I'm in a crowded commercial kitchen, and everywhere I look I see bottles of colorful drinks and jars holding faded vegetables suspended in brine. The smell of fermented cabbage permeates the room. I open a mason jar, which lets out a loud hiss. I'd spent months researching the gut-brain axis during my PhD, hoping to understand the role that fermented food may play in our mental health. So I enrolled in a class on how to make fermented foods.
The teacher is praising these ancient foods as a magical cure for every ailment you can imagine. I'm uncomfortable — not because of the smell, but because I've never found a scientific article that definitively supported this idea. I'm subconsciously applying a fact filter and wondering what the other unsuspecting students must think. I let this slide, since I'm here to learn the art of fermentation. I bravely take a spoonful of sauerkraut. The salty brine overwhelms my senses. Gulp!
If you've ever eaten sauerkraut, kimchi, tempeh, kombucha, or kefir, then you've had a fermented food (or drink). The first time I gave them a propergo (with a mind open to enjoying them), I noticed the sour, vinegar-like taste and the noticeable absence of sugar.
