Whose idea was it to call you the Walter White of flavour?
I honestly can’t remember if it was my idea or someone else’s, but it’s been in my Instagram bio for years. I’ve been stopped by airport security more times than I care to count for carrying around my ‘experiments’. I was once arrested at Gatwick Airport (he was later released without charge) because they didn’t believe what my job was. It’s not the kind of career a school adviser would ever suggest when you’re 18. I thought about showing them my Instagram to prove I was legit, but then I thought, oh no - it says Walter White (the lead character and chemist in the hit series Breaking Bad) of flavour. That’s only going to make things worse.
Have you ever had any run-ins with EHOs while working with restaurants?
There have been some tricky moments, yes. It really depends on where you are in the country - some EHOs are more understanding than others. I know people in the UK making miso and soy sauce using peer-reviewed methods. These are techniques that have been used in Japan for thousands of years, but local authorities might still say, “No, this is dangerous”. You have to really walk them through what you’re doing to get them on board.
Why is fermentation so good at creating flavour?
I call fermentation the midwife of flavour - it brings flavour into being. The potential is already there in the ingredients. Take the soybean: all the proteins are there. You steam it, then ferment it. It’s like unlocking a complex puzzle - you’re coaxing certain microbes to produce enzymes, which break down proteins into amino acids. These amino acids are what make food taste savoury and delicious. The building blocks are already there; it’s just a question of understanding your raw material - whether it’s soybeans or beef - and guiding it toward the flavour you want.
How did you get into fermentation?
I studied materials science, which is a cross between chemistry and physics. Halfway through my PhD, I realised I didn’t love it. I was always into food and restaurants and playing around in the kitchen. My parents didn’t cook much, so me and my sister picked that up early. I’d done some stages and worked as a chef, and then I pitched an idea to explore butter fermentation to the Nordic Food Lab. Having Noma on my CV opened a lot of doors.
Which era of Noma was it?
It was 2014, so René Redzepi was still on Noma 1.0. The restaurant was at its most influential, it was the lighthouse that every ambitious kitchen in the world looked to. There was so much buzz and to be a part of that was incredible. That’s where I really grasped the potential of fermentation. I used the science I knew to help chefs create deliciousness. I still do a lot with restaurants and chefs, but I’m no longer a gun for hire. More recently, I co-founded a food tech company (Win-Win) which emerged from work I’d done with chefs like Douglas McMaster at Silo. Win-Win uses fermentation to make cocoa-free chocolate. I’ve stepped away from that now, though it’s still going strong. I’ve got a new project in the works which can’t talk about it yet. I’ve also been working on my book Adventures in Fermentation, which comes out next week (12 June).
Fermentation has been around forever. Why did it suddenly get hot with chefs?
Chefs were looking for the next big thing. Molecular gastronomy had peaked, though those techniques are still used in high-end kitchens. Fermentation fits a certain narrative and is a pillar of new Nordic cuisine. Most of the world’s favourite flavours - coffee, tea, chocolate, bread, vinegar, alcohol - are fermented and these things were already on the table; chefs just started paying more attention. There was also a cultural rediscovery happening. For the past 50 or 60 years, we’ve become divorced from food systems. My grandma made yoghurt, cheese, bread, all using microbes. Fermentation helped people realise how interconnected it all is. You could take ideas from Japan, say miso or soy sauce, and apply them to local ingredients in northern Europe.
Would you say Asia leads the way historically when it comes to fermentation?
That’s a tricky one. Fermented staples exist in every food culture, Britain included. But yes, in parts of Asia, there’s a certain reverence. In Japan, China, and Korea, fermentation is stitched into the fabric of life. It’s more ritualised. There’s a deeper cultural understanding, and it even seeps into things like ceramics and visual art. It’s embedded in a different way.
You’ve tried ferments from all over the world. What’s the oddest one?
I have to tread carefully because something I find odd might be totally normal to someone from Greenland, but fermented seal blubber is definitely up there. I was doing some work with Alchemist in Copenhagen, and it completely surprised me. You think it’s going to be strong and gamey, but it has these extraordinary tropical notes. It tastes like guava. We ate it in thin strips, like lardo. I’ve also tried fermented pufferfish eggs. They’re poisonous when fresh, but after two years of fermentation, the toxins break down and it becomes safe to eat.
What’s a good starting point for chefs curious about fermentation?
The simplest ferment you can make is cultured cream. It’s also a great base for amazing butter. Just get some good-quality cream, add a spoon of unpasteurised crème fraîche, and leave it at room temperature for a day or two. It’ll ferment and turn into this beautifully acidic, buttery cream. Another easy one is sauerkraut - chop some cabbage, add salt, and leave it for five to seven days. It’s low effort, low risk, and a great way to start building flavour using microbes.