I wrote this back in April, and recently returned to it after getting very bored of reading drab aspirational-lifestyle articles about fermentation as a trendy food aesthetic. For me, the slow process is about waste reduction, interspecies co-operation, and sustenance sovereignty. It’s accompanied by some wonderful photos taken by my dear friend Renata Minoldo of my first ever public workshop in January 2018. I’m demonstrating to members from alternative art schools School of the Damned and TOMA, at Chalkwell Hall in Southend, and I’m really grateful to still be connected with many of those who participated.
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Now more than ever, your immune system needs extra reinforcements. As well as regular exercise and stringent cleanliness, we can also build good gut health to help fight off illness by introducing new foods into our sphere to diversify our diet. Ancient recipes for fermenting vegetables have changed very little over history, and for good reason: simple practical steps, fascinating chemical transformations and no fancy equipment needed makes for an easy, engaging and cheap hobby with exponential benefits.
Fermentation for me is a perfect antidote to the increasing dissociation with food I have felt over the past decade, including but not limited to; strictly cartoon produce on shelves; supermarket monopoly and criminal wastage; expensive and elitist wholefoods; racial / class oppression of food workers; capitalist realism of importing food that we are better at growing; plastic plastic plastic; blind loyalty to faceless conglomerates; unsustainable aggressive agribusiness; and accelerationist commodification (phew).
Here within lies a labyrinth of glorious stories, ingenious ingredients and deep thinking time. Once you get the basics – acquiring raw materials, practical processes, noticing and recording changes – you will be catapulted into a new, never-ending realm of flavour and Fermental Health.
Classic sauerkraut
A good starting point for a foray in fermenting processes; the physicality and sensory experience encapsulate how we can view this recipe as a historical collaboration between your body, a plant and microbe colonies.
Realistically you could learn how to do this in under ten minutes, and sometimes that’s all you will have, so I’ve attached quick instructions / refreshers at the bottom. Normally I’ll drag this process out, pushing back plans or blocking of up to an hour of my day to have a proper break from thinking and just spend some time in silence using my hands. Below is a standard recipe which will take 30 minutes tops from getting your kit out to cleaning down afterwards.
Materials:
1 med-large white round cabbage (organic where possible)
Fine or flaked sea salt (rock salt can be crushed)
Jar of at least 500ml
Firstly wash your hands and the cabbage before removing the two or three outermost leaves which successfully did their job protecting and transporting the heart. They’re likely to be a bit beaten and have very little nutritional value but will serve us well later so don’t discard. Cut off the base too, no more than 1cm thickness, and save with leaves.
Weigh the cabbage if you have scales (most medium cabbages tend to be between 0.8-1.2kg) and make a note if you need to. With a large knife and steady hand cut the cabbage through the core in half top-to-bottom and then into quarters. With one flat side on your chopping board and the other facing your knife-wielding hand, begin to slowly and finely shred the cabbage into thin ribbons (if you have a mandolin this will come in handy). You can chop any large pieces including the core at the end. Mind your fingers.
Once totally shredded, put all the strips in a large bowl rested on top of a damp, folded tea towel and add 3% salt for the total weight of your cabbage: for 1kg this is 30g. Roll up your sleeves and scrunch the cabbage slivers and salt vigorously, flipping over the pile to incorporate, occasionally scooping down the sides of the bowl. The satisfying squeak will become a crunch, with the salt both physically ripping apart cell walls and drawing the natural water reserve out.
Continue massaging for five minutes then rest your arms, have a drink and wipe down your surface. Once you come back to it, you’ll notice it’s easier and wetter. If you grab a double handful to squeeze above the bowl, it will drip with liquid: you have made a brine! Let the poor brassica have a quick breather and prepare your jar; kilner clip-top is good, any large screw-top pickle jar also works, and the wider the neck the better as it will make the packing easier. Wash in warm soapy water, rinse and dry with a towel.
Begin to load your kraut into the jar using your hands or a tablespoon if you’re precious. You want to build up in layers to ensure even coverage so every time you add another bit, press down firmly with a hand/spoon, rotating the jar between impacts. Primarily we are expunging oxygen and eliminating the potential for mould / putrefaction, so do it thoroughly. Continue until you get an inch from the top of the jar, on just under the neck as your ferment will need space to expand and release more trapped water.
Fold your outer leaves in half twice and push the organic pocket-squares down on top (one or two will do) and these will help create a barrier between your kraut and oxygen. They cling to the glass better than any hi-tech tool. Trim the butt into a disc the same diameter as your jar lid and lay it atop the leaves. Holding the jar firmly, apply even downward pressure on the contents until you’re happy everything is submerged. Add a dash more brine if necessary – stir a 1/2 teaspoon of salt into a cup of water.
Flip / screw the lid on lightly and keep somewhere shady in your kitchen on a plate to catch overflow. Label your creation with a date and some details.
Aftercare
For the first two days, not much will happen unless it’s well warm in your house. By the third day you should start noticing tiny bubbles and a funky smell – congratulations you did a fermenting! “Burp” your jar (crack the lid very quickly) to release the oxygen sitting up in the roof, and continue to do this at least twice a day for the next five days. If you find your solids rising above the brine, use hands or the back of a spoon to press back down beneath.
Once a week has passed, open the lid, have a good whiff and remove your makeshift weights. Celebrate by tasting a sample of your batch, perhaps decant a little into a ramekin or smaller jar, then compress everything again and replace leaves & butt. The taste is probably salty and pokey, with the texture likely to still be fairly crunchy and intact. Time is the key ingredient in the maturation process, flavour and structure will develop daily and the final outcome can be as young and fresh or old and complex as you like.
For your first batch, I recommend tasting once a week up to a month, removing a portion and transferring it to the fridge to eat over the course of the next stretch. Make notes on your impressions, and start using it in recipes, as a side, or a sandwich filling.
No frills recipe
Remove outer leaves and butt.
Quarter and shred.
Medium cabbages weigh 0.8-1.2kg, so add three level tbsp of fine sea salt.
Massage until dripping.
Pack tightly into jar in stages, expel air pockets.
Leave one inch below lid for expansion.
Weigh down with outer leaves and butt.
Only just screw lid shut, burp twice daily.
Leave on counter on plate.
After two weeks taste, make notes.
Next time try it like this:
Pink kraut
Try half red and half white cabbage for this neon batch
Savoury one
Add cumin, coriander & mustard seeds, chopped garlic, fresh chilli and peppercorns after massage
Sweet winter spiced
Add star anise, fennel seeds, grated ginger, shredded apple, juniper berries or chopped raisins after massage
Fermented piccalilli
Add shredded roots like carrot, onion or radish, and brassica like chopped cauliflower florets or kale stems into your main batch and remember to add 3% salt of total weight. After the massage, combine with fresh turmeric & ginger root, chopped chilis and garlic, and curry spices like nigella seeds, fenugreek, ground cumin, chopped fresh coriander
Wild green kraut
Add washed and chopped local food (dandelions, wild garlic, burdock root, dead nettle, cleavers, hawthorn leaves, wild rocket, London lettuce or any other mustard) to a regular cabbage, with appropriate salt for total weight.