

Beschreibung
Informationen zum Autor Adams, Aaron Klappentext "Fermenter specializes in fermentation from a fully plant-based perspective--hand-crafting their own tempeh, vegan cheeses, kombucha, and koji and putting it all together to make comforting, craveable dishes"-- ...Informationen zum Autor Adams, Aaron Klappentext "Fermenter specializes in fermentation from a fully plant-based perspective--hand-crafting their own tempeh, vegan cheeses, kombucha, and koji and putting it all together to make comforting, craveable dishes"-- Leseprobe INTRODUCTION Oh, hello there. Most days when I'm behind the counter at Fermenter Workshop, right next door to Fermenter proper, I'll get some eager person, wild-eyed and firing fermentation questions at me. They want me to explain the mechanism for all of the weird shit that is going on in all of these jars and crocks, and most of the time I shrug and say, I dunno. This, of course, usually doesn't go over that well, so I'll wryly add, I approach fermentation from a craft perspective. Indeed. Which is to say I'm a bit of a dum-dum who doesn't really know what the heck I'm doing. I can't imagine many old timey fermenters understood exactly what was going on when they were salting cabbage and storing it away in big mud pots either, bless them. Knowing that gives me the strength I need to carry on making things when I have zero idea what's happening. That's been a major theme in my life. As a moderately successful chef and restaurateur, who is pretty famous within the square block of Southeast Portland that Fermenter inhabits, I've always pushed forward into the inky darkness of not knowing. It isn't fearlessness or courage, but rather a sort of advantageous dimwittedness that allows me to try all sorts of things out. Luckily, I also lack an ability to be too terribly embarrassed, which allows me to fail over and over again without slowing down. This is an important trait for a fermenter. When some time ago I was having major texture deterioration issues with some cabbage kraut, I asked the experts at Cultured Pickle Shop in Berkeley, California what I was doing wrong. Kevin Farley, co-owner there with his wife Alex Hozven, let me in on a little secret when he said, I imagine you will find, as we have, that fermentation is a cruel collaborator, and will continue to fuck you over. Hopefully it will keep you humble. And there you have it. Even the experts make something awful from time to time. What I'm driving at here is when you approach fermentation projects, be ready to make some really disgusting things from time to time. Take plenty of notes so you can figure out what the heck happened, and then try not to repeat those processes and recreate those conditions. But, don't ever ever feel bad about trying. I used to work for a chef who was a real asshole, but who did leave me with one gem. He told me, I'm not better than you, I've just fucked up more than you have. So, go fuck stuff up, and make a million things. See which ones are good, and then hold onto those babies. Who the heck are you? I was raised in a fairly boring mid-sized town in the Bay Area named Livermore. After my parents divorced, we moved around a lot, landing in the great and noble city of Hayward in East Bay. I spent a good amount of time pissing my parents off there, running around and hanging with other kids who liked pissing off their parents, too. I was a fat, nerdy, somewhat androgynous, vegetarian weirdo, and I was unliked by most of my classmates. During my sophomore year of high school, I finally found a group of other weirdos who were having a hard time fitting in as well: punks. Oh punks, beautiful punks. Even they had their hierarchies of cool, still a goofball like me could find a way to wedge into their culture. I spent nearly every weekend at punk temple 924 Gilman in the early '90s. When I got beat up by a bunch of Nazis by the truck trailers down the street from Gilman, I decided to join a group of anti-racist kids called SHARPs (Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice). After that I went running around pretending to be a tough guy. Of course, I'm not very tough...
Autorentext
Adams, Aaron
Klappentext
Heads (of cabbage) are gonna roll! Learn how to make funky, flavorful ferments + tasty food that incorporates them. Fermenter is perfect for those looking to add some serious culinary wizardry and revolutionary DIY spirit to their vegan kitchen.
Like The Noma Guide to Fermentation but with a punk, DIY aesthetic and a it's-OK-to-fail ethos, Fermenter provides the sought-after secrets and words of wisdom from top fermentation educators, Aaron Adams and Liz Crain.
Based in Portland, Oregon (vegan capital of America), the Fermenter restaurant specializes in culinary fermentation to achieve their unique funky flavors. Learn how to handcraft local bean-and-grain tempehs, fresh and aged vegan cheeses, fizzy probiotic drinks, and koji ferments and revolutionize the flavor profiles in your home kitchen! They empower you to follow them down this highly addictive (and inexpensive) path, resulting in totally DIY food, free from mass-produced or corporate anything.
Whether you're a pickle wizard already or a just want to level up your home-cook vegan cred, there are more than 60 tantalizing recipes, including:
Cheesy Jojo Supreme with Tempeh Bacon: the perfect stoner food, like if stuffed potato skins were a nacho dish
Beware: Vegetables will be slaughtered.
Zusammenfassung
Heads (of cabbage) are gonna roll! Learn how to make funky, flavourful ferments + tasty food that incorporates them. Fermenter is perfect for those looking to add some serious culinary wizardry and revolutionary DIY spirit to their vegan kitchen.
Leseprobe
**INTRODUCTION
Oh, hello there.**
 
Most days when I’m behind the counter at Fermenter Workshop, right next door to Fermenter proper, I’ll get some eager person, wild-eyed and firing fermentation questions at me. They want me to explain the mechanism for all of the weird shit that is going on in all of these jars and crocks, and most of the time I shrug and say, “I dunno.” This, of course, usually doesn’t go over that well, so I’ll wryly add, “I approach fermentation from a craft perspective.”
Indeed. Which is to say I’m a bit of a dum-dum who doesn’t really know what the heck I’m doing. I can’t imagine many old timey fermenters understood exactly what was going on when they were salting cabbage and storing it away in big mud pots either, bless them. Knowing that gives me the strength I need to carry on making things when I have zero idea what’s happening.
That’s been a major theme in my life. As a moderately successful chef and restaurateur, who is pretty famous within the square block of Southeast Portland that Fermenter inhabits, I’ve always pushed forward into the inky darkness of not knowing. It isn’t fearlessness or courage, but rather a sort of advantageous dimwittedness that allows me to try all sorts of things out. Luckily, I also lack an ability to be too terribly embarrassed, which allows me to fail over and over again without slowing down.
This is an important trait for a fermenter. When some time ago I was having major texture deterioration issues with some cabbage kraut, I asked the experts at Cultured Pickle Shop in Berkeley, California what I was doing wrong. Kevin Farley, co-owner there with his wife Alex Hozven, let me in on a little secret when he said, “I imagine you will find, as we have, that fermentation is a cruel collaborator, and will continue to fuck you over. Hopefully it will keep you humble.”
And there you have it. Even the experts make something awful from time to time. What I’m driving at here is when you approach fermentation projects, be ready to make some really disgusting things from…
