Canadian Chefs Briana Kim and David Zilber on the Rise of Fermentation
We chat with two leading Canadian chefs and food scientists about the culture, chemistry and magic of fermentation, and why the world’s top restaurants are turning into food labs.
Behind every jar of pickles or vat of fish sauce, an invisible brigade of yeast, bacteria or fungi micro-organisms is hard at work, transforming taste and texture in a process known as fermentation. Thanks to modern science, we know how it works at the molecular level, but generations have long understood the why: Fermentation preserves food, unlocks nutrients, aids digestion – and adds that flavoursome funk we love. If our bout of sourdough fever and the mainstream popularity of natural wine, miso, kimchi and other ferments are any indication, we would say we’re firmly in our fermentation era – and that it might just be here for good. The movement is taking hold of restaurants, too, with institutions like Noma in Copenhagen and El Bulli in Spain reopening as food labs. We caught up with chef and food scientist David Zilber, the Toronto native who co-wrote The Noma Guide to Fermentation, and Briana Kim, the acclaimed Ottawa-based chef behind Café My House, Alice and a soon-to-open chef’s counter and fermentation lab, Antheia, to see what the future of ferments is brewing up.
enRoute What was the first moment that piqued your curiosity
in fermentation?
Briana Kim I was born in Korea, but my family moved to Canada when I was young. I have early childhood memories of all the clay pots that my grandma stored in her garden, and my mom stored on her balcony. They would grab things like kimchi and jangs (fermented sauces) from these magical clay pots. I have visceral memories of the pungent smells of fermented fish and sauce.
When I started cooking, I had this notion that French techniques and flavours were the way to establish yourself in fine dining. Through fermentation, I reconnected with my culture and appreciated it a lot more. When I started cooking professionally, I turned to fermenting to make winter menus more interesting. Then memories of my childhood came flooding back in a strong way. I was testing something in my kitchen, and suddenly it hit me: “This resembles ganjang, a flavour that my grandma fed me.”
David Zilber My apocryphal superhero origin story is me as a seven-year-old, watching Transformers and eating Cheerios in a bowl with milk. I left my unfinished breakfast on the counter as I rushed out for school with my backpack. When I came home, my mom was angry that I hadn’t cleaned up after myself. As I went to do so, I realized that the milk had congealed. I was like, “What is going on?” And my mom said, “You made yogurt!”
It exemplified the idea that boundaries are a blurry thing. Nothing in the universe can ever be truly isolated. The microbes that had congealed the milk had travelled there from the spoon to my mouth, and from my mouth back to the bowl. Microbes are not too discerning about the fictional borders we draw between where we end and where food begins.
ER How has fermentation changed your practice as a chef?
DZ When I reach for flavours in my cooking, it’s almost like that knowledge of microbial biology or organic chemistry bleeds in at an intuitive level. If there’s a gap in the spectrum of flavours, I know exactly what to reach for. It can be something as sacrilegious as making a Bolognese and then reaching for Filipino fermented shrimp paste and putting in just a knife tip. If any Italian saw me doing that, they would be like, “What are you doing?” But if I don’t have any culatello on hand, I know I do have this other ingredient to make my tomato sauce really shine.
BK I think I discovered a different sense of time, because the deep dive into fermentation requires research and development. Practising fermentation throughout the year makes you allocate time in a completely different way than a traditional restaurant would. Sometimes projects can take months to years. The summer is a very active production period when I focus on preserving as much as I can. Winters are dedicated to planning, preparing for the growing season to come and the menu for the entire year. It allows me to have a blueprint for the following year.
ER Fermentation has been a staple in the cuisines of many cultures for thousands of years, but its prominence in Western fine dining is a more recent development. To what do you attribute this shift?
BK The Noma Guide to Fermentation has had an undeniable impact on fine dining. Over the last five years, so many of the resumés I receive boast about the fact that they have read the guide from front to back and tested all the recipes.
Today there are more chefs redefining what it means to run a fine dining restaurant, exploring new flavours and techniques outside of French techniques and taking sustainability into account. It makes sense that we look back to food history for inspiration.
DZ When I wrote the book, I wondered if anyone was going to read it. Turns out, a lot of people did. The book struck a chord with a certain type of cook who likes to take things apart and understand how they work.
There has been an enormous zeitgeist of understanding and public interest in this field. Even if you are not actively paying attention, you cannot walk through a grocery store without being bombarded by fermentation catchphrases. It started long before I came along. I was in the right place at the right time at Noma.
ER Sandor Katz’s Fermentation Journeys, by the self-avowed fermentation revivalist nicknamed “Sandorkraut,” chronicles his travels and learnings about global ferments and techniques. If you wrote a similar book, where would you start?
DZ I have always wanted to spend some time with monk chef Jeong Kwan in South Korea and get on her speed. I’ve been to China, Japan and Vietnam and I’ve seen fermentation in all of these places. Korea seems like such a pillar in the region for their craft and distinct flavours.
BK I was looking into the Templestay program as well; I haven’t been to Korea in 23 years.
DZ You should make the pilgrimage!
Chef and monk Jeong Kwan.
Photo: imageBROKER.com GmbH & Co. KG/Alamy
Chef Douglas McMaster.
Photo: Silo
ER One page in The Noma Guide to Fermentation reads, “Your ferments are limited only by your imagination.” Where is your imagination leading you now?
BK I’m planning on visiting Silo’s Fermentation Factory in London. I’ve been talking to chef Douglas McMaster about creativity, fermentation and innovation and he’s been a great ally. I would love to learn more about his approach to incorporating zero-waste strategies into fine dining.
I’m in the middle of building my fermentation lab for my restaurant. The goal for building a lab is to dedicate as much of our time into R&D as the service. We will be able to do that because it’s going to be a very small restaurant: 16 guests a night, four nights a week. And I would love to incorporate more sustainability into that model.
I’m also reading Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act to find sources of creativity outside of food. Both of my parents are artists, so I’m always trying to learn more about art history.
DZ I picked up In a Flight of Starlings, a book by Giorgio Parisi that examines theories underlying complexity. I’m curious about whether complexity can or should be solved, and if it can be modelled. If I had to put a bet on it, the answer would be no. Fermentation can’t be figured out. The universe is more complex than we have the ability to understand. And that’s fine, we should accept that.
