Son-Mat: A Hand-Taste Journey into Fermentation and Data Representations
When dining on pizza or burgers with my French friends, I often preamble with, “Before we dig into this pizza, I want to warn you that I'm a hands-on eater.” The necessity of cutlery for foods I considered perfect for hand consumption was a genuine culture shock to me. Maybe my love for eating with my hands is why I favor tacos over sopes, regard the combination of Ethiopian injera as both utensil and plate as a stroke of culinary genius, and why I felt immediately at ease using my hand as a spoon for couscous on a Couscous Friday in Morocco.
This preference extends to my baking practices too. When baking sourdough, the thought of using a mixer never even crosses my mind. There’s something deeply therapeutic about eating bread that’s been kneaded by hand - it feels like the food carries a part of you, it tastes like you.
A term that resonates with me is son-mat, a Korean word meaning “hand-taste.” It describes the synergy between the organisms in your ferment, and the organisms on your hands. They mingle and unite to create a unique taste - your signature taste.
During the process of kneading sourdough or mixing ferments, your hands are not only touching but also tasting. They can indicate when the bread is kneaded enough, or if the sauerkraut is sufficiently limp for jarring. With fermentation, your senses and instincts guide you in determining when your ferment is perfect or when it's gone off.
Nevertheless, as a data visualization engineer, I’ve felt compelled to merge these two passions. But the challenge lies in determining what data to collect and what questions to ask. In my own fermentation practice, I collect data about the ferments I make, their ingredients, fermentation duration, and how much I enjoy them. However, this feels like an incomplete archive of my creations.
On a recent trip to Japan where I was able to be the fermentation otaku that I am, I met Kohei Ito, a researcher who aims to create healthy cities by cultivating beneficial bacterial species. He studies 'fermentationscapes' - the entire fermentation environment from the microbes in the air to the fermenter's skin to the microbes in the ferment itself. Indeed, time, temperature, and humidity indicators are really only responses for the microorganisms that are at play. These are tools we use to collaborate and communicate with each other.
I've at times doubted that taking data to represent fermentation is a pale attempt to force two passions together when they are best to be enjoyed alone. Do we need to visualize fermentation and what value would it bring? I sought answers from fellow fermenters and 'professional fermenters' like my hero, David Zilberman. The consensus was that while data can be useful for selling products and ensuring health standards, intuition and senses are vital for creating a product that pleases the senses.
At a glance, sensory experience and data representation may seem polar opposites. However, when combined, they offer a holistic understanding of fermentation. They validate each other, with sensory experiences confirming data patterns and data providing a scientific explanation for those experiences. Intersecting between science and art, data representations can evoke an emotional response to the factual data, adding a deeper dimension to our understanding of fermentation.
In a related experiment I conducted, which I wrote about in Encoding Fermentation: a Multisensory Approach to Understanding Fermentation Data, I discovered that sensory and 'objective' data can harmoniously coexist. I enrolled friends to taste a sauerkraut every day, rate its flavor (salty, sweet, sour). I then sketched the fermentation process using sound, gestures, and data visualizations that mapped the microorganisms to fermentation time.
A fascinating project in the intersection of data and fermentation is the Nukabot, a communication robot developed by Ferment Media Research, led by Dominique Chen. The Nukabot uses microcontrollers embedded in its body to relay data about the fermentation process of the nukazuke, or rice bran pickles. Simply ask, "Hey Nukabot, how's it going?" and the robot will respond in Japanese or English, telling you whether the nukazuke are ready.
The Nukabot is not just about data. Its design also offers a visual representation of the fermentation process. The first version of Nukabot was housed in a wooden barrel, echoing the traditional containers used for fermenting nukazuke. The latest model is made of porcelain, symbolizing the delicate nature of the microorganisms involved in fermentation and underscoring the need for careful handling.
Much like the Nukabot, my aim is to make the unseen seen, to reveal the symbiotic relationship we share with microorganisms. And in my view, the most effective tool to express this relationship is with data representations.
A newsletter about sensory sketching, and representing data with all our senses.