Fermented and Funky

Kiviak is an Arctic delicacy of whole little auk seabirds that have been softened and darkened through fermentation. It has a commanding, pungent aroma, but the meat tastes incredibly savory and gamey, much like an extra-mature blue cheese or strong parmesan with fruity notes.

How It's Made

Hunters tightly pack 300 to 500 whole, unplucked little auks into a hollowed-out seal skin, greasing the sewn seams with fat to create a perfectly airtight environment. Buried under a heavy cairn of rocks to press out oxygen, the birds undergo anaerobic fermentation for three to eighteen months. The seal fat acts as a tenderizer while the birds' natural enzymes slowly transform them in the cold dark.

The Story

Kiviak is an ancient masterpiece of Indigenous survival engineering created by the Inughuit people of northwest Greenland. Living in one of the most extreme climates on Earth, early hunters faced a massive problem: how to secure enough food to survive the brutal, dark winter when fresh hunting is nearly impossible. They invented a brilliant method of packing summer's abundance of migrating birds into nature's perfect Tupperware—a thick, fat-lined seal skin. By safely fermenting the catch beneath freezing rocks, the community could thrive through the hardest months of the year. Today, when prepared by highly experienced Inuit elders who know the exact traditional methods to keep it safe, this ingenious food remains a life-sustaining link to their ancestors.

### Milbenkäse

Germany — A sharp, deeply nutty German cheese that gets its amazing flavor from thousands of tiny, living cheese mites.

Milbenkäse is a small, amber or black cylinder of cheese that smells sharply of ammonia. When you take a bite, it tastes deeply nutty, sharp, and zesty. The best part? It is covered in thousands of tiny, living cheese mites, and you eat them right along with the cheese!

How It's Made

Cheesemakers mix a soft fresh curd called quark with caraway seeds and elderflower, shaping it into little cylinders. These wheels are placed in wooden boxes full of rye flour and millions of live cheese mites for three months to a year. The mites munch on the rind and excrete digestive enzymes that naturally ferment the cheese from the outside in, creating its dark color and sharp flavor.

The Story

The tradition of making mite cheese in the German region of Würchwitz dates all the way back to the Middle Ages. But by 1970, this ancient craft had nearly vanished completely, and only one elderly woman in the village, Liesbeth Brauer, still knew the secret recipe. Thankfully, a local science teacher named Helmut Pöschel learned her technique and rescued Milbenkäse from extinction. Today, it is a perfectly legal, fiercely protected European delicacy that keeps a centuries-old culinary partnership between humans and tiny bugs alive.

### Nattō

納豆

Japan — These musty, warm soybeans whip up into a delicious, never-ending web of savory, sticky strings.

Nattō is whole soybeans fermented until they become incredibly sticky. It has a strong, musty aroma with mild notes of ammonia. When stirred, the beans release a web of long, silvery threads. Underneath the smell lies a beloved burst of earthy, nutty, and savory umami flavor.

How It's Made

Small soybeans are steamed until soft, then mixed with a heat-loving bacteria called Bacillus subtilis. The beans are kept in a very warm environment (104°F) for up to 24 hours while the microbes rapidly predigest the proteins. This fermentation creates delicious amino acids and poly-gamma-glutamic acid, the chemical responsible for those famous stretchy strings.

The Story

Nattō has been consumed in Japan for over a thousand years. According to traditional legend, it was discovered completely by accident around 1086 AD by the samurai Minamoto no Yoshiie. His troops were boiling soybeans for their horses when they were suddenly attacked, forcing the soldiers to quickly pack the hot beans into bags made of rice straw. It turns out that rice straw naturally carries Bacillus subtilis spores. Days later, the hungry soldiers opened the bags to find their beans had fermented and grown sticky. They ate them anyway, realized how deeply delicious they were, and a brilliant culinary tradition was born.

### Hákarl

Iceland — A toxic Arctic shark is transformed by time and pressure into a sweet, nutty, Viking-approved delicacy.

Hákarl is the fermented, dried flesh of the massive Greenland shark, served as pale, rubbery cubes on toothpicks. It possesses a sharp, eye-watering smell of ammonia, like strong cleaning products. But past the aroma, it tastes surprisingly sweet, nutty, and complex, like an extra-mature blue cheese.

How It's Made

Fresh Greenland shark meat is naturally toxic, packed with uric acid to help the animal survive freezing Arctic waters. To make it safe, the meat is traditionally buried in gravel and pressed under heavy stones for 6 to 12 weeks, forcing out the poisonous fluids as it ferments. Finally, the meat is hung in open huts to air-dry for four to five months until it transforms into a safe, digestible food.

The Story

Hundreds of years ago, the early Viking settlers of Iceland faced long, brutal winters in a harsh and freezing environment. They desperately needed food to survive the dark months, and the massive Greenland shark—which can grow up to 24 feet long and weigh over 2,000 pounds—offered a monumental amount of protein. The only problem was that its fresh meat was dangerously poisonous. In a stroke of survival genius, the settlers discovered that by burying the meat in the sand and aging it, they could completely detoxify it. Today, hákarl isn't just a bold snack; it is the legendary survival food that literally kept generations of Icelanders from starving to death.

### Iru

West Africa — These funky, fermented locust beans are the ultimate natural flavor bomb, turning ordinary stews into rich, meaty masterpieces.

Iru looks like dark brown, slightly wrinkled beans or a mashed paste. It hits your nose with a massive, funky aroma—like extra-mature blue cheese mixed with gamey meat, roasted coffee, and dark chocolate. In your mouth, it’s an absolute umami powerhouse that tastes incredibly savory.

How It's Made

Making iru is a labor-intensive craft where women boil rock-hard African locust bean seeds for hours, pound off the hulls, and boil them again. The tender beans are packed into leaf-lined calabash gourds, where native Bacillus bacteria drive an alkaline fermentation over two to three days. Finally, the beans are sun-dried, transforming into umami bombs as their proteins break down.

The Story

For centuries, communities across West Africa have used fermentation to turn the incredibly tough, otherwise inedible seeds of the locust bean tree into a dietary staple packed with nearly 40 percent protein. Long before modern, factory-produced bouillon cubes existed, indigenous cooks developed this brilliant method to unlock the seed's dense nutrition and incredible flavor. Today, despite the convenience of commercial seasoning cubes, home cooks and top chefs alike continue to seek out traditional iru because no artificial product can ever replicate its deep, historical soul.

### Stinky Tofu

臭豆腐

China and Taiwan — It might smell exactly like dirty gym socks, but this night-market treasure deep-fries into the ultimate crispy, savory snack.

Stinky tofu lives up to its name: it smells intensely like old socks or damp earth. But don't let your nose trick you! Once you take a bite, the flavor is surprisingly mild, pleasantly earthy, and packed with a melt-in-your-mouth savory richness.

How It's Made

Vendors soak fresh squares of tofu in a secret fermentation brine—often made from naturally aged milk, dried shrimp, bamboo shoots, and mustard greens. Over hours or days, microbes break down the tofu's proteins, creating its legendary funky smell and unlocking incredibly savory flavors.

The Story

While its exact origins are debated, legend says this fragrant snack was accidentally invented hundreds of years ago during the Qing dynasty. A scholar who had failed his imperial exams had a surplus of unsold tofu, which he left in an earthen jar with salt and spices. When he returned, the tofu had transformed! Today, it represents a beautiful hallmark of traditional Chinese cooking: wasting absolutely nothing and using the magic of fermentation to turn simple ingredients into a wildly complex delicacy. Its famous scent wafts proudly through the bustling night markets of China and Taiwan, where massive crowds of devoted fans line up for a taste.