It's been a long time coming—four months of fermentation, in fact—but my homemade garum, made under the supervision of the world's leading archaeological authority, is ready. And today is the day I'm going to taste it!
(I've got the phone in front of me, speed-dial set for 911.)
Before I try it—not that I'm delaying the taste-test, ahem—I'll tell you how I made it. (Garum, btw, is an ancient fish sauce that was used in almost all Roman recipes to add "umami" flavour.)
I started with whole Portuguese sardines, aka sprats...
Then I added salt, "Pope's Salt" from Cervia in #Italy, but any sea salt will do: 20% of the weight of the fish, or 77 grams. #garum
Then I added the salt to the fish after a couple of cuts with a sharp knife to expose the viscera... #garum
Challenge was replicating Mediterranean summer temperatures in Canadian winter.
Solution: (suggested by @fmedeats, cheers!) Use seedling mat with a thermostat.
The ideal temperature turned out to be around 31 degrees C.
Then I put the salted sardines in a Mason jar (Kilner jar to those in the UK), closed it, and put it on top of seedling mat in one of those insulated Coleman camping coolers to maintain a constant temperature. Put the cooler in a corner of the apartment, and forgot about it.
Within only a few days, the enzymes in the sardines' viscera liquefied the flesh. No water or brine was added—the fish just digested themselves.
Ancient recipes call for 3 months' fermentation (in open vats, under the Mediterranean sun); modern Asian fish sauces are fermented for 12 months+. I let mine go for about 3.5 months, with shakes of the jar every couple of days to keep everything mixed.
So this is what the sardines were reduced to after 3.5 months of fermentation: a creamy slurry with bones and scales visible. Question is whether the salt has prevented any toxins (botulism, anyone?) from developing.
I invested in a jelly strainer ($15 at the local kitchen store) And poured the mess into the fine mesh. Best done on the front porch—when the kids were at school! There's already been a lot of "Ewww! Gross!" over this experiment.
Drip. Drip. Drip. That’s liquid gold! #garum
My archaeological advisor in the UK suggested I rebrine the solids for a week to squeeze a "second extraction." I've done that, and got an equal volume of liquid out of it. Common practice among value-conscious garum merchants in 1st cent CE, apparently.
The resulting liquid—which the Romans more often called "liquamen" than "garum"—is very similar in colour to this colatura, an Italian sauce made from the drippings of salted anchovies. Colatura, though, isn't fermented (the fish are gutted before salting).
My advisor says the colour—a coruscating gold—is perfect. The smell is somewhere between colatura and Vietnamese nuoc mam. Intensely fishy, but not off-putting. So here goes...my wife has been advised, 9-1-1 is one digit away...
Here goes.
I'm waiting for the convulsions...waiting...waiting...
Damn! That is good! Salty up front, but with that deep-down umami. This is as good as the reconstructed Flor de Garum I had in Spain, better than most Asian fish sauces. Tonight I'm going to be busting out the Apicius to make some *really* authentic Roman dishes. Patina, anyone?
For more adventures in experimental gastro-archaeology, follow me at my *other* Twitter feed, @lostsupper.
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