D is for Daikon and Deadlines

Last night before we went to bed we watched the first snow flurries lit by a porch light giving the flakes the appearance of little spears of light. I was mesmerized by the patterns as they traced in the dark. The wind came in so many directions causing chaos every time the flakes seemed to settle into a downward fall. It reminded me of watching the sparks fly in all directions from a campfire when someone pokes the coals with a stick, except upside down. Like flames of a fire, I could have watched this for hours. This morning, the dusting is light but enough to bring that sense of quiet and peace, that is unique to a blanket of snow.

As I allowed myself to soften my eyes and watch the momentary lines, contours, and shapes tossed about by the shifting wind I was lulled into relaxation and the beauty of nature. But like the stirrings of the breeze on the little flakes my mind was jolted as I realized this is exactly how my current book project has felt.

To explain I have to share that for the last few weeks I have been in the copy-editing round of a book. This is the time when my emotions are all over the map, one minute like the snowflakes serenely taking the simple path gravity has designed. In these times, I think wow the copy editor is really helping this become a better book. Moments later that breeze blows the words I wrote up off the page as they settle back down they land in sentences that aren’t mine. The thing with fermentation is, I have never had a copy editor who fully understands the process I am trying to teach. This means not only are the sentences not something I would write but also in some cases the information is just plain wrong.

When this happens the trust between myself, the author, and this unknown person, the copy editor, is broken. Trust is crucial in most things, but as you can imagine in a project that is put out into the world in a public way, it is imperative. It makes my stomach turn when I find rewrites that had I not caught would be out there—erroneous. So, if we are thinking about our snowflakes, I am suddenly hurdling upward, off-balance, and away from the ground.

Right now, (well at this moment, happily ignoring my deadline for a moment as I write to you), I am deep into the recipe section. I honestly thought this would go quickly. The interesting thing about writing recipes in the context of fermentation is that there are different processes. For example, dry-brine vs adding brine, and so on but mostly recipes are about setting up a happy-microbes-environment, managing the CO2, and keeping everything under the brine. Since someone might dive into a recipe without reading the how-to part of the book, it all needs to be in each recipe. So how many assumptions can be made in regard to the instructions? All this is to explain that the editorial team and myself have to agree on a convention for each style of recipe. What we agree upon has to match the publisher’s guidelines or style sheets, because publishers want all of their books to look and feel a certain way, and my own sensibilities of what people need to know. And all the while understanding that each individual is going to read them differently.

I am seeing more clearly than ever word choices can change so much, even in something as seemingly simple as a recipe. This week I am trying to untangle recipes written in the agreed-upon convention that has been completely changed. I won’t go into all the details and how scrambled each and every recipe became. It is all very frustrating and Sisyphean. I know it will pass. It always does pass. It is in copy edit that I typically end up hating whatever the project is and at the photo shoot that I fall in love again…

Daikon fermented hearts — 💕

D is for Daikon

I have to say if I were to pick a runner-up to cabbage as far as fermentation versatility is would be radishes and more specifically daikon radishes.  If you have never fermented before they are a great starter vegetable. They are easy to ferment, unlike some other fussier vegetables.

Wait, Kirsten, you are asking what about the strong flavor? Or, I don’t like radishes.

Don’t worry, I promise, those strong spicy flavors mellow out, and in most cases disappear completely. Instead, think of daikon as much more like a crunchy bright base for any flavor you would like to layer on.

In fact, last spring we were asked to teach a class at a local biodynamic vineyard. The event was designed to help people understand how full circle farm and soil are to the fermentation of their wines. Part of the management of the soil was to loosen years of compaction with daikon radishes. Therefore, there were thousands of pounds of daikon between the vines. Farmer Garett brought in stacks on stacks of radishes and the class participants made 3 to 4 ferments each. The beauty was no two were alike.

The biggest challenge to fermenting daikon is the smell of radish fermenting. I am not going to mislead you here—the smell can be off-putting during active fermentation. Just like my editing process, it will pass. The fermentation works itself out but for those of you that have trouble getting past strong smells, it can be hard to convince your mind that these will be delicious. It is important to keep the CO2 moving this will help dissipate this scent quicker.

What do I mean by keeping the CO2 moving? Choose a fermentation style that releases the CO2 regularly. This might be an open-style ferment such as using a plastic bag as outlined here or an actual airlock.

Daikon’s versatility isn’t just in the spices you add to create your ferment. It is also in how you prepare them. They can be fermented whole, chunked and cubed, grated, diced, sliced…

No matter how you slice it… 😋

Simply changing how you prepare this vegetable will radically change the texture and flavor experience. If you haven’t played around with fermenting much daikon can teach you how you can turn this preparation dial to create ferments just the way you love them.

It is all about surface area. Each type of preparation breaks more or less of the cell structure and exposes more or less surface area directly to the microbes that ferment. You will find that grated shreds will have a stronger ferment flavor (which some people like to call funk) and acidity than pickled spears that are just slightly soured. This goes for all vegetables, but daikon is a wonderful way to play around with it.

In this week’s paid subscriber missive I will be sharing more daikon fun facts and two recipes: Rosemary Grapefruit Daikon Spirals and a Chunky Daikon Kimchi. So that you can experiment with this underappreciated vegetable yourself.

Calendar Update

I am excited to announce Symbiosis Tour 2023. Mara Jane King and I will be joining many fantastic fermenters in England and Ireland this June. First up will be a unique 4-day fermentation “bubble” with Kirsten Shockey, Mara King and Jo Webster in the beautiful and historic city of Wells, Somerset. If this is near your neck of the woods we will be diving into wild yeast vinegars, herbal vinegars, oxymels, kvasses, sodas, fruit wines, amazake and sake. Join us.