Deep Dive: The Magic of Furu
A guide to the underrated ingredient: fermented bean curd
Hi! I took a little break over the last two weeks to spend time with my family, along with plenty of good food and beautiful weather (in Yunnan!). With tons of photos and notes, I’m excited to start processing everything once I return to Berlin and share with you!
The new year’s first post kicks off with another pantry deep dive. This is a series where I explore Chinese pantry staples, from doubanjiang, tofu, to preserved vegetables. You can find all previous ones here.
I’ve been working on this piece about furu for the past two to three months. After traveling and eating my way through southwest China in recent weeks, I couldn’t help but notice just how prevalent it is. At almost every produce market from Sichuan to Yunnan, vendors sell blocks of fermented, molded tofu alongside ready-seasoned furu. It’s spread onto grilled rice cakes, stirred into dipping sauces for hot pot, paired with fried tofu, or eaten straight with rice or congee.
It’s also one of those pantry staples I grew up with but only began to truly appreciate in recent years. Cooking with furu opened up a new world for me. I started adding it to meat marinades, stir-fry sauces, and braises, and even (experimentally) to cookies. The more I used it, the more I realized how great it is as a seasoning. If chili crisp has been crowned the Chinese ingredient, I’m happily manifesting furu as the next one.
What is Furu?
Known in English as fermented bean curd or fermented tofu, furu goes by several names in Chinese, including 腐乳 (fǔrǔ), 豆腐乳 (dòufu rǔ), 霉豆腐 (méi dòufu), and 卤腐 (lǔfǔ). It comes in small, creamy cubes packed in jars filled with brine or oil, with a texture similar to soft cheeses like ricotta. Its flavor is deeply savory and umami, with a gentle sweetness and a little bit of funk.
Originally, as a way to preserve tofu, furu has been produced for centuries. A written reference appears as early as 1610 in Penglong Yehua (《蓬櫳夜話》), a Ming dynasty text that describes fermented bean curd under the name haifu (醢腐). It also appears in early cookbooks such as Notes on Vegetarian Cooking (《素食说略》) and Xing Yuan Lu (《醒园录》) from the Qing Dynasty.
While regional variations abound, the process generally follows a two-stage fermentation. First, firm tofu is cut into cubes and left to air-dry, where it becomes inoculated, either naturally by airborne spores or intentionally with mold cultures (such as Actinomucor or Mucor). Home productions use specialized koji called furu qu (腐乳曲). Once a layer of surface mold develops, the cubes are submerged in a brine with salt, sometimes also with spices, rice wine, and other ingredients. From there, they age for weeks or months, developing their signature creamy texture and complex flavor. During fermentation, enzymes from molds and bacteria break tofu proteins down into amino acids, building furu’s deep umami taste.
In some regions, the unseasoned moldy tofu itself, known as mei doufu (霉豆腐), is sold widely and cooked as-is.
The Major Types of Furu
Furu comes in many regional styles, but it’s commonly grouped into four main categories: white, red, green, and flavored furu. If you’re new to furu, start with white or red—they’re the most versatile and easiest to find in Asian supermarkets.
Red Furu (红腐乳 / 南乳 / 红方)
Red furu is fermented with red rice yeast (红曲), which gives it a brick-red exterior. Compared to other types, it tends to be milder and slightly sweeter. It also adds a beautiful red color to dishes, so it’s often used in marinades. Well-known producers include Wangzhihe (王致和) from Beijing and Xianheng (咸亨) from Zhejiang.
Red furu is common across China but is especially popular in Jiangnan and Cantonese cooking, and in Guangdong, it’s often called nan ru (南乳). It’s used in marinades and braising sauces, like furu-braised pork belly and riblets, as well as in fried chicken (南乳炸鸡) and char siu. Some producers also sell the liquid version, nanru zhi (南乳汁), on its own.
In Chaoshan, it’s added to a sweet-salty pastry called furu bing, which inspired a cookie recipe here. In Beijing, it’s used in the dipping sauce for copper lamb hot pot, together with sesame paste and peanut butter.
White Furu (白腐乳 / 白方)
White furu is another popular style across China, with well-known versions from Guilin in Guangxi and Kaiping in Guangdong. It’s commonly used in braised dishes, vegetable stir-fries, and cold dishes, such as stir-fried water spinach (腐乳空心菜) and cold-dressed peanuts (腐乳花仁).
I find white furu especially good for stir-frying vegetables, as it melts nicely into the sauce. Dishes like choy sum, yu choy, water spinach, and pointed cabbage work particularly well. In Cantonese cuisine, chefs use this to braise fuzzy gourd (腐乳闷节瓜), so I can imagine it would work nicely on other gourds such as winter melon or zucchini.
Green Furu (青方 / 臭豆腐)
Green furu is often called stinky furu or chou doufu in Mandarin. It’s aged longer with the addition of salted water and a fermented brine (jiang shui, 浆水), which gives it a dark green surface and a pronounced stink. It’s most commonly eaten in northern China and parts of eastern China. While often served as a side dish, it also appears in dishes where the funky aroma is part of the appeal, such as stinky Chinese perch (臭鳜鱼) from Anhui.
I’m not very familiar with this type and bought a jar for research purposes. I’d say it’s not for the faint of heart—much more pungent than the “stinky tofu” you’d usually find as a street food.
Flavored Furu
Spicy Furu (辣腐乳)
Spicy furu, either soaked in chili oil, a chili-infused brine, or coated in chili flakes, is common in southwest China, including in Sichuan, Yunnan, and Guizhou. Well-known production regions include Jiajiang(夹江) from Sichuan and Mouding (牟定) from Yunnan.
These are excellent as a side dish, stirred into dipping sauces for hot pot or fried tofu, or spread onto grilled rice cakes (erkuai, a Yunnan specialty). In markets, you’ll sometimes see the cubes sold coated in chili flakes or wrapped in napa cabbage leaves.
Spicy furu is fairly accessible in Asian supermarkets from brands like Lao Gan Ma (LGM’s version is mild in spices). You can use it much like white furu, but with a spicy kick. I especially like adding it to creamy noodle sauces with peanut butter and sesame paste.
Xiangzao Furu (香糟腐乳 / 糟方)
This style features white furu soaked in xiangzao, the fragrant lees left over from rice wine production. I first tried it while visiting a soy sauce brewery in Shaoxing and immediately fell for its strong wine aroma and sweet finish. Slightly darker than plain white furu, it’s often tossed with fried walnuts (糟方桃仁) or used similarly to white furu in sauces.
You can also find furu soaked directly in yellow rice wine, called zui fang (醉方), though both are quite rare outside China.
How to Use Furu
Furu is incredibly versatile. Eat it with rice, mash it into sauces, or cook with it like a seasoning. It adds umami, salt, richness, and even color, to dishes like char siu or fried chicken.
Most types of furu can be used interchangeably, except for stinky furu and dishes where you need the red color from red furu. Once opened, furu can last for months in the fridge. Just be sure to use clean utensils and check for any unwanted mold.
Here are a few ways to use furu:
In marinades for meat, like chicken or pork
In a cold dish dressing
In stir-fry sauces for vegetables
In braising sauces for pork or beef
In pastries, like this cookie recipe
In dipping sauces for Beijing-style hot pot, Sichuan lamb hot pot, and Guizhou sour soup hot pot, etc.
Furu also works surprisingly well in non-Chinese dishes. I’ve used it in peanut butter cookies and even in playful takes like this cacio e pepe from Calvin Eng and this carbonara from Kathy Yuan (I made it with homemade cured pork, it tasted great!).
Make a Compound Butter With Furu
One fun, low-effort way to experiment with furu is to mash it with butter. Inspired by a post from Lisa Lin and from a Shanghai restaurant, I started blending furu with butter, and it’s since become a staple in my kitchen. I use a ratio of about 1 part furu to 2–3 parts unsalted, softened butter, depending on how salty the furu is. White furu works best, followed by red and spicy furu (red takes a bit longer to blend).
Spread it on toast or steamed buns, or melt it over roasted vegetables like carrots.
Two recipes to start cooking with furu!
Tofu contains *isoflavone aglycones* which are a specialized subclass of flavonoids with enhanced bioavailability and health benefits. I am so glad someone wrote about it!!!
I just eat it as is. If you can handle blue cheese you can handle 腐乳 from the jar!