria are dangerous enemies and that the refrigerator is an absolute household necessity. Given this mindset, the prospect of leaving food unrefrigerated to encourage bacterial growth naturally evokes fears of danger, illness, and even death. People often ask:

“How do I know that the bacteria growing are the ‘good’ kind?”

Most people believe that transforming food safely through microorganisms requires extensive knowledge and precise control; therefore, it is best left to the experts.

In truth, the fermentation of food has been a constant throughout human history, yet this ancient ritual has been shifted onto industrial production lines. Fermentation has all but vanished from the home kitchen. Over millennia, various cultures developed unique fermentation techniques—learning to manipulate conditions through the observation of nature and trial and error—but these skills are now fading, facing the risk of extinction.

I have been immersed in the world of fermentation for nearly twenty years, despite having no formal background in microbiology or food science. I am simply a food-lover and a fermentation generalist with a longing to return to the earth; I have fallen headlong into the vortex of fermentation, driven by my appetite, a reverence for food, and a desire for health.

Since becoming obsessed with fermentation, I have conducted countless experiments, spoken with a vast number of people on the subject, and read extensively. Yet, the more I experiment and the more I learn, the more I realise just how far I am from being an “expert”.

Those who grew up surrounded by traditional fermented foods possess a knowledge far more profound than my own. Others have become professional producers, developing sophisticated techniques to ensure consistency in quality for production and sale.

Such people are countless, and all far more skilled than I in brewing beer, making cheese, baking bread, curing salami, or brewing sake. As for the microbiologists and scientists specialising in genetics, metabolism, kinetics, community dynamics, or other fermentative mechanisms, their depth of understanding is simply beyond my reach.

My knowledge of fermentation is by no means encyclopaedic. People across the five continents ferment their own local foods, and the endless variations are so vast that no single person could possibly master them all. Nevertheless, I have been fortunate enough to hear many wonderful stories and taste a great variety of home-made and artisanal fermented foods.

Click the images to read stories of people and fermentation▼

This topic will be continuously updated

This book is a compendium of fermentation wisdom, drawing on the perspectives of many. While I have striven for comprehensiveness, it cannot match the breadth of an encyclopedia. Nevertheless, my original resolve in writing this book remains: I hope to help readers distinguish between different types of fermentation and share how to explore the craft and use the right tools to integrate fermentation into daily life.

Certain co-evolutionary relationships, deeply embedded in culture over long periods, can spread and adapt across borders rather than simply vanishing.

As I explore and reflect on fermentation, the word that constantly surfaces in my mind is ‘culture’.

Fermentation is intertwined with culture in many ways, echoing the various layers of meaning embedded within the word—from its literal definition and microbiological explanation to its broader connotations. We refer to the starters used to make yoghurt, or those that trigger fermentation, as ‘cultures’.

At the same time, culture encompasses the entirety of the languages, music, art, literature, scientific knowledge, belief systems, and agricultural and culinary techniques that humanity strives to pass down through the generations (with fermentation playing a central role in the latter two).

Indeed, the word ‘culture’ derives from the Latin *cultura*, meaning ‘cultivation’. The cultivation of the land and the plants, animals, fungi, and bacteria that dwell within it lies at the very heart of culture. Reclaiming our food and the means of participating in its cultivation is the key to reviving culture. We must take action to break free from the isolated, dependent role of the consumer—a role where we are treated like children—and return to our positions as producers and creators, thereby reclaiming our dignity and power.

In truth, this mindset should apply to all food, not just fermentation (even if the latter is an inevitable biological drive within food itself). Every living organism on Earth interacts intimately with its environment through its food. Yet, in our high-tech society, most humans have severed this connection, leading to catastrophic consequences.

While the wealth of food choices available to the affluent today is something previous generations could scarcely have imagined, and while individual labour can now produce more food than ever before, the large-scale commercial methods and systems underpinning these trends are destroying our planet, ravaging our health, and stripping us of our dignity. When it comes to food, the majority of the global population now relies for survival on a fragile system built upon monoculture, synthetic chemicals, biotechnology, and vast transport networks.

If we are to move towards a more harmonious way of living and develop greater resilience, we must actively engage. This means striving to become aware of the living beings around us and those that constitute our food—plants, animals, bacteria, and fungi—as well as the resources we depend upon, such as water, energy, materials, tools, and transport, and establishing a genuine connection with them. It also means taking responsibility for the mess we have left in our wake.

We can create a better world: better and more sustainable food choices, a clearer awareness of our resources, and communities founded on the principle of sharing. For a culture to be strong and resilient, skills, information, creativity, and values must flow freely within it. Culture cannot be reduced to a consumerist paradise or a mere spectacle for others to observe. Daily life constantly provides us with opportunities to take action; I urge you to seize them.

 

III.

Culture in the microbial world exists only as communities, and so it is with human culture.

In human culture, food is the greatest catalyst for creating these communities. We use food to invite people in and to bring families back together. It is used not only to welcome new neighbours and weary travellers but also to feast with beloved old friends. Food can bind an entire village together; after all, collective effort always outweighs individual struggle. Furthermore, the preparation of food often encourages specialisation among households, leading to the exchange of finished products.

Fermented foods (and fermented drinks in particular) play an especially vital role in fostering community cohesion, with a profound effect that surpasses that of ordinary food. Not only do numerous festivals, rituals, and celebrations revolve around fermented foods—such as bread and wine—but these foods are also among the oldest and most essential, adding value and stability to the crops that form the economic foundation of a local community. In any grain-based economy, the brewer and the baker are central figures. Wine transforms perishable grapes into a stable and coveted commodity; the same relationship exists between cheese and dairy.

Reclaiming our food means rebuilding our communities, fostering an understanding of the reciprocity of resources and land through economic mutual aid and the division of labour. The global transport of goods consumes vast resources and causes environmental catastrophe. While exotic delicacies can be an inspiring treat, it is not only inappropriate but destructive if our lives revolve entirely around imported food.

Most globalised foods originate from vast monocultures, established at the expense of forests and a diverse array of subsistence crops. When we rely entirely on the global trade system, we leave ourselves extremely vulnerable; the slightest shift can lead to collapse, whether through natural disasters (floods, earthquakes, typhoons), resource depletion (the oil crisis), or political volatility (war, terrorism, organised crime).

Fermentation can be at the heart of economic revival. The re-localisation of food means more than just reviving agriculture; it encompasses the traditional ways in which produce was transformed and preserved to become staples of the daily diet, such as bread, cheese, and beer.

By participating in agriculture and the production of other local foods, we create vital resources that help meet our basic daily needs. By supporting the revival of local food, we ensure that money which once flowed away returns to our own communities; here, it can circulate repeatedly, supporting production and creativity, and providing an incentive for people to learn essential skills.

At the same time, as the associated fuel consumption and pollution are reduced, we obtain fresher, healthier food. When our communities are able to provide more for themselves—thereby reclaiming our power and dignity—we also reduce our collective dependence on fragile global trade systems.

 

IV.

Cultural revival means economic revival. Wherever I go, I always encounter people who have chosen to take part in this cultural resurgence. Perhaps the fact that more and more young people are choosing to return to farming is the clearest example of this revival.

In the second half of the 20th century, the tradition of regional food self-sufficiency almost vanished in the US and many other countries. But today, these traditions are returning; let us, therefore, fully support this movement and become a part of it.

There are numerous reasons why productive local food systems are superior to globalised ones: they produce fresher, more nutritious food and boost local employment and productivity. Moreover, by reducing reliance on fuel and massive infrastructure, they minimise resource waste while enhancing food security.

We must forge closer connections between our food and the land, and there must be a willingness to undertake the labour-intensive work of farming. Such work should be valued and rewarded, and we should be ready to step forward and take part.

I do not want to give the impression that cultural revival is a brand-new concept. There have always been those who resisted new technologies: farmers who never turned to chemicals, those who tirelessly preserved heirloom seeds passed down through generations, those who opted for horses over tractors, or families who continued the practice of fermentation.

There are always those seeking to reconnect with tradition, or who refuse to accept the ‘conveniences’ of modern culture. Just as culture innovates in unexpected ways, it is also something that can be inherited and sustained, always with a traceable origin.

Of course, cultural revival is not about urging people to abandon city and suburban life to pursue a remote rural existence. We must create more harmonious ways of living where people and infrastructure already exist—that is, in our cities and suburbs. ‘Sustainability’ and ‘resilience’ should not be ideals achievable only in the far reaches of the countryside; instead, they must be embedded in a daily ethic of living, accessible to anyone, regardless of where they are.

Nearly twenty years ago, I moved from Manhattan, where I had lived for some time, to a self-sufficient rural community in Tennessee. I am glad I did. Sometimes, what you need is a dramatic shift. I was thirty at the time and had just tested positive for HIV, so I was looking for a complete transformation. By a stroke of luck, I found myself at a homestead in the woods, inhabited by a group of eccentric characters.

In my view, resettling in the countryside is worthwhile and deeply meaningful, but that does not mean it is inherently better or more sustainable than urban living. In fact, as most people know, rural life often necessitates constant driving (myself included), whereas many city dwellers do not own cars and rely primarily on public transport.

Cities are where people congregate, and many incredible stories of creativity and revolution have unfolded in urban and suburban areas. Urban farming and urban homesteading are increasingly popular, particularly in cities with vast stretches of derelict land. The revival of artisanal fermentation is also concentrated in cities, primarily because regardless of where the production takes place, cities are where the main market dynamics are held.

The great urbanist Jane Jacobs proposed an intriguing theory: that agricultural development expanded outwards from cities, rather than originating in remote rural regions.

In her book *The Economy of Cities*, Jacobs rejected the common assumption that ‘cities are built upon the foundation of a rural economy’, even deriding it as ‘agrarian dogma’. She argued that the inherent creativity of urban life is the true catalyst for (and constant innovator of) agricultural creativity:

“The spread of new grains and animals happened between cities… until now, the work of plant cultivation and animal husbandry has been work done only in cities.”

Her fundamental premise is that people from various regions congregate in trading hubs, creating a dynamic environment for both accidental cross-breeding and selective breeding of seeds, while offering greater opportunities for the specialisation of labour and the development and spread of technology.

If Jacobs’ theory holds true, then the practice of fermentation must also have emerged from the city. Rural residents may often be the custodians of heritage—such as seeds, culture, and technical expertise—but it is primarily city dwellers who drive agricultural change in the countryside by creating demand, for example, by establishing farmers’ markets and providing extensive support for Community Supported Agriculture (CSA).

City dwellers can tend their gardens and practice fermentation just as those in the countryside do. They can also immerse themselves in the deep currents of creativity and the inevitable cross-disciplinary exchanges inherent to urban life, thereby driving agricultural change. Such a transformation can integrate ancient wisdom facing the threat of erasure, just as it can spark innovation. Regardless, cultural revival cannot be achieved in isolation, nor does it arise solely from efforts in rural areas.

 

V.

Many 20th-century texts on fermentation claimed that production shifted from small-scale, community-based domestic work to factories, and that laboratory-improved strains—introduced under the banner of “improving hygiene, safety, nutrition, and efficiency”—replaced traditional starter cultures passed down through generations.

Clifford W. Hesseltine and Hua Li Wang of the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) Fermentation Laboratory stated in 1977:

“When we attempted to introduce Western beverages such as beer, cola, and other non-alcoholic drinks to the Bantu people, they refused. Therefore, we began investigating the production process of local village Bantu beer. Once we understood the local process and had isolated the yeasts and bacteria involved, we introduced industrialised fermentation processes and modern malting equipment. This Bantu beer, produced with modern fermentation equipment, was quickly accepted by the locals… and this product, manufactured under hygienic conditions, was consistent in quality and very affordable.”

For me, the notion that “hygienic, cheap, and consistent mass-produced goods are superior to traditional village products” completely ignores the importance of these practices to village culture and economy. Meanwhile, Paul Barker of South Africa wrote:

“Traditional fermentation and many other practices have declined within our African cultures. We must document the culture that belongs to us before we are swallowed up by KFC, Coca-Cola, and Levi’s jeans.”

The aim of this book is to encourage a revival of fermentation culture within our homes and communities, thereby reclaiming our food and its vast network of connections. We should not only ferment grapes, barley, and soybeans, but also acorns, turnips, sorghum, and all the food surpluses we have at hand.

While mass-produced, global monoculture fermented products are certainly wonderful, championing localism allows us to learn how to make the most of abundant surpluses, such as acorns, and crops that adapt and thrive with minimal human intervention, such as the turnips and radishes on farms in Tennessee.

This book introduces various fermented foods and the methods used to create them. The first three chapters provide a broad overview, covering the evolution of fermentation, its practical benefits, and fundamental operational concepts. The remaining chapters are largely organised by the type of fermented food (substrate) and whether the final product contains alcohol. The final few chapters offer insights for those wishing to turn their passion for fermentation into a business, as well as sharing applications of fermentation beyond the culinary realm. The book concludes with a manifesto for the fermentation revivalist.

Because this book focuses on the process of creation, I have moved away from the standard recipe format (with the exception of recipes provided by others, which I have included in boxes). My aim is to convey concepts with broad applicability rather than merely providing specific recipes. I have listed commonly used ratios, various alternative proportions and processing parameters, and occasionally suggestions for flavour pairings. I seek to explain what needs to be done in each fermentation process, and the reasoning behind it.

Fermentation is more dynamic and variable than cooking, as it is a collaborative effort between ourselves and other organisms. In this complex relationship, the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ are often more significant than the specific quantities or compositions of ingredients found in various recipes and traditions.

I want to help you grasp the ‘how’ and ‘why’ of fermentation. Once you have this understanding, you will find that recipes are everywhere, and you will be free to unleash your own creativity during your explorations.

– Shared Reading Programme –

– Reading Group Schedule –

November 2023

– First Discussion / Online –

Wednesday, 1 November, 19:00–20:30

WeChat Channels Live

Guest: Sun Shan

– Second Discussion / Online –

Wednesday, 8 November, 19:00–20:30

WeChat Channels Live

Guests: Xu Xijing, Lin Fengyang

– Third Discussion / Online –

Wednesday, 15 November, 19:00–20:30

WeChat Channels Live

Guest: Ma Junli

– Fourth Discussion / Online + In-person – 

Saturday, 25 November, 15:00–16:30

No. 86 Jianguo Road, Chaoyang District, Beijing

SKP-S 2F SKP RENDEZ-VOUS

Guests: shuyu, Jing Yan

All the above discussions can be booked and viewed via the Foodthink WeChat Channel.

How to Join the Reading Group

1.Publisher’s Official Online Store: Click here to purchase the book

2. For those attending the in-person event on 25 November, please ensure you select ‘In-person’ on the registration form. Spaces are limited and available on a first-come, first-served basis. Click ‘here‘ to register.

3.Watch the livestream: For those unable to attend in person, you can still interact with us via the WeChat Channel.

Special thanks to Lakeshore Culture for granting permission to reprint the full foreword.

Dear readers, we have some exciting news!

Wan Qing, a contributor to Foodthink, lives in the same city as Sandor Katz, the author of *The Art of Fermentation*. Wan Qing recently got in touch with Sandor and even had the chance to taste some of his fermented foods.

We will soon be asking Wan Qing to conduct a short interview with Sandor.

If you have read *The Art of Fermentation* or are passionate about fermented foods, we invite you to leave a comment below with the questions you would most like to ask Sandor. We will collect and curate these questions for Wan Qing to translate and present to him for his answers.

Poster: Wan Lin