I can see how the spice routes carried flavors across continents, linking Roman garum to modern kitchens. Adding citrus and sea salt could honor the past while refreshing it. Just be careful not to overpower the umami—balance is key.

I tend to add things very slowly, a little at a time, tasting after each addition so I don’t lose the base flavor. I start with a small amount of the main ingredient—whether it’s garum, a tomato paste, or a miso—then I lift it with a touch of acidity, like vinegar or citrus, and finish it with a pinch of salt or a sprinkle of fresh herbs. I often look at how the ancient cooks would have balanced flavor, using spices to round out the strong umami, and I try to mimic that layering in a modern dish. It’s a quiet process, but it lets the story of the sauce unfold in the bowl.

I’ve always been drawn to the Roman garum itself, the way it was made by fermenting fish with salt, a humble yet complex base that flavored so many dishes. The story of that fermentation, the patience it required, and the way it was combined with herbs and citrus to lift its umami still sparks my curiosity. It’s a quiet reminder that even the simplest ingredients can carry a history, and that careful layering—just as you do with your cocoa‑tomato surprise—honors that past while inviting a new twist.