fermentation school

Make Garum Like a Roman :: Garum Recipe

A well preserved garum shop in Pompeii has given researchers not only more clues to the production of garum but another bit of evidence to back up an August eruption date of Mount Vesuvius. Alfredo Carannante analyze.jpg

Here is a Garum recipe that is an extension of our previous post about Roman garum making in Barcino (modern Barcelona) ancient times. At its most basic garum (also sometimes called liquamen) is seafood, salt, and time. Roman makers though, we imagine, were looking for competitive edge and some shoppers for unique flavors. Of course, the choice of sea foods was paramount in flavor and likely ultimate price. We’ve read in numerous places mackerel made a good common garum, including Pliny. The best according to a 10th century book of agriculture the Geoponica was made with tuna innards, blood and gills (full utilization in action). However, the maker might include wine and herbs. One ancient recipe translation we read called for highly aromatic dried herbs that line the base of the fermentation vessel, then as fish and salt are layered so are more herbs.  The Barcino “factory” was right next door to a winery so I can see a partnership with less than ideal wines going into the garum.

The following recipe is a traditional fish based garum if you are interested in a modern spin on this umami sauce you can learn to make a bone marrow garum here.

In our research recipes layered salt on the fish. The same Geoponica recipe is roughly 12.5% ratio (8 parts fish to 1 part salt) but we found the flavor crisper and cleaner at a 18% salt by weight of fish ratio. Ancient recipes used significantly more salt than most people do today. Remember, salt was the preserving mechanism and the fermentation control, and it wasn’t something people couldn’t get away from because it was hidden in processed foods. Garums and other preserved nutritionally dense foods where the processed foods and the way the fresh foods were salted.

Heat is also a consideration. The ancient recipes all call for some sunshine and our modern sensibilities know that enzyme action is faster and most efficient around 138°F/59°C. These are the temperatures we use to speed up koji-based ferments. Temperatures in different regions might also contribute to the varying times prescribed—from 20 days to 6 months.

 

2 pounds (900 grams) raw mackerel, or other raw fatty fish (sardines are another good choice)

5.7 ounces (162 grams) salt

Optional dried herbs

 

1.     Chop the whole fish up, blood and guts and all.

2.     Mix thoroughly with the salt and optional herbs. Everything should be coated.

3.     Place mixture in a fermentation vessel. If you have an amphora go for it, otherwise use a half-gallon or gallon glass jar. Lid finger tight.

4.     Keep in sun, or warm, if possible. Warmth will move things along.

5.     Stir daily for the first two weeks. The more you stir the better. If you want to increase the surface area which will help with the enzymatic break down, you can mix it with a hand blender if you want to.

6.     Allow to ferment for about 4 months at room temperatures, stirring occasionally. It will go faster if you keep it warmer than that. The mixture will completely dissolve over time, if you don’t blend it you will still see the bones.

7.     It will separate and the liquid will be a variation of a clear amber color.

8.     Strain off the liquid. Use a coarse strainer first and then a fine strainer and finally a sanitized dense cheese cloth.

9.     Bottle the liquid. It will last indefinitely. 

What is Garum? Discovering Ancient Roman Fermentation beneath the streets of Barcelona

If you don’t recognize the name Garum you might have tasted, or at least smelled, fish sauce from southeast Asia. Other names for garum fish sauces are liquamen, allec, or muria, but we suspect it is less likely you have come across those names. Two thousand years ago garum was very popular in the Roman Empire, having probably been introduced to the Roman palate after they conquered Carthage, across the Balearic Sea in what is now Tunisia. The fermented fish sauce garum was a staple for all levels of roman citizenry. Besides its concentrated umami punch it’s also an amazing way to preserve an ocean’s perishable abundance for a long period of time. The secret to its longevity is in the process, which you might find fascinating, impossible or just a little gross. More on that in a moment.

In 2019 we were invited to Spain to teach different fermentation techniques, including making miso, hard cider and fermented condiments. So, on our last day in Barcelona we decided to get away from fermentation for a few hours and walk across the city to the Gothic Quarter to find the Picasso Museum. Walking through the tight cobblestoned streets of this old part of Barcelona you can easily imagine a scene from the middle ages, or for Christopher something from Monty Python’s Holy Grail. It feels old, worn yet solid as the giant blocks of stone that make up many of the walls. Upon finding the museum we realized a lot of people had already had the same idea and it would be many hours before the next tickets were available. So we did what we usually do in new places and wandered around. That’s when we found something amazing completely by accident.

 Just a few minutes’ walk down a couple of narrow streets we randomly walked into the yawning vastness of the Placa del Rei, a square surrounded by the Palau Reial Major or Grand Royal Palace. It was sunny and the square and massive spreading steps to one end were covered with couples and families taking in the sun’s rays or enjoying a small bite to eat. Kirsten noticed the simple sign and being the more adventurous one convinced Christopher his stomach could wait until they checked out this Museum of the History of Barcelona. We checked in our backpacks into lockers, grabbed English versions of the handheld audio tour wands and were escorted into an open elevator. Two floors down we stepped out into an underground Barcelona of 2000 years ago, the roman fortification of Barcino. Painstakingly excavated for more than 30 years below the palace above and featuring among other things the remains of a very old fermentation business it takes a few minutes for you to take in what your eyes are seeing. Elevated walkways above the ruins allow for you to basically hover a few feet above over 43,000 square feet of ruins, including a winery and a factory that produced a fermented fish sauce called Garum. (See the artist rendering in the slide show.)

Alright, remember the process, which you might find fascinating, impossible or a little gross? We are in the find-it-fascinating camp, but you be the judge. If you find yourself in the fascinating camp check out this recipe. To understand what is happening in garum fermentation you need a quick anatomy primer. Organisms have in their guts microbes that break down the foods ingested to supply themselves and their host with energy. This happens in halibut as well as in a human. These microbes stay within our guts, keeping their activity focused on what we eat and not on ourselves and the same goes for the fish these early Spanish fisherman were catching. However, if you chop the fish up and throw everything in a big vat with layers of salt, these microbes break down the proteins and fats of the fish, sea urchins and whatever ends up down in there to liquidy amino acids, fatty acids and the bones. It’s the animals’ own digestive juices turned upon themselves. Perhaps a cautionary tale to remember to feed your gut microbes within you well, otherwise, well…

The initial salted stage set up the fermentation was in large vats cut out of the limestone and sheltered from the rain and sun by awnings of sorts. (See the rectangular stone tubs in the slide show.) After some time through a series of connected troughs and drains the fermented fish mash was transferred to smaller containers that would have been outside on the patio to further condense in the sun. Beside these were the well-preserved remains of mortars that were used when the finished garum was transferred to massive clay pots, called dolia, on raised platforms for storage and sale. (In the slide show these are the two views of huge round pots.) Remember the bones? Those were fished out (sorry for the pun) and ground up in the mortars to make fertilizer or as an amendment to animal feed. An intricate series of stone gutters carried whatever was left off after washing between batches, likely flowing into the local waterways to become nutrients. A true zero waste fermentation operation and likely ran for hundreds of years judging by the layers of flooring tiles that reflect many renovations of the factory.

Now that you know more if you are thinking you are leaning toward the gross camp don’t beat yourself up about it. People have had strong opinions about garum for at least the last 2,000 years. Pliny the Elder, a fellow author described it as “that secretion of putrefying matter” while his contemporary Seneca piled on the garum hate train to ask “Do you not realize that garum sociorum, that expensive bloody mass of decaying fish, consumes the stomach with its salted putrefaction?”  Not exactly inviting is it? One of the biggest challenges for some isn’t so much how it’s made but the smell. Make it outside in a shed, on a balcony, or any place that your loved ones (and neighbors) won’t be offended. Also, if you are making a traditional garum with all the animal including the head and organs make sure its fresh. Believe it or not starting out with fish that doesn’t already smell fishy is helpful. This is not a place to decide to use the fish too far gone to eat otherwise. If you know that you want to make an amino sauce, or modern garum you can replace the fish gut microbes and enzymes altogether by bringing in a new team.  Sweet floral smelling Koji, aspergillus oryzae, which you can read about all about in our book Miso, Tempeh, Natto and other Tasty Ferments can offer its enzyme superpowers to break down proteins in similar ways. For these modern garums koji is used with a concentrated salt brine and protein.

If you want to explore the world of modern garum you can get started here with this class to make Bone Marrow Garum taught by Meredith Leigh. To read more about fish sauce head to this article.

Aged Fermented Thai Red Curry Paste

How to know when old ferments are still good? That is a question many of ask when we find a jar we didn’t remember we had. Lost and found ferments are real. We all have ferments that slip quietly to the back of the fridge where they get forgotten. In the spirit of full utilization and not wasting food I want to help you figure out what is still good (and maybe even tastier!) and what should be thrown out.

How a ferment ages depends very much on what kind it is. The original ingredients will determine a lot about its longevity. Miso and other bean ferments generally keep aging and layering on flavor. These may have a layer of mold growing on them but underneath they are still safe. Vegetables are quite variable in that they can still be technically “good” but no longer vibrant. I find a sauerkraut that is over a year old is generally of this ilk. Whereas a chile pepper based ferment has compounds in it that give it years of delicious longevity. Check the last post about creating hot sauce from old fermented pepper pastes. I also find herbal ferments like basil or shiso have a much longer lifespan do to the constituents that make these herbs antimicrobial. To learn more about fermentation methods head to Fermentation School.

This fermented Thai Red Curry Paste is an example of a ferment that had both antimicrobial preservation ingredients and chiles. I found it recently in the recesses of the fridge. It was made in 2015. To be fair, not the daily fridge, one of the ferment fridges where things get “lost and found” often. This recipe is from Fiery Ferments and took inspiration from one of our favorite flavors and lacto-fermented it. Early in the ferment it doesn’t taste as good, it gets better with age.As the fermentation continued, the flavors blended and created a pleasing complex red curry flavor. So hence making it and putting it away for 6 months, um or 5 years. What do you do? Make curry. Below is the recipe for your enjoyment, go ahead hide it in the back of the fridge after it has fermented to discover later.

To evaluate your old ferment for “good” you will use your senses and trust your gut. Properly fermented the pH will have been below 4.0 this ensures that harmful bacteria will not live in the ferment. (You can test with a pH meter or test strips.) You will also know because it will be pleasingly acid — think pickles. If the ferment is still anaerobic (under the brine and no airpockets) then it is also a good sign. There may be yeast, even mold on top but that can be removed. As long as it is just on top and the rest is anaerobic it is fine. Then of course there is smell, does it still smell fine—not foul, putrid, musty or off? If so you can move to a small taste, this will give you a lot of information. It should taste fine. If it does not, then it is not.

RECIPE FOR FERMENTED THAI RED CURRY PASTE

Thai pastes are traditionally ground together with a mortar and pestle. We mention this because there is a texture difference: the fibers of lemongrass and roots don’t break down as much in a food processor, though the flavor will still be delicious.

3 tablespoons fresh lemongrass, chopped

1 medium shallot, or 4 tablespoons, chopped

9–10 diced Thai type small red chiles, deseeded, soaked, and drained

1/3 cup loosely packed cilantro, chopped, with root when possible

8 medium cloves garlic

2 tablespoons galangal, grated

1–2 kaffir limes (also called makrut limes,substitute regular limes if unavailable)

1/2 tablespoon kaffir lime zest (take care not to zest the bitter pith)

2 teaspoons kaffir lime juice

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1. Process all the ingredients to a paste consistency in a food processor. Sprinkle in the salt. It will become juicy immediately.

2. Pack the paste into a jar that is just the right size for your ferment, leaving at least an inch of headspace, release any air pockets as you press it in. The thick brine will be hard to distinguish from the rest of the paste.

3. Press a piece of parchment paper (or other cartouche) against the surface, being careful not to trap any air beneath it. Screw the lid down tightly.

4. Put the ferment in a corner of the kitchen to cure, and watch for air pockets forming in the paste. If you see them, open the lid and press the paste back down. If the lid starts to bulge, simply open it for a moment to “burp” the ferment.