{"id":3470499,"date":"2018-02-13T10:19:19","date_gmt":"2018-02-13T10:19:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.resilience.org\/?p=3470499"},"modified":"2018-02-13T18:25:10","modified_gmt":"2018-02-13T18:25:10","slug":"dark-kitchen-making-friends-microbes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/stories\/2018-02-13\/dark-kitchen-making-friends-microbes\/","title":{"rendered":"Dark Kitchen: Making Friends with Microbes"},"content":{"rendered":"

This week we continue our Dark Kitchen exploration of\u00a0food and eating in times of collapse. For our second course in the series Mark Watson interviews Norwegian artist Eva Bakkeslett about the ancient and modern language of fermentation.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\"Eva<\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s\u00a0the next big thing,\u2019\u00a0said Alexis,\u00a0and handed me a jar of home-made\u00a0kimchi<\/i>.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u2018Is it safe to eat?\u2019\u00a0I asked,\u00a0nervously peering into\u00a0the\u00a0pungent\u00a0and compelling\u00a0Korean\u00a0ferment.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It was a very modern reaction: industrially processed, refrigerated,\u00a0microbe-free and squeaky clean (dead) is good. Everything else is\u00a0dangerous<\/i>.<\/i>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

For thousands of years the arts of fermentation have transformed and preserved raw food in cultures across the world. Yet\u00a0even though\u00a0some of our strongest and most loved flavours\u00a0\u2013\u00a0coffee, chocolate, cheese, salami,\u00a0olives, as well as\u00a0soy, miso and tempeh, wine and beer \u2013 are still alchemised\u00a0via\u00a0the\u00a0life-death-life process\u00a0of bacteria and yeasts, live, fizzing\u00a0vegetables\u00a0can be\u00a0a challenge.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It was reading\u00a0Sandor\u00a0Katz\u2019s encyclopaedic\u00a0The Art of Fermentation<\/i><\/a>\u00a0that turned things around and got me hooked,\u00a0with its\u00a0hands-on approach to reviving the practice of fermenting just about everything.\u00a0The house\u00a0started filling\u00a0up with\u00a0bubbling\u00a0Kilner\u00a0jars\u00a0of fruit and\u00a0flowers and\u00a0vegetables\u00a0\u2013\u00a0mead\u00a0elixirs<\/a>\u00a0in the summer,\u00a0kimchi<\/a>\u00a0in the winter\u00a0\u2013\u00a0as\u00a0my distrust\u00a0gave way to bold,\u00a0and delicious,\u00a0experimentation.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Eva\u00a0Bakkeslett\u00a0is an artist, teacher and microbial cultural revivalist from\u00a0Northern Norway. I came across her work with sourdough cultures and kefir in Lucy Neal\u2019s\u00a0Playing for Time: Making Art as if the\u00a0<\/i>W<\/i>orld Mattered<\/i><\/a>. Later we met and she gave me some\u00a0Ivan Chai<\/i>\u00a0(an intense\u00a0black tea of fermented rosebay\u00a0willowherb\u00a0leaves)\u00a0made by wildcrafting colleagues\u00a0\u00a0in Russia.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I wanted to ask\u00a0Eva about\u00a0how she got into\u00a0fermentation and microbes,\u00a0and how they relate to current planetary, ecological and social conditions.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

MW:<\/b>\u00a0What\u2019s going down in your \u2018dark kitchen\u2019 right now, Eva?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>EB:<\/b>\u00a0Well, I\u2019m tending to about six different ferments, so loads of little creatures are living on my kitchen bench: very old Scandinavian\u00a0r\u00f8mmekolle<\/i>\u00a0ferments, various\u00a0kombuchas<\/i>, Bulgarian yoghurts, kefir from the Caucasus,\u00a0and\u00a0an amazing sourdough from Russia.\u00a0I\u2019ve also started fermenting earth, using a Japanese composting method called\u00a0bokashi<\/i>, where you add microbes to your food waste.\u00a0It speeds up the process and you get great compost for growing vegetables.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u00a0started with bread. I always say the bread was talking to me. Fermenting bread has a very quiet language of its own. Put your ear against the rising dough and you hear these clicks and bubbles. I really wanted to learn about this extraordinary\u00a0language. I wanted to befriend these guys. So it all started through language.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When I was growing up we fermented milk and bread, so when I started discovering the bacterial processes behind it I didn\u2019t really have to overcome any distrust. I just remember being delighted at discovering this\u00a0community of microbes\u00a0I could make friends with.\u00a0I started making\u00a0kombuchas and vegetable ferments, then\u00a0explored\u00a0the\u00a0rather funky\u00a0outer\u00a0edges, like\u00a0fermented shark in Iceland or kimchi with fish.\u00a0That really tests the friendship \u2013 can I really be friends with somebody, you know,\u00a0that<\/i>\u00a0funky?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>MW:<\/b>\u00a0In\u00a0Playing For Time<\/i>\u00a0you discuss rootlessness, and the relationship between\u00a0place,\u00a0belonging\u00a0and fermentation. How can remembering the stories behind fermentation reconnect us?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

EB:<\/b>\u00a0For some years now I\u2019ve been exploring this\u00a0yoghurt-like\u00a0Norwegian milk ferment called\u00a0r\u00f8mmekolle<\/a>.<\/i>\u00a0In my childhood everybody fermented it\u00a0\u2013\u00a0in certain areas people wouldn\u2019t have survived without it. And the culture that develops between the place where the bacteria come from, and the material you ferment, in this case milk, and the humans that then share the culture, makes you very rooted to a particular place.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We now know from neuroscience research\u00a0that\u00a0there\u2019s a huge connection between\u00a0the\u00a0bacterial flora\u00a0in our guts\u00a0and the way we think\u2026 so if everybody in a particular village is eating the same\u00a0r\u00f8mmekolle, you\u2019re sharing that microbial community within your bodies; people would somehow be bonded through bacterial flora within a community, and to the place. And this was happening all over the world.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Also, people would closely guard their ferments and bring them wherever they went. A family from Finland emigrating to America, say, would dry their milk cultures on handkerchiefs, put them in their pockets and set off. When they settled, they\u2019d\u00a0put their handkerchiefs\u00a0in\u00a0milk and\u00a0revive the bacterial culture.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Nowadays, with\u00a0everyone\u00a0constantly\u00a0moving around\u00a0and\u00a0not connecting to places, we often feel fragmented. One way of rooting yourself is to befriend the local bacteria\u00a0by\u00a0growing vegetables and connecting with the soil. Ferment those vegetables and you\u2019ll definitely communicate with the microorganisms\u00a0in that particular place!\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And the further you go into it\u00a0the more\u00a0you get excited about the taste, texture,\u00a0colour\u00a0\u2013\u00a0all the aesthetic elements of food and place.\u00a0It\u2019s a very rooting experience, as well as\u00a0an\u00a0antidote to industrialised\u00a0food with its\u00a0processed\u00a0salts, fats and sugars:\u00a0you start reconnecting and engaging with your food, the seasons\u00a0\u2013\u00a0and time.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Fermentation has its own world and timeframe, and it can really help move you out of the hyped-up, driven pace of the modern world. You don\u2019t\u00a0even\u00a0have to think about it. The relationship with the microbes just has that effect on you.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When people say\u00a0they\u00a0don\u2019t have time for sourdough bread-making, I tell them it\u2019s about\u00a0working\u00a0with time, replacing\u00a0one way of thinking about time with\u00a0another.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I see three elements to fermentation\u00a0\u2013\u00a0<\/i>time, conditions and ingredients\u00a0\u2013\u00a0<\/i>and\u00a0the balance between those three. A vegetable ferment going for six months can be super-strong, a six-day one will be very mild. Time\u00a0sits in the taste. It\u2019s implied and embodied\u00a0in the ferment and your experience of it.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Like growing vegetables, where you can\u2019t rush your carrots, you can\u2019t work against the fermentation process,\u00a0you have to work with it. You\u00a0heighten your awareness of what\u2019s happening\u00a0and your relationship with time changes.\u00a0It roots you in the fabric of life.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

MW:<\/b>\u00a0How can we learn from microorganisms?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

EB<\/b>: Bacteria communicate with each other with an incredible alertness, and they\u2019re like magicians of adaptation. The hundreds of thousands of members in a culture\u00a0communicate\u00a0through this language called\u00a0quorum sensing<\/i><\/a>. And if something\u2019s not working they\u2019ll suddenly take a different course.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

At an earlier time on the planet, bacteria eliminated all their food resources. They had to invent a way of processing the sun and transforming it into a new life substance\u00a0through photosynthesis. I feel we can learn a lot from them, because we\u2019re very set in our ways. It takes\u00a0humans\u00a0a long time to change.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

MW:<\/b>\u00a0Right now\u00a0we seem to need more time\u00a0to get back on track with the planet, but don\u2019t seem to have that much time. Can humans both bring time into the way we go about things\u00a0and<\/i>\u00a0change swiftly enough?\u00a0<\/b>Also,\u00a0so many of our collective stories\u00a0seem outdated\u00a0and resistant to change. Does fermentation have a story to counterbalance that?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

EB:<\/b>\u00a0Well, we\u2019re generally so removed from natural processes and going so fast, it seems almost impossible to slow down to a pace where we can have a natural relationship with time.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But I think through a close relationship to bacteria and to our earth, without us thinking that we\u00a0have<\/i>\u00a0to change, it will happen naturally, through gentle action and collective absorption. If you create those relationships.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m fascinated by the sharing aspect of fermentation, when people give cultures to each other\u00a0\u2013\u00a0especially through milk ferments and sourdough.\u00a0There\u2019s\u00a0the sharing of the physical\u00a0substance with the bacteria, which keeps it going, along with the sharing of cherished knowledge. With that goes the\u00a0sharing of stories, which\u00a0accumulate within the bacterial cultures as people form their own relationship to them. Somebody gives you some, and it already has a story; it enriches your life, and\u00a0another layer of story\u00a0is added\u00a0to it. These\u00a0stories\u00a0create a different bond between people, the bacteria, and the\u00a0Earth itself.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Fermentation is a beautiful way of transforming the way we live and communicate with each other.\u00a0It\u2019s an incredible thing\u00a0that happens\u00a0when your kefir is\u00a0thriving,\u00a0producing more and more\u00a0grains,\u00a0and you\u2019re thriving from it, and\u00a0so\u00a0you go and meet your neighbour and tell them about kefir. Or like me you incorporate it into art events and share it publicly with people.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

My favourite Christmas card this year was from a lady who came to an event I held in England in 2012. I gave her some of an old\u00a0Romanian yoghurt culture that had travelled to a little Jewish caf\u00e9 in New York. She\u2019s been cultivating it ever since, and\u00a0there\u00a0it was in the photo, sitting\u00a0amongst her Christmas decorations!\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

MW:<\/b>\u00a0What kind of art do you do with fermentation?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

EB:<\/b>\u00a0A recent\u00a0exhibition<\/a>\u00a0I gave\u00a0in\u00a0\u00a0Bod\u00f8 in Norway\u00a0was with\u00a0r\u00f8mmekolle. It had disappeared, but I managed to find some eventually and I\u2019m cultivating and sharing it now in all my events. I gathered archive photographs of people\u2019s relationship to their milk animals.\u00a0Milk can have a bad reputation nowadays, but many\u00a0people have\u00a0traditionally\u00a0had a\u00a0close\u00a0relationship\u00a0not only\u00a0with their\u00a0cows,\u00a0but\u00a0also reindeer, buffalo, goats and sheep.\u00a0The\u00a0modern\u00a0milk industry\u00a0is another chapter entirely.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\"Sunday<\/p>\n

The\u00a0r\u00f8mmekolle\u00a0culture was very sociable.\u00a0On Sundays people would share a huge pot up in the mountains dressed in their finery.\u00a0I interviewed old people about their relationship to this ferment for a radio programme and video. So I\u2019m bringing\u00a0r\u00f8mmekolle\u00a0into the public sphere through\u00a0these\u00a0stories.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

This exhibition included\u00a0a\u00a0bucket of worms with scrap food\u00a0and\u00a0a video camera and microphone attached. You could hear the worms talking \u2013 they have an amazing language, and when they\u2019re happy they talk a lot. So I\u2019m sharing the wonderful world of fermentation in a bucket, in the production of earth through worms.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I often do talks about bacterial connections, starting with when the\u00a0Earth was formed,\u00a0and about bacterial language\u00a0\u2013\u00a0these\u00a0always\u00a0include some physical fermentation of milk or vegetables.\u00a0I\u2019ve\u00a0also\u00a0held a festival of different bread traditions. It takes different forms.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

MW:<\/b>\u00a0It\u2019s a lot about\u00a0what\u2019s worth keeping, isn\u2019t it, particularly now when so many things are disappearing? A kind of cultural preservation.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

EB:<\/b>\u00a0When you pay attention to these bacterial processes, you see we have to get to the roots in order to go forward.\u00a0 It\u2019s like etymology. Often a word will go astray and start taking on a totally different meaning. But once you start looking at the roots of the word you realise\u00a0there\u2019s something fundamental in here\u00a0that\u2019s been\u00a0lost.\u00a0The bacterial world teaches me a lot about the way forward, because it has so much to do with the essence of life. So that\u2019s the preservation part for me,\u00a0more to do with not losing contact with the processes of life than preservation.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

People\u00a0often go \u2018Eeeugh!\u2019 when they see a bucket of compost, or smell one of my stronger ferments. Many people live in a very clean bubble where life processes\u00a0can\u2019t come in. I think it\u2019s really important to stick our fingers in the earth, and for our kids to as well.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I bought\u00a0a piss bucket recently\u00a0and shocked my family: \u2018You\u2019re not going to make us piss in that are you?\u2019 they cried. \u2018Well, yeah,\u2019 I said, \u2018because piss is an amazing fertiliser, and nowadays we just think it\u2019s something horrible and smelly.\u00a0But it\u2019s\u00a0a life-giving property,\u00a0right here in our system,\u00a0and we just waste it.\u2019 I want to bring back into the life-cycle all those vital things we just keep getting rid of.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I like this idea of the uncivilised.\u00a0Many young people who come to my events are fed up with modern lifestyles. They\u2019re\u00a0get\u00a0really excited about hands-on life processes like fermenting. When I get overwhelmed by the horrors of our fragmented world, I\u00a0remember\u00a0so many\u00a0people\u00a0have a real\u00a0need\u00a0for\u00a0uncivilising, for seeing a different way. Things have been sterile for too long\u00a0\u2013\u00a0we need to get grimy again.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

MW:<\/b>\u00a0What about the future? Given our bodies are host to so many microbes, might we be our own microbial revolutions?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

E<\/span>B<\/strong>:<\/b>\u00a0Well,\u00a0the\u00a0current misuse of\u00a0Earth and its resources is leading us to disaster.\u00a0But\u00a0many small groups of people\u00a0are\u00a0experimenting in living and doing things differently. They don\u2019t believe in the predominant systems and want to uncivilise\u00a0themselves. So\u00a0from\u00a0that disaster\u00a0a lot of social fermentation\u00a0is\u00a0happening, bubbling in the corners, creating another type of atmosphere, temperature and timeframe\u00a0for\u00a0other\u00a0things to\u00a0blossom and thrive.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And I think learning about fermentation and bacterial communication, and\u00a0exploring\u00a0the way bacteria have adapted and survived, is a huge beginning.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The word\u00a0culture<\/i>\u00a0comes from\u00a0the Latin\u00a0cultivare:<\/i>\u00a0to prepare the ground for something to grow. The word is used for everything now, including TV\u00a0shows. But\u00a0its original meaning\u00a0implies a\u00a0sense of mutual nurturing:\u00a0we prepare the ground and the ground gives to us. And of course bacteria is alive, and makes up the earth, and us.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A Red Cabbage Kimchi \u2018Slaw\u2019<\/b><\/a>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\"Kimchi-Squash<\/p>\n

INGREDIENTS<\/b>\u00a0(Organic, local and home-grown vegetables if available)\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1 small red cabbage or \u00bd large one<\/i>
\n1 large carrot<\/i>
\nJapanese or daikon radish (<\/i>mooli<\/i>), equivalent size to carrot (optional)<\/i>
\nHandful<\/i>\u00a0chives or small bunch spring onions<\/i>
\n\u00bd cup sea salt (<\/i>not<\/i>\u00a0table salt)<\/i>
\n5 cups filtered water<\/i>\u00a0(ratio = 1 part salt to 10 parts water)\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1<\/span>\u00a0small or \u00bd large pear, peeled, seeded, chopped<\/i>
\n2 garlic cloves, peeled<\/i>,\u00a0 roughly<\/i>\u00a0chopped<\/i>
\n1 thumb ginger, peeled, cut into small chunks<\/i>
\n1 or 2 fresh red chillies, deseeded if too hot<\/i>
\n1 tablespoon raw organic cane sugar OR 1 tablespoon RAW honey<\/i>
\n\u00bd \u2013 1 small cup stock: liquid from 5-6 shitake mushrooms soaked in warm water plus 1 level teaspoon kelp powder (optional)<\/i>
\n1 dessert spoon Korean red pepper flakes\/chilli flakes OR level teaspoon smoked paprika powder<\/i><\/p>\n

Note: for some ferments I omit the red pepper\/chilli flakes\/paprika, and use one or two\u00a0homegrown \u2018Ring of Fire\u2019 chillies\u00a0in the sauce. This gives just the right heat, definitely hot without going into\u00a0overburn!\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

METHOD<\/b>
\nChop\/shred red cabbage. Remove hard centre and keep intact for use as plug in the jar.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Place shredded cabbage in a bowl with water and sea salt.\u00a0Stir and put plate on top of the bowl so all cabbage is submerged.\u00a0Weight plate down with something heavy.\u00a0Soak for 2 hours (at least), stirring and turning the cabbage thoroughly a few times.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Meanwhile soak five or six shitake mushrooms in warm water for 20 minutes.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Julienne carrot and daikon\/mooli.\u00a0(I often soak the carrots with the cabbage in the salt water.)<\/p>\n

Rinse cabbage a few times and let drain in a colander.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In a liquidiser\/food processor place pear, roughly chopped garlic, sugar\/raw honey, chives\/onion, ginger and mushroom and kelp stock (without the mushrooms). Blend to smooth sauce.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Place prepared vegetables in a bowl, pour the sauce on top and add red pepper flakes\/smoked paprika. Gently and thoroughly mix in all the ingredients.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Place \u2018kimchi slaw\u2019 in a clean jar (mason jars are great) and push down firmly. Fold a few outer leaves of the cabbage and cover the slaw. At this point you can put the cabbage heart on top to hold the vegetables down further. The vegetables should be submerged under the liquid. Close the jar, or cover with a cloth.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

IMPORTANT<\/b>: Keep in a cool\u00a0visible<\/b>\u00a0place. If you\u2019ve put the top on, you must\u00a0burp the jar frequently to prevent it exploding \u2014 seriously!\u00a0<\/b>You can start to eat this delicious \u2018slaw\u2019 after three days. Mine rarely last longer than a week before they are eaten up!\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Next course:<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

The Dark Kitchen series will run throughout February, but\u00a0will continue as an occasional series when the new-look Dark Mountain website is launched in April. If you would like to contribute in the future, do get in touch with a short description of your piece to series editor Charlotte Du Cann (charlotte@dark-mountain.net) Thanks all and bon appetit!<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

Images:\u00a0Eva giving a workshop on the art and culture of<\/span><\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/em>viilli<\/span><\/span>, Finish live yoghurt, at Halikonlahti Green Arts in Salo, Finland\u00a0<\/span><\/span>\u00a0(Photo: Tuula Nikulainen<\/span><\/span>)<\/span><\/span>;\u00a0sharing\u00a0r\u00f8mmekolle\u00a0in the snow, northern Norway, 1940s (archive photograph); fermenting\u00a0<\/em>pumpkin and red cabbage kimchi (photo: Mark Watson); Mark<\/em>\u00a0shaking it up at a raw food demo, Bungay Suffolk (photo: Josiah Meldrum)<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For thousands of years the arts of fermentation have transformed and preserved raw food in cultures across the world. Yet\u00a0even though\u00a0some of our strongest and most loved flavours\u00a0\u2013\u00a0coffee, chocolate, cheese, salami,\u00a0olives, as well as\u00a0soy, miso and tempeh, wine and beer \u2013 are still alchemised\u00a0via\u00a0the\u00a0life-death-life process\u00a0of bacteria and yeasts, live, fizzing\u00a0vegetables\u00a0can be\u00a0a challenge.\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":128238,"featured_media":3470500,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[213522,79719,213531,79720],"tags":[97757,103928,188200],"class_list":["post-3470499","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-inspiration","category-foodwater","category-food-water-featured","category-society","tag-culturalstories","tag-fermentation","tag-rebulldingresilientfoodsystems"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3470499","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/128238"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3470499"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3470499\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3470500"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3470499"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3470499"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.resilience.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3470499"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}