Imparting a distinctly umami flavour, fermented fish as a seasoning agent can be found in sauces, pastes and powders, right from the Far East to the Middle East--with even the West having its fair share of iterpretations, some dating back to ancient Greek and Roman times.
By Raul Dias
Bereft of the brassy boldness of Barcelona and the hedonistic lure of Ibiza, Tarifa is a mere blip on Spain's tourist radar. But for the adventure sports traveller, this tiny town in the Adalucian province of Cádiz on the southernmost coast of mainland Spain is nothing short of an adrenaline-saturated Valhalla. But besides being one of the world's most popular wind sporting destinations, Tarifa zealously guards a secret close to its heart...
Garum. All along the sea shore west of Tarifa, among the ruins of the ancient Roman settlement of Baelo Claudia, one can find what used to be several factories for the preparation of garum or fish sauce, which was once the main industry of the town. Long before fermentation became the buzz word in cookery that it is today, the Romans, Greeks and Byzantines had perfected the art of manufacturing garum, a much-prized condiment used in dishes like lamb stew for example, as noted down in the ancient Roman cookbook Apicius compiled in the late 4th Century AD.
The Romans made garum by adding copious amounts of salt to tiny fish like mullets and fish intestines. All this, left in earthen jars to ferment and liquify for a few weeks. In fact, a few such garum jars were even discovered amidst the ruins of Pompeii! Once the mild-flavoured, natural amino acid monosodium glutamate (MSG)-rich liquid was siphoned out, the rest of the concentrated garum evaporated down to a thick paste that was called muria--an inferior product sold off cheap to the poor to add heft and flavour to their bland gruel.
In Cetara, the small fishing village in Italy's southern region of Campania, garum's modern-day interpretation colatura di alici is made much in the same way. This amber-hued seasonal sauce is made from anchovies fished off the Amalfi Coast between March 25 which is the Feast of Annunciation and July 22 that sees the Feast of Mary Magdalene. Doused over pasta and even over a pizza Napoletana, it is also not uncommon to see the local Cetaranians drizzle a few drops of the super-fishy colatura over their gelato!
Mahyaveh (or mehiawah depending on the region) is what the people of the Middle East call their version of fish sauce that has a distinctly spicy hit to it. In the southern part of Iran, especially in Larestan and Hormozgan, once fermented, the liquid of the sardines-anchovie-salt slurry is mixed with mustard and other spices, like cumin, coriander, fennel seeds, black pepper and thyme. In the Persian Gulf archipelago nation of Bahrain mehiawah forms an intergral part of the daily breakfast routine wherein breads like khubooz and the triangular donut-like zinjubari are dipped into a mixture of the fish sauce along with herbs like za'atar and sumac before eating.
The prowess of nam pla or Thai fish sauce as a flavouring agent is a well-documented one, as are its other South East Asian counterparts that show us the condiment's multi-faceted nature. Sauces similar to nam pla are nuoc mam (flavoured with red chillies and lime juice) in Vietnam, nam pha in Laos, hom ha in China, saeu chot in Korea and shitsuru in Japan.
Speaking of Japan, katsuobushi which is dried, fermented, and smoked skipjack tuna finds itself at the very epicenter of one of the country's most revered 'master stocks'--dashi. The umami-rich fulcrum of any soup, main dish and dipping sauce, dashi is made by steeping kombu (edible kelp) and kezurikatsuo (shavings of katsuobushi) in boiling water and extracting the decoction by passing it through a fine cheesecloth.
Though not in the same league as fish sauce, but fiendishly popular nonetheless, the Cantonese oyster sauce is more on the sweeter side with a thicker, viscous body to it. This highly-processed sauce is made from the extract of oysters and mixed with sugar, corn starch, caramel, colouring agents and even industrial MSG, in some cases.
And though they have their own version of a fish sauce called patis, the Filipinos place their beloved bagoong alamang above all else. More like a pickle, this fermented paste is made with shrimp or krill that are mixed with salt and the bright red yeast rice called angkak that hastens the fertmentation process, besides lending to it a lurid magenta pink colour. Almost every dish in the Philippines from the peanut-redolent kare-kare ox tail stew to the vegetable dish pinakbet has a splodge of bagoong added to it for both flavour and texture.
What bagoong alamang is to the Philippines, the crumbly, powdery belachan is to Malaysia. This supremely pungent, funky smelling condiment is made from tiny shrimp mixed with salt and then fermented. The paste is then ground into a smoother paste, then sun dried, shaped into blocks, and allowed to ferment again. Once ready to be intruducted to a host of preparations like curries and laksas, a piece of the belachan brick is chiseled off, wrapped in a piece of aluminium foil and roasted over a pan till crumbly to the touch. Exactly similar to the belachan in both preparation and use is the Indonesian trassie that can also be made from a species of small fish called ikan, besides oedang or shrimp.
Known by its moniker of 'Cambodian Cheese', prahok is in a league of its own as it is also a fish substitute, while being a flavouring agent at the same time. This greyish tinted fresh paste is made from crushed, salted and fermented mud fish and stands in for fresh fish when the supply of the latter ebbs during the rainy season. One of Cambodia's most popluar dishes prahok ang sees prahok mixed with minced pork, spices and herbs like lemongrass, wrapped in banana leaves and steamed into a meat cake of sorts.
What the Fish!?
Interestingly, two table-side condiments that are intrinsic parts of our diet today, have, or at least have had at some point of time, fish as one of their ingredients:
* Ketchup
Adapted from the recipe of the ancient 17th Century koechiap sauce that originated in the Hokkien region of southeastern China, and that was made from a mix of pickled fish, mushrooms, soy sauce and spices. It was only in the 20th Century that ketchup as we know it today began to have pureed tomatoes added to it, omitting the pickled fish.
* Worcestershire sauce
Created in the 1830s by John Wheeley Lea and William Henry Perrins, chemists from Worcestershire, England, the original version of the sauce (that's still sold under the brand 'The Original & Genuine Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce') was made from molasses, sugar, tamarind extract and anchovies among other ingredients.
(A shorter, differently edited version of this article appeared in the 24th February 2018 issue of the Mint Lounge newspaper, India on page 8 http://www.livemint.com/Home-Page/vviXPCrU0r99PZsovXqY4M/Somethings-fishy.html)
By Raul Dias
Bereft of the brassy boldness of Barcelona and the hedonistic lure of Ibiza, Tarifa is a mere blip on Spain's tourist radar. But for the adventure sports traveller, this tiny town in the Adalucian province of Cádiz on the southernmost coast of mainland Spain is nothing short of an adrenaline-saturated Valhalla. But besides being one of the world's most popular wind sporting destinations, Tarifa zealously guards a secret close to its heart...
Garum. All along the sea shore west of Tarifa, among the ruins of the ancient Roman settlement of Baelo Claudia, one can find what used to be several factories for the preparation of garum or fish sauce, which was once the main industry of the town. Long before fermentation became the buzz word in cookery that it is today, the Romans, Greeks and Byzantines had perfected the art of manufacturing garum, a much-prized condiment used in dishes like lamb stew for example, as noted down in the ancient Roman cookbook Apicius compiled in the late 4th Century AD.
The Romans made garum by adding copious amounts of salt to tiny fish like mullets and fish intestines. All this, left in earthen jars to ferment and liquify for a few weeks. In fact, a few such garum jars were even discovered amidst the ruins of Pompeii! Once the mild-flavoured, natural amino acid monosodium glutamate (MSG)-rich liquid was siphoned out, the rest of the concentrated garum evaporated down to a thick paste that was called muria--an inferior product sold off cheap to the poor to add heft and flavour to their bland gruel.
In Cetara, the small fishing village in Italy's southern region of Campania, garum's modern-day interpretation colatura di alici is made much in the same way. This amber-hued seasonal sauce is made from anchovies fished off the Amalfi Coast between March 25 which is the Feast of Annunciation and July 22 that sees the Feast of Mary Magdalene. Doused over pasta and even over a pizza Napoletana, it is also not uncommon to see the local Cetaranians drizzle a few drops of the super-fishy colatura over their gelato!
Mahyaveh (or mehiawah depending on the region) is what the people of the Middle East call their version of fish sauce that has a distinctly spicy hit to it. In the southern part of Iran, especially in Larestan and Hormozgan, once fermented, the liquid of the sardines-anchovie-salt slurry is mixed with mustard and other spices, like cumin, coriander, fennel seeds, black pepper and thyme. In the Persian Gulf archipelago nation of Bahrain mehiawah forms an intergral part of the daily breakfast routine wherein breads like khubooz and the triangular donut-like zinjubari are dipped into a mixture of the fish sauce along with herbs like za'atar and sumac before eating.
The prowess of nam pla or Thai fish sauce as a flavouring agent is a well-documented one, as are its other South East Asian counterparts that show us the condiment's multi-faceted nature. Sauces similar to nam pla are nuoc mam (flavoured with red chillies and lime juice) in Vietnam, nam pha in Laos, hom ha in China, saeu chot in Korea and shitsuru in Japan.
Speaking of Japan, katsuobushi which is dried, fermented, and smoked skipjack tuna finds itself at the very epicenter of one of the country's most revered 'master stocks'--dashi. The umami-rich fulcrum of any soup, main dish and dipping sauce, dashi is made by steeping kombu (edible kelp) and kezurikatsuo (shavings of katsuobushi) in boiling water and extracting the decoction by passing it through a fine cheesecloth.
Though not in the same league as fish sauce, but fiendishly popular nonetheless, the Cantonese oyster sauce is more on the sweeter side with a thicker, viscous body to it. This highly-processed sauce is made from the extract of oysters and mixed with sugar, corn starch, caramel, colouring agents and even industrial MSG, in some cases.
And though they have their own version of a fish sauce called patis, the Filipinos place their beloved bagoong alamang above all else. More like a pickle, this fermented paste is made with shrimp or krill that are mixed with salt and the bright red yeast rice called angkak that hastens the fertmentation process, besides lending to it a lurid magenta pink colour. Almost every dish in the Philippines from the peanut-redolent kare-kare ox tail stew to the vegetable dish pinakbet has a splodge of bagoong added to it for both flavour and texture.
What bagoong alamang is to the Philippines, the crumbly, powdery belachan is to Malaysia. This supremely pungent, funky smelling condiment is made from tiny shrimp mixed with salt and then fermented. The paste is then ground into a smoother paste, then sun dried, shaped into blocks, and allowed to ferment again. Once ready to be intruducted to a host of preparations like curries and laksas, a piece of the belachan brick is chiseled off, wrapped in a piece of aluminium foil and roasted over a pan till crumbly to the touch. Exactly similar to the belachan in both preparation and use is the Indonesian trassie that can also be made from a species of small fish called ikan, besides oedang or shrimp.
Known by its moniker of 'Cambodian Cheese', prahok is in a league of its own as it is also a fish substitute, while being a flavouring agent at the same time. This greyish tinted fresh paste is made from crushed, salted and fermented mud fish and stands in for fresh fish when the supply of the latter ebbs during the rainy season. One of Cambodia's most popluar dishes prahok ang sees prahok mixed with minced pork, spices and herbs like lemongrass, wrapped in banana leaves and steamed into a meat cake of sorts.
What the Fish!?
Interestingly, two table-side condiments that are intrinsic parts of our diet today, have, or at least have had at some point of time, fish as one of their ingredients:
* Ketchup
Adapted from the recipe of the ancient 17th Century koechiap sauce that originated in the Hokkien region of southeastern China, and that was made from a mix of pickled fish, mushrooms, soy sauce and spices. It was only in the 20th Century that ketchup as we know it today began to have pureed tomatoes added to it, omitting the pickled fish.
* Worcestershire sauce
Created in the 1830s by John Wheeley Lea and William Henry Perrins, chemists from Worcestershire, England, the original version of the sauce (that's still sold under the brand 'The Original & Genuine Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce') was made from molasses, sugar, tamarind extract and anchovies among other ingredients.
(A shorter, differently edited version of this article appeared in the 24th February 2018 issue of the Mint Lounge newspaper, India on page 8 http://www.livemint.com/Home-Page/vviXPCrU0r99PZsovXqY4M/Somethings-fishy.html)
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