Cultivated over the centuries, it’s truly a cultured expression of the power of fermentation. It’s been woven into the culinary fabric of societies around the world, complimenting cuisines and adding evocative flavors that are as unique as the people who prepare them. There are parts of the world where a taste of the local soy sauce could be your sextant, an edible signpost revealing your position by a swirl and a splash- or maybe just reading the label. In Japan, it’s shoyu and tamari; China, jiang you; Korea, ganjang. When the flavors start to sidle from savory to sweet, with hints of anise, maybe some cinnamon, you’ve crossed over to kecap manis in Indonesia. What’s been missing in this gustatory mouth map is a soy sauce that places you in the West. We have mountains that capture the snow, feeding the underground rivers of spring water. We have deserts, once covered by ancient oceans, now desolate repositories of blinding salt pans. We have the Plains- miles of soybeans dropping off the horizon in all directions. With all the basic ingredients assembled, one can add a measure of the ingredients used by the cultures that founded, migrated, settled, and ate here. The result is a soy sauce with the flavors of Western culture and cuisine, encapsulated in a truly global elixir. This is what I want SoyOry to be, and I love what I’m making. I hope you love it too.