Fermentation in ceramic vessels
Sara Vande Velde is a baker, researcher and illustrator, who has previously illustrated our work. We are thrilled she now joins our online platform as a guest contributor. This essay results from some questions she has been wrestling with in her own practice for some time, and which we now explore together.
Table of Contents
Illustration: A microbial landscape. Created by Sara Vande Velde.
I took my education at an agricultural university, and since then have been working with grains and flour as a baker. Through these practices, I’ve developed a strong interest in soil and more-than-human life. Gut health was then the main topic of my MSc thesis, and later on I worked in a more tangible manner with microbes, developing, producing and cooking with fermented foods. Because of these experiences, I see all the beneficial things microbial life can bring us, from healthy soil to safe and delicious food and drinks, personal health and food culture.
Ceramics is another creative outlet of mine. It comes from a need to connect with the earth and create things with my hands. It is also a way to explore other cultures. Having a Mexican partner, I developed a particular interest in Mexican pre-Columbian ceramics. In some regions of Mexico, local crafts have been preserved for centuries. There is still a locality to the clay they use and the pottery they produce. Ceramic objects are still in the centre of Mexican kitchens, like the comal de barro, a large earthenware disc that is seasoned with calcium hydroxide before use. It is put on an open fire and used to cook tortillas.
Food fermentation and clay go hand in hand. Already, the earliest pottery had a culinary role for processing foods.¹ It’s been proposed that the early uses of pottery, fermentation and the accumulation of storable surpluses are interrelated technologies that emerged in early sedentary or semi-sedentary societies during the Late Pleistocene and start of the Holocene.² So, fermentation and ceramics are interconnected, and together, they go way back.
Ceramics and bread are also both products of the soil. Grains and clay both have to be harvested, cleaned, processed, and shaped by hand. They are carriers of microbial life and are changed by water. Both require baking, and their production requires specialised knowledge and attention. There is something elemental about their making, and both creations come with a feeling of fulfilment for the maker and the user.
These ideas fed into my illustration for this essay. It was inspired by the art of Indigenous peoples of Australia, who have for millennia conceptualised their ancestral landscapes, knowledges, and relationships through painting.³ Fauna and flora are visualised to inform future generations on where to find food. Animals are represented by the tracks they leave. Here, I am trying to imagine a microbial landscape, like the one you would encounter in a fermentation vessel.⁴ Entangled lines represent mycelium. Concentric circles budding yeasts, spiral swirls and dotted lines the movements of bacteria. Bacteria with different flagella are also represented. The colours chosen represent the natural colours of clay. Patterns and vessels are overlapping, reflecting the interconnectedness of factors that make up the microbial landscape and the continuity of microbial dynamics. The vessel forms are based on historical ceramics with Indigenous designs from Mexico.
With this essay, I wanted to more directly explore these interconnected interests in fermentation and ceramics, starting from the ever-present microbial life they carry, and looking deeper into the science and history of these connections, to see what we can learn for continuing to practice them together into the future.
i. Why ferment in ceramic vessels?
As traditional fermentation techniques have been popularised by modern gastronomy and adopted and applied in new, local contexts, they have given rise to many new flavours and novel products.⁵
Today, most fermentation takes place in impermeable, ostensibly more food-safe containers made of glass or plastic. There are perfectly reasonable explanations for using these materials: they are cheaper, more widely available, and more easily adhere to health and safety regulations since they are easier to clean—and especially in the case of plastic, lighter and more space-efficient. Because of this preference, today, most fermenters create a blank canvas at the beginning of each new ferment, killing all microbial life through disinfection, sterilisation and/or pasteurisation to ensure food safety. This approach to preparing vessels for fermentation is what Jamie Lorimer describes as an ‘antibiotic’ approach to managing life.⁶ It makes sense in a modern gastronomic context, which often prioritises consistency, reducing costs and optimising time and space.
Yet many traditional fermented foods, almost worldwide, were originally fermented in ceramic vessels. Wine has been fermented since ancient times across Eurasia in amphorae, whilst doenjang and kimchi were traditionally fermented in ceramic vessels called onggi in Korea. Sauerkraut in Central and Eastern Europe, fish sauce in Southeast Asia, yoghurt from the Middle East, nukazuke in Japan, injera in Ethiopia and alcoholic beverages like chica and pulque in Latin America are among other such examples.
These traditional practices using ceramics take a different approach to preparing fermentation vessels compared to the ‘antibiotic’ approach often favoured today. Lorimer calls this alternative approach ‘probiotic’, based on the principle of ‘using life to manage life’, or coexistence rather than control.⁷ Rather than eliminating all bacteria through chemical or thermal disinfection, the porous nature of ceramic vessels creates conditions that regulate contamination through microbial competition. These traditional methods inhibit unwanted microbes not through elimination but through cultivating desirable and beneficial microbial communities to outcompete them, shaping microbial ecology to benefit the taste, texture, and safety of fermented foods.
Let’s take kimchi as an example. Traditionally, kimchi is made in clay vessels called onggi. Onggi are typically coated with a mixture of wood ash and clay, which is similar in composition to the clay body. These unglazed ceramic pots are permeable, unlike glass and some types of plastic. The porous structure of the onggi mimics the loose soil where lactic acid bacteria (LAB) are naturally found, and helps the onggi to ‘exhale’ carbon dioxide, lowering internal levels to those favoured by LAB, and facilitating their growth.⁸ Unglazed pots have also been found to contain greater numbers of beneficial microbes like Lactobacillus brevis when fermenting kimchi.⁹ The positive pressure inside the onggi and the constant outflow through its walls act as a safety valve for bacterial growth by blocking entry of external contaminants, without requiring additional mechanical components.¹⁰
Furthermore, ceramic fermentation vessels can absorb beneficial microbes and/or enzymes after serial fermentation (when the same type of product is repeatedly fermented in the same vessel) and serve as an extra source of microbes for future fermentations. Since the surface of ceramic vessels is porous, microbes colonise and live within the surface, persisting even after cleaning. These beneficial microbes help steer the microbial ecology of the fermenting food towards desired states and attain consistent quality—a fine example of how a ‘probiotic’ approach can positively impact fermented foods.¹¹
Research into the fermentation and maturation of soy sauce in onggi, for example, shows that after fermentation, the microbial cells and/or enzymes immobilised in the micropores of the onggi’s surface contribute to accelerating hydrolytic reactions of starch and protein in later fermentations. Because some pores are larger than cells and enzymes, they can be absorbed into the wall structure of the container.¹²
Research on other porous materials, like the wooden casks used in the spontaneous fermentation of lambic beer, shows how they, too, can serve as an additional source of microbial life. Microbes that survive the cleaning process can help to inoculate the fermenting liquid of a new batch by providing microbes for spontaneous fermentation in addition to those from the ingredients, the brewing equipment and the brewery environment, establishing a stable community in the wort, diminishing batch-to-batch variations in fermentation profiles, and out-competing undesirable microorganisms.¹³ This surface-driven community structuring is a common phenomenon in, for example, wineries and artisan cheesemaking plants, and though there is less published material on this for ceramics, it is likely true for them too.¹⁴
Nowadays, in restaurants, ceramics are valued as decorative elements, crockery, and even sometimes cookware. But, based on how their functional properties shape microbial life, I think their potential for novel fermentations is greatly overlooked. What might be lost by eschewing these traditional ceramic vessels, and what role could they play in fermentation innovation if they were embraced and explored to the same extent as traditional recipes?
ii. Which factors shape the microbial ecology of foods fermented in ceramic vessels?
A clay pot is not just a clay pot.
The characteristics of individual ceramic vessels, like what type of clay they are made out of, their shape, and where they are stored, along with the maker's hands, the tools they use and the rituals they practice, can all influence the microbial ecology of foods fermenting within the vessels.
I illustrate these influences with examples from the scientific literature and further hypotheses that can be drawn from them, predominantly referring to research on onggi since they appear to be among the better-studied ceramic fermentation vessels. This area is otherwise relatively little studied, and I’d like to see (and hopefully eventually contribute to) much more scholarship in this area.
a. Manufacturing process, materials & shape
Onggi vary regionally in their manufacturing method, shape, and size since the properties of the soil, the clay derived from it, climatic conditions and food culture are also different between each region of Korea.¹⁵ This makes them an ideal subject for revealing how these differences can influence the qualities of the same fermented product.
How ceramic vessels are made is important, as this affects their permeability, which, as we’ve seen, is a characteristic that could aid ‘probiotic’ fermentation. Since artisanal onggi are often fired at lower temperatures and made of clay with more varied particle sizes and many larger particles (>150μm), open pores are formed during firing, enabling gas or liquid to permeate through the finished vessel walls.¹⁶ In comparison, ceramics made in hotter industrial ovens tend to have more compacted material, with smaller pores, and lower permeability, so gas and liquid are less able to permeate through the finished vessel walls.¹⁷
Earthenware (ceramics fired at lower temperatures, like onggi) retains its open porosity after firing, so gas and liquid can permeate through the pores, providing optimum conditions for the fermentation and ageing of foods such as kimchi, soy sauce, soybean paste, and vinegar, which utilises the growth of aerobic bacteria in the early stage of the fermentation process.¹⁸
The properties of clay vary by region, meaning that fermentation vessels made from clays from different regions may impact microbial communities of fermented foods differently, potentially adding an exciting further element of bioregionality to fermented foods made in these vessels beyond the ingredients. It would be fascinating to investigate how the same types of foods might vary if fermented in vessels made from regionally distinct clays.
Research on regionally distinct forms of onggi from across Korea, for example, has investigated how different clays affect soy sauce fermentation and aging.¹⁹ Soy sauce fermented in onggi is in direct contact with the internal clay surface, thereby resulting in the leaching of ions from the clay body due to its pore characteristics.²⁰
The permeability of clay also influences the flavour of foods fermented within ceramic vessels. Soy sauce fermented in onggi exhibits increased protease activity and, consequently, more glutamic acid, as a result of the higher growth of fermentation-related microorganisms due to the container surface’s greater permeability. This mechanism gives soy sauce a more pronounced umami flavour compared to one fermented in less permeable glass, plastic, and stainless steel containers.²¹ Clay properties that vary regionally, like metal oxide composition, impact ceramic vessel permeability. Metal oxides coat clay particles and fill their pores, affecting their permeability, which could invite different microbes to thrive on the vessel’s internal surface, potentially affecting fermentation and flavour.²²
The shape of onggi typically correlates with the sunlight and temperature of the region of Korea where they are made. In areas with low levels of sunlight and temperature, the opening or mouth of the container is enlarged for sufficient exposure to UV rays during the fermentation and/or ageing period of foods. The same research showed that during fermentation, the antioxidant content of soy sauces is higher in onggi with a smaller diameter-to-height ratio—that is, soy sauce fermented in squatter, wider onggi contained more antioxidants than soy sauce fermented in taller, narrower onggi. The greater surface area of the fermenting liquid means that more heat is transferred to the soy sauce (everything else being equal), promoting antioxidant production.²³
b. Place & environment
The ambient environment in which a fermented product is prepared and matured, and the tools and equipment used in that process, can all serve as sources of adventitious microbes.
This knowledge is scientifically well-established for cheese, beer and wine fermentation due to their popularity in Western food cultures. Though these products are not typically fermented in ceramic vessels today, plentiful research shows that there is a microbial exchange between the processing environment and fermenting food.²⁴ The microbial environment influences the fermentation activity, and the fermenting organisms in turn cohabit the work space. It is a give-and-take, like the microbes in a sourdough starter. They’re influenced by the baker’s hands, but the microbial population on the baker's hands is simultaneously influenced by the sourdough starter.²⁵
Research on sake fermentation suggests that the brewery environment acts as a source of adventitious microbiota, as microbes originating from this environment are detected in the sake.²⁶ Fermentation-associated microbes dominated most surfaces in the sake brewery, indicating that the establishment of these organisms on processing surfaces may play an important role in microbial transfer, beneficially directing the course of sequential fermentations.²⁷ Similar evidence has been found for washed-rind cheeses; the microbial ecologies of these cheeses are heavily influenced by the processing environment.²⁸ This was even the case for inoculated cheeses. The diversification of the microbial populations within the production space implies that microbes adapt themselves to specific processing environments, thereby influencing the cheeses‘ microbiotas in specific ways.
The porous nature of ceramic vessels described earlier likely means that they are particularly ripe for microbial exchange between the tools, the maker's hands, the production space, the vessels themselves, and the fermented foods within them. This means that ceramic vessels can aid a probiotic approach to fermentation when sufficient care is taken.
c. Time & seasons
Seasonality affects the availability and freshness of many ingredients—something we were much more in tune with in the past and perhaps something we should reorient towards once again. Freshly harvested fruits and vegetables have livelier microbiomes that are better suited to fermentation since, after harvest and entering the cold chain, their microbiomes change drastically, with an increase of bacteria related to spoilage.²⁹ Some fermentation techniques may have developed, at least partially, in response to dealing with gluts of fresh produce.³⁰
Seasonal changes in temperature and other climatic conditions can profoundly affect fermentations. In some cases, traditional fermentation sought to avoid seasonal changes, taking place in ceramics buried in the soil or stored underground to provide more stable temperatures than above ground. This is how wine was traditionally fermented in Georgia, by burying amphorae, known locally as qvevri, in the ground. The same can be said for the fermentation of tepache in certain areas in Mexico, whilst in Europe, sauerkraut is often stored basements, where temperatures are cooler and more stable.
In other cases, fermented foods were stored and fermented outdoors in ceramic vessels, and so were much more influenced by the seasons. Jangs (Korean amino sauces), for example, were traditionally fermented outside in onggi and often still are when artisanally made. Aging jangs can take years, during which the vessels are continuously exposed to external conditions. The rise and fall of temperatures allow certain microbes to take the stage and outcompete others. The surface populations of bacteria and fungi have been observed to fluctuate seasonally, as in wineries.³¹ In this way, seasonality affects fermentation speed, what microbes are present in different stages of the process, and the production of flavour compounds.
The fermentation of light-flavour baijiu, a distilled Chinese liquor, is traditionally carried out in earthenware jars. Production of light-flavour baijiu takes place year-round, except for a break in July and August. The ester content and acidity of the baijiu produced after this summer break is significantly lower compared to that produced in other times of the year. A lower presence of ester-promoting Lactobacillus acetotolerans, in the air and on the surface of the jars, might be responsible for these observed seasonal differences.³²
These are living examples of how soil and clay can both, in different circumstances, either provide stable conditions for fermentation or work with seasonal fluctuations to yield different products at different times of the year. Today, most restaurants and home producers prefer the former (albeit using climate-controlled spaces), rendering seasonality largely irrelevant. Fermenters tend not to ferment food outdoors, and indeed, doing so can be greeted with a certain suspicion and fear. This is mostly because the knowledge of seasonality and the skill to make use of natural conditions have been lost.³³ Though there are plenty of good reasons to use climate-controlled spaces for fermentation, not least to produce consistent products year-round, I wonder what might be lost by only taking this approach.
d. Rituals & care
It’s not just physical or environmental factors that matter for fermentation in ceramic vessels. It’s also about our relationships with the living microbial community inside them. The ongoing thriving of these microbial communities requires care, attention, upkeep and regular engagement from people. The requirement for consistent practice might be one reason why ceramic fermentation vessels may have fallen out of favour, as it is something that modern industrial practices often disrupt.
Establishing rituals is one way to ensure that practice takes place. Rituals are sequences of activities involving gestures, words, actions, or revered objects.³⁴ They can manifest on different levels. An individual preparing their morning coffee is practising a ritual. A family or community coming together to prepare food communally, as with Kimjang (communal kimchi-making) in Korea, is also a ritual that is steeped in tradition.³⁵
One place where personal and collective rituals shape fermentation is Terada Honke, a natural sake brewery in Japan. Brewers there use verbal, physical, and sensory practices to stay in sync with one another and with the microbial life that drives fermentation.³⁶ They rely on rhythmic movements, communal exercises, and call-and-response chants to improve efficiency, strengthen social bonds and deepen awareness of their surroundings. Work songs, for example, help workers stay coordinated whilst marking the passage of time.³⁷ The brewers develop a deep sensory awareness, or ‘attunement’, of the fermentation process, learning to read subtle signs like the temperature of the rice or the sounds and smells of fermentation to respond in ways that support microbial flourishing.³⁸
This kind of attunement is a form of communication between humans and microbes that is difficult to quantify. Much of the knowledge behind traditional fermentation isn’t written down but is instead learned through hands-on experience, storytelling, and observation. Embodied knowledge is passed from person to person through movement and shared practices. By paying attention to these small signals, they create an environment where all participants—both human and microbial—can thrive.³⁹
At the same time, it’s important not to over-romanticise or fetishise rituals as valuable for their own sake. Though they can play an important role in preserving fermentation knowledge and practice, they don’t necessarily contribute to probiotic modes of living and fermenting—much like how fermentation doesn’t possess an essential politics.⁴⁰ For example, corporate megabreweries also follow fermentation rituals, though their approach is driven by efficiency and consistency rather than tradition or sensory engagement.
That being said, might we learn from places like Terada Honke to develop new rituals and practices to guide a more ‘probiotic’ approach to fermentation within ceramic vessels and beyond?
iii. An ‘old-new’ frontier for novel fermentations?
This early body of research offers a glimpse into how the characteristics of ceramic fermentation vessels, their environment, and the rituals associated with their care can all influence the microbial ecologies of food fermented within them. There’s so much more to learn, and we hope to continue exploring this topic in future.
As Sara acknowledged earlier, there are plenty of good reasons why using sterilised glass or plastic vessels in a climate-controlled environment makes sense in the culinary world. This is unlikely to change, nor are we necessarily arguing that it should. However, we’re curious what we might stand to gain if more fermenters began exploring the use of ceramic vessels as well as more currently conventional materials, and experimented with some of the factors we’ve discussed here. We wonder:
How might the properties of different ceramic fermentation vessels—like regional clays, shapes, and manufacturing methods—impact the microbial ecology and flavours of fermented foods?
How could we test this empirically?
How could fermenters take a more ‘probiotic’ approach to preparing and managing fermentation vessels, ceramics or otherwise?
How might research into this area help further define the term ‘microbial terroir’?
What might modern fermentation rituals look like?
How can we reintroduce rituals that connect us with nature and help us cultivate fermentation ecologies for mutual flourishing?
Perhaps the resurrection and reinterpretation of such practices could open up a new paradigm in fermentation innovation, offering another route to exploring food-cultural heritage and applying these ‘old-new’ techniques to new ingredients and combinations in the never-ending quest for new, diverse flavours.⁴¹
Contributions & acknowledgements
Sara researched and wrote the first draft of this essay. Eliot and Josh contributed editorial feedback, and they continued to shape the essay together with Sara. Sara created the header image.
Endnotes
[1] Oliver Craig (2021), ‘Prehistoric Fermentation, Delayed-Return Economies, and the Adoption of Pottery Technology’, Current Anthropology.
[2] Ibid.
[3] For example, Warlukurlangu Artists.
[4] Josh Evans (2018) ‘Microbial Landscapes’. In: Proceedings of the Oxford Symposium on Food and Cookery 2017, Prospect Books: Sheffield, UK.
[5] Josh Evans (2022), ‘Taste Shaping Natures: a Multiplied Ethnography of Translated Fermentation in the New/er Nordic Cuisine’, Oxford University Research Archive.; Dillon Arrigan, Caroline Kothe, Angela Oliverio, Jash Evans and Ben Wolfe (2024), ‘Novel fermentations integrate traditional practice and rational design of fermented-food microbiomes’, Current Biology.; Emile Samson, Taeko Hamada, Clara Onieva Martín, Nabila Rodgríguez Valéron, Carlos Suárez, Sara Vande Velde, Anna Verlinde and Josh Evans (2025), ‘Old Foods, New Forms: A framework for conceptualising the diversification of traditional products through gastronomic innovation’, SSRN.
[6] Jamie Lorimer (2020) The Probiotic Planet. University of Minnesota Press. Important to note here is that I am not suggesting that modern fermentation always takes an ‘antibiotic’ approach to all fermentation practices in every sense, but rather that this is the main approach to preparing vessels for fermentation specifically.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Kook-Il Han, Mi-Jung Kim, Hyun-Jung Kwon, Yong Hyun Kim, Wan-Jong Kim and Man-Deuk Han (2013), ‘The effect of container types on the growth of bacteria during kimchi fermentation’, The Korean Journal of Food And Nutrition.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Soohwan Kim and David Hu (2023), ‘Onggi’s permeability to carbon dioxide accelerates kimchi fermentation’, Journal of the Royal Society Interface.
[11] Gyeong-Hee Seo, Jung-Hyun Yun, Sun-Kyung Chung, Woo-Po Park, Dong-Sun Lee (2006), ‘Physical properties of Korean earthenware containers affected by soy sauce fermentation use’, Food Sci. Biotechnol.
[12] Ibid.
[13] Jonas De Roos, David Van Der Veken, Luc De Vuyst (2019), ‘The interior surfaces of wooden barrels are an additional microbial inoculation source for lambic beer production’, Applied Environmental Microbiology.
[14] Nicholas Bokulich, Moe Ohta, Paul Richardson and David Mills (2013), ‘Monitoring Seasonal Changes in Winery-Resident Microbiota’, PLoS One.; Nicholas Bokulich and David Mills (2013) ‘Facility-Specific “House” Microbiome Drives Microbial Landscapes of Artisan Cheesemaking Plants’, Applied Environmental Microbiology.; Jonas De Roos, David Van Der Veken, Luc De Vuyst (2018), ‘The interior surfaces of wooden barrels are an additional microbial inoculation source for lambic beer production’, Applied Environmental Microbiology.
[15] Youngsook Park and Roderick Whitfield (2003), Handbook of Korean Art: Earthenware and Celadon, Laurence King Publishing; Jae-Ho Kim (2015), ‘Techniques and Traditional Knowledge of the Korean Onggi Potter’, Korean Journal of Cultural Heritage Studies.; Sunhwa Rha (2006) Korean Traditional Crafts, Earthenware, Ewha Woman’s University Press.
[16] Junghoon Choi, Soomin Kim, Kyusung Han, Ungsoo Kim and Misook Kim (2021), ‘Role of earthenware in food processing applications’, Journal of Ceramic Processing Research.
[17] Gyeong-Hee Seo, Jung-Hyun Yun, Sun-Kyung Chung, Woo-Po Park, Dong-Sun Lee (2006), ‘Physical properties of Korean earthenware containers affected by soy sauce fermentation use’, Food Science Biotechnology.
[18] Junghoon Choi, Soomin Kim, Kyusung Han, Ungsoo Kim and Misook Kim (2021), ‘Role of earthenware in food processing applications’, Journal of Ceramic Processing Research.
[19] Ibid.
[20] Ibid.
[21] Neeraj Kumari and Chandra Mohan (2021), ‘Basics of clay minerals and their characteristic properties’, In: Gustavo Morari Do Nascimentio (ed) ‘Clay and Clay Minerals’, IntechOpen: London, UK.
[22] Neeraj Kumari and Chandra Mohan (2021), ‘Basics of clay minerals and their characteristic properties’, In: Gustavo Morari Do Nascimentio (ed) ‘Clay and Clay Minerals’, IntechOpen: London, UK.
[23] Ibid.
[24] Nicholas Bokulich, Moe Ohta, Paul Richardson and David Mills (2013), ‘Monitoring Seasonal Changes in Winery-Resident Microbiota’, PLoS One.; Nicholas Bokulich and David Mills (2013) ‘Facility-Specific “House” Microbiome Drives Microbial Landscapes of Artisan Cheesemaking Plants’, Applied Environmental Microbiology.; Jonas De Roos, David Van Der Veken, Luc De Vuyst (2018), ‘The interior surfaces of wooden barrels are an additional microbial inoculation source for lambic beer production’, Applied Environmental Microbiology
[25] The Global Sourdough Project, Rob Dunn Lab.
[26] Nicholas Bokulich, Moe Ohta, Morgan Lee and David Mills (2014), ‘Indigenous bacteria and fungi drive traditional kimoto sake fermentations’, Applied Environmental Microbiology.
[27] Ibid.
[28] Nicholas Bokulich and David Mills (2013) ‘Facility-Specific “House” Microbiome Drives Microbial Landscapes of Artisan Cheesemaking Plants’, Applied Environmental Microbiology.
[29] Anna Karin Rosberg, Julia Darlison, Lars Mogren, Beatrix Waechter Alsanius (2021), ‘Commercial wash of leafy vegetables do not significantly decrease bacterial load but leads to shifts in bacterial species composition’, Food Microbiology.
[30] Rob Dunn and Monica Sanchez (2021), Delicious: the evolution of flavour and how it made us human, Princeton University Press: New Jersey, USA:
[31] Nicholas Bokulich, Mooe Ohta, Paul Richardson, David Mills (2013b), ‘Monitoring seasonal changes in winery-resident microbiota’, PLoS One.
[32] Xaio-Na Pang, Bei-Zhong Han, Xiao-Ning Huang, Xin Zhang, Lin-Fen Hou, Ming Cao, Li-Juan Gao, Guang-Hi Hu and Jing Yu-Chen (2018), ‘Effect of the environment microbiota on the flavour of light-flavour Baijiu during spontaneous fermentation’, Scientific Reports.
[33] William Cronon (1996), ‘The Trouble with Wilderness: Or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature’, Environmental History.
[34] Victor Turner (1973), ‘Symbols in African Ritual’, Science.
[35] Reggie Surya and Anne Ga-Yeon Lee (2022), ‘Exploring the philosophical values of kimchi and kimjang culture’, Journal of Ethnic Foods
[36] Maya Hey (2021), ‘Attunement and multispecies communication in fermentation’, Feminist Philosophy Quarterly.
[37] Ibid.
[38] Ibid.
[39] Ibid.
[40] Josh Evans and Jamie Lorimer (2023), ‘Fermentation Fetishism and the Emergence of a Political Zymology’, SSRN.
[41] Credit goes to Kim for the ‘old-new’ epithet, which we think succinctly captures the essence of innovation attuned to food-cultural history.
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