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“The soybean itself is a notably inauspicious staple food; it contains a whole assortment of "antinutrients" - compounds that actually block the body's absorption of vitamins and minerals, interfere with the hormonal system, and prevent the body from breaking down the proteins of the soy itself.”
― Michael Pollan, In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto

“American farmers produced 600 more calories per person per day in 2000 than they did in 1980. But some calories got cheaper than others: Since 1980, the price of sweeteners and added fats (most of them derived, respectively, from subsidized corn and subsidized soybeans), dropped 20 percent, while the price of fresh fruits and vegetables increased by 40 percent.”
― Michael Pollan, In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto

“These are some of my favorite smells: toasting bagel, freshly cut figs, the bergamot in good Earl Grey tea, a jar of whole soybeans slowly turning beneath a tropical sun.
You'd expect the latter to smell salty, meaty, flaccid- like what you'd smell if you unscrewed the red cap of the bottle on a table in your neighborhood Chinese restaurant and stuck your nose in as far as it would go. But real, fermenting soybeans smell nothing like sauce in a plastic bottle. Tangy and pungent, like rising bread or wet earth, these soybeans smell of history, of life, of tiny, patient movements, unseen by the naked eye.”
― Kirstin Chen, Soy Sauce for Beginners

“The miso store entailed much sampling. Although all miso consists of crushed boiled soybeans, salt, and a fermenting agent called koji, the types differ based on whether rice, wheat, or barley is added to the mix. The flavor and color of each style can also change, depending upon the amounts of soybeans, type of koji (made from either beans or grains, inoculated with the mold Aspergillus), and salt that are added, as well as how long the miso ages. Brick-red miso, for example, comes in both sweet and salty varieties and is made with either barley or a mixture of barley and rice. Because it tastes somewhat coarse, it usually seasons hearty dishes, such as brothy seafood stews. Similar in flavor is the chocolate-brown miso. Mainly composed of soybeans, it has a bold earthy tang best enjoyed in robust dishes, such as potatoes simmered with miso.
Shiro miso, or "white miso," is a Kyoto specialty. Smooth, golden, and quite mellow, it is said to have evolved to suit the tastes of the effete aristocracy during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. It is used extensively in Kyoto cooking, including tea kaiseki, and often comes seasoned with herbs, citrus, and mustard. Because of its delicate nature, it tends to be used as a sauce, mainly to dress vegetables and grilled foods. A saltier version appears most often in American markets.”
― Victoria Abbott Riccardi, Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto

“From Shanghai, Meyer had sent seeds and cuttings of oats, millet, a thin-skinned watermelon, and new types of cotton. The staff of Fairchild's office watched with anticipation each time one of Meyer's shipments were unpacked. There were seeds of wild pears, new persimmons, and leaves of so-called Manchurian spinach that America's top spinach specialist would declare was the best America had ever seen. Meyer had delivered the first samples of asparagus ever to officially enter the United States. In 1908, few people had seen a soybean, a green legume common in central China. Even fewer people could have imagined that within one hundred years, the evolved descendants of soybeans that Meyer shipped back would cover the Midwest of the United States like a rug. Soybeans would be applied to more diverse uses than any other crop in history, as feed for livestock, food for humans (notably vegetarians), and even a renewable fuel called biodiesel.
Meyer also hadn't come empty-handed. He had physically brought home a bounty, having taken from China a steamer of the Standard Oil Company that, unlike a passenger ship, allowed him limitless cargo and better onboard conditions for plant material. He arrived with twenty tons, including red blackberries, wild apricots, two large zelkova trees (similar to elms), Chinese holly shrub, twenty-two white-barked pines, eighteen forms of lilac, four viburnum bushes that produced edible red berries, two spirea bushes with little white flowers, a rhododendron bush with pink and purple flowers, an evergreen shrub called a daphne, thirty kinds of bamboo (some of them edible), four types of lilies, and a new strain of grassy lawn sedge.”
― Daniel Stone, The Food Explorer: The True Adventures of the Globe-Trotting Botanist Who Transformed What America Eats

“Hmm. A grilled miso rice ball and a grilled soy sauce rice ball...
But what is this covered in dried seaweed?"
"When we think about the rice ball and its connection to the Japanese climate and culture, the existence of fermented food is something we can't ignore. Eating fermented food on a daily basis is a unique trait of the Japanese culinary culture.
The most famous of the fermented foods are the soy sauce and miso. Seasonings that the Japanese diet cannot do without.
We coated one of the rice balls with soy sauce and the other with miso...
... and grilled them over charcoal."
"The slightly burnt scent of the soy sauce is so appetizing."
"The grilled fragrance of miso is irresistible to a Japanese person. And this we can only taste in the form of a rice ball too."
"Another fermented Japanese product that we must not forget about is natto. Natto is a little tough to put inside a rice ball as it is...
... so we've minced it along with diced green onions. It has been flavored with soy sauce and Japanese mustard.
And to add some punch to it, we coated the rice ball with roasted shredded seaweed. By shredding it, the flavor of the dried seaweed becomes far better than just coating the rice ball with a sheet of it.”
― Tetsu Kariya, The Joy of Rice

“Kinako is a powder made from roasted soybeans and used as a seasoning or ingredient of traditional Japanese sweets.”
― Tetsu Kariya, The Joy of Rice

“Hm. A dal bean curry, eh? It looks similar to Chana Masala, a Punjabi dish that uses chickpeas...
!
This viscous stickiness...!"
"It's Natto!"
Gooey texture and savory flavor are melding together inside my mouth! Was natto ever this delicious?
"Wait... this is no normal natto! Could it be..."
"Yes, sir. This natto I made by hand using charcoal smoke. It's charcoal-aged natto.
After I added the natto spores to a batch of soybeans, I stored them in an underground room. There I lit a charcoal fire and then kept the room at just the right temperature and humidity to ferment the soybeans.
As this process takes several days to complete, I prepared it ahead of time, over my summer break."
"The carbon dioxide generated by the charcoal fire impacts the maturation of the soy proteins. It gives the natto a richer flavor. It also halts bacteria death in the beans, preventing the typical smell of ammonia from developing!"
"Did you know all that?"
"I heard a little about it once. It's supposed to be a really hard process that takes loads of time to finish!"
"And she made it by herself?!"
"But that isn't all.
There's another flavor--- a deeper, more savory one that resonates across the tongue like a deep bass chord."
"Oh, that?
As a special hidden seasoning, I added shoyu koji."

SHOYU KOJI
Instead of salt, soy sauce is added to the koji bacteria and mixed with the rice until thick. Then it is left to ferment at a constant temperature for several weeks.

So that's the black stuff that was in that jar!
Shoyu koji has over ten times glutamic acid---an umami component--- than shio koji does.
I see. While the strong flavor of curry spices drowns out most other seasonings, shoyu koji's flavor is powerful enough to that it is instead a savory magnifier!
Her curry takes full advantage of her detailed knowledge of fermentation techniques! It is truly a magnificent dish!
"The creamy Japanese-style curry roux has blended in with the natto's gooeyness beautifully!"
"The mound of crisp, minced green onion on top is hard to resist as well!"”
― Y¨±to Tsukuda, ʳꪤΥ½©`¥Þ 7 [Shokugeki no Souma 7]

“Soybean flour?"
"Yes. Apparently he uses it to bind the hamburger. You know, just like in Tsugaru soba--- your hometown's pride and joy." Nagare produced a leaflet about the soft soba noodles that were a Hirosaki specialty.
Now that she knew why the hamburger steak tasted so familiar, Kana wrinkled her nose in embarrassment. Tsugaru soba was the most popular dish at the Takeda Diner---and the subject of most of the articles that were written about it.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes

“Dad, what was that soup you mentioned just now?" asked Koishi as she wiped the table down. "Kenoshiru, did you say?"
"Chopped vegetables--- daikon, carrot, and so on--- deep-fried tofu, and konnyaku, simmered in kombu stock. Apparently the trick is to mix in something called jinda--- mashed soybeans, basically--- right at the end."
"Why did you say that made her father a kind man?" asked Koishi as she made her way into the living room.
"See, the snow's so deep in winter up there that they can't pick the traditional seven herbs of spring," replied Nagare, folding up his newspaper and following her. "So instead of making seven-herb porridge on the seventh of January like everyone else, they make kenoshiru soup. A huge pot of it, which they eat right through until the middle of January. Apparently the original idea was to give women a break from working in the kitchen all the time."
"Hear that, Mum?" said Koishi, kneeling in front of the family altar. "Sounds like the real gentlemen are all up in Hirosaki."
"Hey, we're even nicer in Kyoto. Kikuko knows that better than anyone."
"You keep telling yourself that, Dad," said Koishi, her eyes opening slightly as she joined her hands together and prayed.”
― Jesse Kirkwood, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes