Fermentation, once a humble preservation method, is now at the heart of a global flavour fashion. Chefs, molecular gastronomists, and startups are blending tradition with tech to create bold, sustainable, gut-friendly foods of the future.
Fermented food has never tasted better. Once dismissed as pungent, funky, or just a health nut’s obsession, fermentation has boldly shaken off its cloak of the bland and the insipid.
It now seduces the taste buds of gourmets across the world, thriving in Michelin-starred menus and trendy neighbourhood eateries alike.
No longer a niche reserved for the health-conscious, fermented dishes now appeal to anyone craving food that excites the palate, surprises the senses, and delivers stories in every bite.
At the heart of this transformation is fermentation’s power to unlock new flavours. This ancient process—where bacteria, yeasts, or moulds convert sugars and starches into acids, alcohols, or gases—produces flavours that are complex, layered, and impossible to replicate through conventional cooking methods. While chefs once used fermentation mainly for preservation, today it’s become a culinary technique for creating magic.
Chefs like David Toutain and Joris Rousseau at Feuille in Paris are among the pioneer turning fermentation into fine art. Their kombuchas and fermented fruit sodas, like the chia-seed lemon tree elixir or lychee soda, aren’t just palate cleansers—they’re statements of sustainability and creativity.
The duo’s approach goes beyond flavour. It’s about using fermentation to reduce waste and elevate underused ingredients, ushering in a new age of sustainable gastronomy.
Meanwhile, fermentation labs have become the modern chef’s playground. At London’s zero-waste restaurant Silo, everything—from scraps to sauces—is transformed through fermentation.
Chef Douglas McMaster doesn’t just cook; he cultivates flavours over days, even months. What was once compost-bound becomes black garlic, miso, or house-made vinegars that define the dish. It’s a perfect example of how fermentation, in the hands of a visionary, becomes an engine of innovation
In Asia, chefs are also reclaiming traditional fermenting wisdom while injecting it with modern flair. Take Chef Kim Do-yun of Yun Seoul, for example. In his Michelin-starred restaurant nestled in Gangnam, fermentation is more than a technique—it’s a philosophy. Over 500 ingredients are meticulously aged, labelled, and catalogued in refrigerated fermentation rooms. Guests are greeted with a medley of dry-aged, fermented ingredients: dried mackerel, oysters, and shrimp—all curated to show the changing texture and flavour over time. Kim and his partner Abraham Song are now experimenting with Chinese huang dou jiang, fermenting their own soybeans and aging them to reinterpret the paste into something uniquely Korean.
Across the Pacific, Vietnamese-American chef Peter Cuong Franklin of Anan Saigon is reviving local fermentation techniques. Inspired by culinary trailblazers like David Chang and René Redzepi, Franklin crafted a fine-dining version of Tu’o’ng Ó’t—a fermented chili sauce central to Vietnamese cuisine. More than a condiment, it’s a cultural symbol, bringing the subtle heat, tang, and sweetness that transforms a bowl of pho into an experience. His modern version maintains that identity while elevating it with technique and finesse, showcasing how fermentation preserves tradition even as it pushes boundaries
And then there’s dessert—yes, fermentation has quietly upended even the realm of the sweet tooth. At CODA in Berlin, the world’s first Michelin-starred dessert-only restaurant, chef René Frank refuses to use refined sugar. Instead, he ferments oats using a traditional Japanese amazake method to unlock natural sweetness. In one dish, he pairs grilled apples with oat amazake ice cream, shallot jam, and hazelnut crumble, proving desserts don’t need to be saccharine to satisfy. Amazake—a sweet fermented rice drink he discovered while learning in Japan—now forms the base of many of his creations, bringing balance, depth, and a whisper of umami to every dish.
Frank is not alone in this pursuit. Chefs from Singapore’s Hirofumi Imamura to India’s Vanika Choudhary are reimagining fermentation across cultures. Imamura experiments with fermenting luxurious ingredients like truffle, transforming them into sauces that carry the soul of the ingredient to new places. Meanwhile, Choudhary at her Mumbai-based restaurant Noon uses regional Indian ferments—from jujube and bamboo shoots to jackfruit seeds—to restore ancestral food practices while crafting cutting-edge cuisine.
What links these culinary mavericks is not just a technique, but a mindset: one that sees decay not as the end of food, but as its rebirth. Fermentation turns perishability into potential. It transforms food waste into luxury. It extracts deep umami from the mundane and carves new pathways in flavour. As David Zilber, the former head of fermentation at Noma, aptly said, fermentation is “the alchemy of life”—a slow, invisible transformation that leaves its imprint on everything it touches.
Today, fermentation is not a trend—it’s a reckoning. A reckoning with excess, with loss of tradition, and with our craving for something more meaningful on our plates. It connects us to the past while constantly evolving, and in doing so, it offers chefs a powerful tool to cook not just with taste, but with time, terroir, and thought.
In a world addicted to instant gratification, fermentation teaches patience. But the payoff? Flavours that can’t be hurried. Food that tells stories. And a plate that lingers long after the last bite.
