During lockdown, I started with a sourdough starter. A few years later came the kombucha experiments. Today, glass jars of fermenting cabbages dot my house like a museum of gruesome curiosities. This was how fermentation snuck up on me - what once seemed mysterious, or even dangerous, has become a bit of an obsession.

I used to think fermentation was beyond the home cook. The idea of letting wild bacteria transform raw ingredients into something edible felt like it should be left to professionals. But in Northern China, no professionals were needed. Fermentation was simply a necessary survival skill, passed down through generations to preserve food through harsh winters. From pickled root vegetables and fermented greens to cured meats and grain alcohols, almost everything was preserved in some way. While more sophisticated ferments like soy sauce and bean pastes came later, fermented cabbage remained the cornerstone of Northern Chinese cuisine – a technique that every household mastered.

When I bought Sandor Katz's The Art of Fermentation a decade ago, the world was just beginning to grasp what Chinese culture had known for millennia: fermented foods are crucial for our health. While doctors today recommend eating three fermented foods daily for gut health, China has been promoting fermented ingredients as essential to wellbeing for thousands of years. From kombucha and kimchi to fermented greens and pickles, these foods weren't just preservation methods – they were fundamental to Chinese cooking and health, as they remain today.

Use this suancai in Pork Braised with Sauerkraut or Fermented Cabbage and Pork Belly Soup.

Makes 1kg