Yasuo Yamamoto has a secret – or more precisely, 68 of them. On a recent morning on the Japanese island of Shodoshima, the fifth-generation soy sauce brewer slid open the door to his family’s wooden storehouse to reveal 68 massive cedar barrels caked in a fungus-filled crust. As he climbed up a creaky staircase into his dark, cobwebbed loft, every inch of the planked walkway, beams and ceiling was covered in centuries’ worth of black bacteria, causing the thick brown goo inside the barrels to bubble. The entire building was alive.
“This is what gives our soy sauce its unique taste,” Yamamoto said, pointing to a 150-year-old wooden barrel. “Today, less than 1% of soy sauce in Japan is still made this way.”
Until 70 years ago, all Japanese soy sauce was made this way, and it tasted completely different to what the world knows today. But despite a government ordinance to modernise production after World War Two, a few traditional brewers continue to make soy sauce the old-fashioned way, and Yamamoto is the most important of them all. Not only has he made it his mission to show the world how real soy sauce is supposed to taste, but he’s leading a nationwide effort to preserve the secret ingredient in a 750-year-old recipe before it disappears.
Different dimension
Soy sauce (shoyu) is arguably the single most important seasoning in Japan’s Unesco-inscribed Washoku cuisine. It’s found in every kitchen, used in nearly every meal and placed on every table in Japanese restaurants from Tokyo to Texas. More than just a flavour, its signature umami savouriness is an entirely different dimension of taste – so much so that umami was added as one of the five basic human tastes alongside sweet, sour, salty and bitter in 1908.
When it’s aged and fermented in a wooden barrel, soy sauce can be as sophisticated as a fine wine, but today, most of the world dips its sushi in the equivalent of a cheap cask rosé. That’s because in order to keep up with demand and increase production in the late 1940s, the Japanese government encouraged brewers to ditch the traditional wooden barrels used to ferment food, known as kioke, adapt stainless steel vats and cut the multi-year fermenting process to just three months.
According to Yamamoto, a kioke isn’t just a vessel, it’s the essential ingredient needed to make soy sauce, as the grain of the wood is home to millions of microbes that deepen and enrich the umami flavour. Because this bacteria can’t survive in steel tanks, many commercial companies pump their soy sauces full of additives. So unless you’ve visited an ancient craft brewer or artisanal store in Japan, you’ve likely only tasted a thin, salty imitation of a complex, nuanced brew.
More than soy
For the past 150 years, the Yamamotos and their millions of microbes have been making the family’s Yamaroku soy sauce by mixing soybeans with wheat, salt and water, and letting it ferment in a four-year process. But as more and more of Japan’s soy brewers have swapped their wooden barrels for steel tanks, a big problem has occurred: the country is running out of kioke, and almost no-one knows how to build them. In the last seven years, Yamamoto has set out to learn this ancient craft and teach it to others to try to ensure its survival.
What’s at stake is something much bigger than soy sauce. Until a century ago, Japan’s five main fermented seasonings (soy sauce, miso, vinegar, mirin and sake) were all made in kioke. Today, only 3,000 kioke are used in Japan to make soy sauce, and far fewer are used to ferment the country’s other seasoning staples. When these natural fermentation chambers are replaced with steel vats, you lose the authentic taste of traditional Japanese cuisine. And if they were to vanish completely, so would part of Japan’s cultural and culinary soul.
“Base seasoning is mostly mass produced. Hardly any real products left,” Yamamoto said. “When the ability to produce kioke barrels disappears … the main ingredients will also disappear. There is a need to preserve the real thing and pass it on to my children and grandchildren’s generations. That’s our mission.” (...)
Kioke custodian
Today, there are more than 1,400 soy sauce companies in Japan, and Yamaroku is one of the last to only use kioke. While this distinction has helped Yamamoto revive the family business in a more craft brew-friendly era, it also means that his family’s fragile ecosystem faces an uncertain future. Because kioke can only last about 150 years, Yamamoto’s ancestors never had to make them. Now, many of his barrels are on the brink of becoming unusable.
Before World War Two, hundreds of companies across Japan built kioke for shoyu, sake, mirin and other seasonings. Today, there’s only one: Fujii Seiokesho. When Yamamoto contacted them in 2009, he discovered that they hadn’t received an order for a new kioke in 70 years, and had spent the past seven decades repairing the ageing barrels still used around Japan. What’s more, he learned the youngest cooper at the three-person company was 68 years old, had no successors and was retiring in 2020. So, while Yamamoto could buy his barrel, soon no-one would be available to fix it.
Recognising that the future of his company and all authentically fermented Japanese foods depended on the continuation of this craft, Yamamoto and two carpenters travelled to Fujii Seiokesho’s workshop outside Osaka in 2012 to learn the ancient art for themselves. After three days of instruction and a year of practice, they made their first barrel in 2013.
Hidden treasure
Making these mammoth 4,000-litre barrels requires a team effort. More than 40 planks of 100-year-old Yoshino cedar are rounded and laid vertically to form a cylinder. To lock the planks into place, Fujii Seiokesho’s craftsmen told Yamamoto not to use glue, but bamboo. After talking to a neighbour, Yamamoto learned that his grandfather had planted a bamboo grove decades earlier for exactly that reason, knowing that someone in the family would one day need to build more barrels.
For each kioke, Yamamoto searches in the grove for just the right shoot, cuts it and shaves it down to make elastic strips that he slowly weaves into braided bamboo hoops. These cylindrical hoops are then hoisted atop the barrel and carefully hammered into place to prevent any liquid from seeping out.
Since 2013, Yamamoto and his colleagues have constructed 23 barrels, but he hasn’t kept most of them. As word of his quest to revive kioke craftsmanship spread, Yamamoto has started receiving orders from other fermented food producers across the country. “When these three people [at Fujii Seiokesho] retire, they won’t be making barrels anymore, which means I’ll be the only person left who can make them,” he said.
by Eliot Stein & Mari Shibata, BBC | Read more:
Image: uncredited
“This is what gives our soy sauce its unique taste,” Yamamoto said, pointing to a 150-year-old wooden barrel. “Today, less than 1% of soy sauce in Japan is still made this way.”
Until 70 years ago, all Japanese soy sauce was made this way, and it tasted completely different to what the world knows today. But despite a government ordinance to modernise production after World War Two, a few traditional brewers continue to make soy sauce the old-fashioned way, and Yamamoto is the most important of them all. Not only has he made it his mission to show the world how real soy sauce is supposed to taste, but he’s leading a nationwide effort to preserve the secret ingredient in a 750-year-old recipe before it disappears.
Different dimension
Soy sauce (shoyu) is arguably the single most important seasoning in Japan’s Unesco-inscribed Washoku cuisine. It’s found in every kitchen, used in nearly every meal and placed on every table in Japanese restaurants from Tokyo to Texas. More than just a flavour, its signature umami savouriness is an entirely different dimension of taste – so much so that umami was added as one of the five basic human tastes alongside sweet, sour, salty and bitter in 1908.
When it’s aged and fermented in a wooden barrel, soy sauce can be as sophisticated as a fine wine, but today, most of the world dips its sushi in the equivalent of a cheap cask rosé. That’s because in order to keep up with demand and increase production in the late 1940s, the Japanese government encouraged brewers to ditch the traditional wooden barrels used to ferment food, known as kioke, adapt stainless steel vats and cut the multi-year fermenting process to just three months.According to Yamamoto, a kioke isn’t just a vessel, it’s the essential ingredient needed to make soy sauce, as the grain of the wood is home to millions of microbes that deepen and enrich the umami flavour. Because this bacteria can’t survive in steel tanks, many commercial companies pump their soy sauces full of additives. So unless you’ve visited an ancient craft brewer or artisanal store in Japan, you’ve likely only tasted a thin, salty imitation of a complex, nuanced brew.
More than soy
For the past 150 years, the Yamamotos and their millions of microbes have been making the family’s Yamaroku soy sauce by mixing soybeans with wheat, salt and water, and letting it ferment in a four-year process. But as more and more of Japan’s soy brewers have swapped their wooden barrels for steel tanks, a big problem has occurred: the country is running out of kioke, and almost no-one knows how to build them. In the last seven years, Yamamoto has set out to learn this ancient craft and teach it to others to try to ensure its survival.
What’s at stake is something much bigger than soy sauce. Until a century ago, Japan’s five main fermented seasonings (soy sauce, miso, vinegar, mirin and sake) were all made in kioke. Today, only 3,000 kioke are used in Japan to make soy sauce, and far fewer are used to ferment the country’s other seasoning staples. When these natural fermentation chambers are replaced with steel vats, you lose the authentic taste of traditional Japanese cuisine. And if they were to vanish completely, so would part of Japan’s cultural and culinary soul.
“Base seasoning is mostly mass produced. Hardly any real products left,” Yamamoto said. “When the ability to produce kioke barrels disappears … the main ingredients will also disappear. There is a need to preserve the real thing and pass it on to my children and grandchildren’s generations. That’s our mission.” (...)
Kioke custodian
Today, there are more than 1,400 soy sauce companies in Japan, and Yamaroku is one of the last to only use kioke. While this distinction has helped Yamamoto revive the family business in a more craft brew-friendly era, it also means that his family’s fragile ecosystem faces an uncertain future. Because kioke can only last about 150 years, Yamamoto’s ancestors never had to make them. Now, many of his barrels are on the brink of becoming unusable.
Before World War Two, hundreds of companies across Japan built kioke for shoyu, sake, mirin and other seasonings. Today, there’s only one: Fujii Seiokesho. When Yamamoto contacted them in 2009, he discovered that they hadn’t received an order for a new kioke in 70 years, and had spent the past seven decades repairing the ageing barrels still used around Japan. What’s more, he learned the youngest cooper at the three-person company was 68 years old, had no successors and was retiring in 2020. So, while Yamamoto could buy his barrel, soon no-one would be available to fix it.
Recognising that the future of his company and all authentically fermented Japanese foods depended on the continuation of this craft, Yamamoto and two carpenters travelled to Fujii Seiokesho’s workshop outside Osaka in 2012 to learn the ancient art for themselves. After three days of instruction and a year of practice, they made their first barrel in 2013.
Hidden treasure
Making these mammoth 4,000-litre barrels requires a team effort. More than 40 planks of 100-year-old Yoshino cedar are rounded and laid vertically to form a cylinder. To lock the planks into place, Fujii Seiokesho’s craftsmen told Yamamoto not to use glue, but bamboo. After talking to a neighbour, Yamamoto learned that his grandfather had planted a bamboo grove decades earlier for exactly that reason, knowing that someone in the family would one day need to build more barrels.
For each kioke, Yamamoto searches in the grove for just the right shoot, cuts it and shaves it down to make elastic strips that he slowly weaves into braided bamboo hoops. These cylindrical hoops are then hoisted atop the barrel and carefully hammered into place to prevent any liquid from seeping out.
Since 2013, Yamamoto and his colleagues have constructed 23 barrels, but he hasn’t kept most of them. As word of his quest to revive kioke craftsmanship spread, Yamamoto has started receiving orders from other fermented food producers across the country. “When these three people [at Fujii Seiokesho] retire, they won’t be making barrels anymore, which means I’ll be the only person left who can make them,” he said.
by Eliot Stein & Mari Shibata, BBC | Read more:
Image: uncredited
