It was sleety and cold and miserable when I woke up this morning and the first thing I thought of was miso soup (it’s always coffee normally). It was a combination of needing something warm to pick me out of bed and something salty to get over an extra digestif at ROVI the previous night.
I also promised to discuss miso in Saturday’s post, so I guess it was on my mind as I was falling asleep…
Miso is such an unbelievably useful shortcut to flavour. Much like a good broth, it’s layered and deeply satisfying. Where a stockpot is grand and bubbling, miso is quiet, compact, and ready to step in when you don’t have hours to spare.
Peek into my fridge, and you’ll find a stash of what I like to call my ‘trick’ condiments—little jars and bottles with serious depth of flavour, perfect for days when I’m short on time (or haven’t frozen any stock) and want to cook something delicious without really trying. Most of them owe their depth to fermentation, and among them, miso stands front and centre. It adds an umami richness and a subtle funk.
What is it?
Miso is a fermented soybean paste. It’s made from soybeans, salt, sometimes a grain (like barley) and then inoculated with koji (a friendly fungus). Over weeks, or even years, the fermentation works its magic, breaking down soybeans into amino acids, fatty acids, and sugars. It’s salty, sweet and has a rich umami depth. It’s really good for you, full of probiotics that help digestion, support your immune system, and fight disease.
How to buy miso
In Asian supermarkets, you’ll often find miso in tubs and pouches, and these tend to have the most character. A slight graininess in the texture is a sign it’s been made with time and care. Some brands cut corners, rushing the fermentation process or adding unnecessary sweeteners to create an artificially smooth texture.
If you want the good stuff, speciality Asian supermarkets are my first stop, though these days, most supermarkets carry a decent selection.
Here’s what you’ll usually find in my kitchen:
White Miso (Shiro Miso): My everyday favourite. Light, slightly sweet, and perfectly balanced. It’s perfect for soups, dressings, tofu or seafood.
Red Miso (aka Miso): A bit bolder. It’s fermented longer, which gives it a saltier, deeper flavour. Ideal for hearty stews and roasted meats.
Yellow miso (Shinshu miso): A lovely middle ground. Bolder than white, but not as intense as red. It’s perfect for broths or dishes where you want a bit more complexity.
Don’t confuse them—these misos come in shades from pale gold to near black, and the lighter they are, the more delicate the flavour. For soups and stews, go for the red or yellow. White miso is best reserved for lighter dishes like dressings or baked goods.
In Japan, the type of miso often depends more on the region than the dish. In Kyoto, you’ll find a lighter, naturally sweet white miso, while Aichi is known for its rare, dark reddish-brown miso. In Chugoku, a barley-based miso is common, reflecting the region’s reliance on barley over rice. Each miso tells a story of its place.
How to use miso
We use it for three reasons:
To deepen flavours. A spoonful of miso brings a kind of savoury backbone to any dish, just like anchovies in a stew. I add it to anything from a quick pesto pasta to creamed spinach, and I’ve recently been eyeing a recipe for miso sausage rolls.
To balance sweetness. I use miso in desserts too. It adds a savoury note to caramel, chocolate, and even ice cream. It’s that perfect little twist that balances the sweetness.
To thicken and emulsify. Miso is the perfect natural thickener. I stir it into dressings or sauces, and it gives them a smooth, luxurious texture without the need for flour or cornstarch.
How to cook with miso
Never boil it–you’ll lose a lot of flavour and some of the health benefits (for those who want to dive a little deeper, Takashi Tamari explains why). Remember to keep your miso in a tightly sealed container in the fridge, and it’ll last for months (up to a year for red miso). Just keep an eye on the sell-by date, and steer clear of varieties with too many additives.
Our former fermentation lead at Rovi, Jono, now runs a miso business that’s worth exploring. He’s behind some of the varieties sold at Wylde Market, like marrowfat pea miso, pumpkin miso, and even organic rainbow badger bean miso. If you’re on the hunt for something a bit different, Jono’s the one to check out.
Three ways to finish a jar
Miso Soup. The classic. Just dissolve it in warm water or stock. Add tofu, wakame, or spring onions, or keep it simple—miso is comforting in its most basic form.
Miso butter. One of my go-tos. Mix white miso with butter (three parts butter, one part miso) and spread it on toast, or use it to baste a steak or roasted vegetables. Ixta’s miso butter onions from Flavour are also a must-try.
Miso caramel. Combine sugar, butter, cream and white miso. Use black barley miso if you want to recreate ROVI’s miso fudge.
For medical reasons, some of us must not use soy. Can you recommend substitutes for soy, including for miso? Thanks