Soy Sauce: Fishermen's Ferment – An Early Globalization of Flavor

 

Soy Sauce: Fishermen's Ferment – An Early Globalization of Flavor

Around 3,000 years ago, in China's Zhou dynasty, fishermen and coastal communities invented "Jiang." This was a smart way to preserve protein-rich foods like meat, fish, shellfish, grains, and vegetables. They mixed these with salt and let them ferment. The result? A thick paste, porridge-like in texture, bursting with salty umami taste. It kept food safe from spoilage during long sea voyages or humid storage.

Fishermen were key players here. Living by the East China Sea, they needed reliable food preservation for fishing trips and trade. Jiang became their secret weapon. As they sailed to nearby shores, they shared this technique. It spread like ripples in water – an early form of globalization before silk roads or spice routes.

By the Han dynasty, about 2,000 years ago, soybeans replaced pricier meats. Soybeans were cheap, plentiful, and easy to grow. During fermentation, a tasty liquid formed on top or was pressed out. This "Jiangyou" – literally "oil of Jiang" – evolved into modern soy sauce. It was lighter, pourable, and perfect for seasoning.

China perfected two main types: Sheng Chou (light soy sauce) for marinades and dipping, with its fresh, salty bite; and Lao Chou (dark soy sauce) for color and depth in stews, aged longer for richer flavor. These weren't just condiments – they were cultural bridges.

As Chinese fishermen traded fish, salt, and stories across seas, Jiangyou went global early. In Japan, it inspired Shoyu soy sauce, alongside Miso paste and sticky Natto beans. Korean sailors adapted it into Ganjiang soy sauce, Doenjang paste from Meju blocks, fueling their seafaring diets. Vietnam's coastal traders made Xi Dau soy and Tuong paste for fish dishes.

Southeast Asia lit up too. Thailand's Si-ew soy sauce and Taochiao yellow beans spiced street food. The Philippines turned it into Toyo soy and Tausi black beans for adobo. Indonesia sweetened it as Kecap Manis for sweets, or kept it salty as Kecap Asin. Fishermen in these regions tweaked recipes with local beans, climates, and tastes, but the core – fermented soy umami – stayed the same.

This wasn't empire-driven spread; it was grassroots globalization by everyday seafarers. Fishermen bartered jars of Jiang along trade winds, from Yellow Sea to Java Sea. By the time Europeans discovered soy in the 1700s, this flavor network had linked civilizations for millennia. Today, soy sauce seasons global tables, a testament to ancient East and Southeast Asian ingenuity. Next time you drizzle it on sushi or stir-fry, think of those pioneering fishermen – they bottled the sea's essence and shared it worldwide.