Why is natto suddenly so popular? How its health benefits outweigh the smell and taste
Sticky, translucent strings dangle from Wesley Smith’s chopsticks as the American tourist eats his natto, the loved-and-hated Japanese fermented soybean superfood going global one slimy mouthful at a time. The latest trade statistics show Japan’s exports of the highly nutritious gooey beans tripled
By Agence France-Presse

Sticky, translucent strings dangle from Wesley Smith’s chopsticks as the American tourist eats his natto, the loved-and-hated Japanese fermented soybean superfood going global one slimy mouthful at a time.
The latest trade statistics show Japan’s exports of the highly nutritious gooey beans tripled from 2017 to 5,248 tonnes (5,784 tons) in 2025, with China and the United States topping the list of destinations.
The delicacy infused with beneficial bacteria remains a traditional Japanese breakfast staple, but its pungent aroma, viscous texture and yeasty taste divide even its homeland.
“I thought it was a little funky at first,” Smith says during a lunch at Natto Kobo Sendai-ya, a Tokyo restaurant that offers all-you-can-eat natto – an idea of hell for some people, heaven for others.
But over the years, the mushy yellow-brown legumes “became an acquired taste like a strong cheese can, because you know how cheese can smell like dirty socks”, he says.
Recent years have seen natto join a series of fermented foods, from kimchi to kombucha, that have surged in popularity worldwide as Americans in particular seek better digestive health following the Covid-19 pandemic.
Regular consumption of the high-fibre, protein-packed snack is often linked to stronger immune systems, improved digestion and greater bone density.
In China, too, the trend towards “health-consciousness”, especially among the middle- and upper-income classes, is igniting interest in Japanese foods, according to the Japan External Trade Organisation in a recent report.
In Los Angeles at Japanese restaurant Suehiro, owner Kenji Suzuki has noticed more non-Japanese clients taking the plunge.
“When social media started talking about natto and that it’s a superfood, I think then more and more people wanted to see what it is, wanted to taste it – ‘is it as bad as people say it is?’” Suzuki says.
“Some people maybe don’t like it, but other people, you know, they love it,” the second-generation owner says.
Smith’s wife Maya Bourdeau likens natto to “natural wine” with “that slightly different taste”.
While she vigorously stirs her bowl of bibimbap topped with natto, Smith knows that this will only make it even stringier.
“Subconsciously, I didn’t want to have natto just dripping from my beard,” he says, laughing.
Whisking, Suzuki says, also “really maximises the sliminess”, which he believes is so off-putting for many Americans he doubts natto – for all its recent hype – will ever go mainstream.
“I can’t think of anything in American cooking that’s common with that slimy texture.”
But Daisuke Tsujimoto is all for it, having travelled hundreds of kilometres from Osaka to Tokyo to fill his boots at Natto Kobo Sendai-ya.
“It really is a food culture Japan can be proud of,” the 31-year-old says.
“I truly hope people around the world will continue to eat it.”
Aside from its supposed health benefits, natto – dubbed the “star student of pricing” – has long been loved in Japan for its affordability.
A pack of three natto cups – each 40 to 50 grams (1.4oz-1.7oz) – typically sells for around 100 yen (US$0.60) or less at supermarkets. Each usually contains little plastic sachets of mustard and soy sauce.
Even the perennial budget champion, however, has not evaded a “wave of price hikes”, says Yoshihiro Noro, former head of the Japan Natto Cooperative Society Federation.
This is because of shortages of naphtha – a by-product of oil – caused by the Middle East war, he says.
Noro sees the price rise as natto’s chance to outgrow its reputation as “poverty food”, deemed “unsellable if priced at more than 100 yen”.
“Very few foods can be called as truly healthy a superfood as natto is,” Noro says. “I hope an era will come when people will collectively see high-quality, high-end natto as worth shelling out their money on.”
And that is exactly what his company’s Kamakurayama Natto, touted as “extremely stringy” but minus “stinkiness and bitterness”, seeks to achieve.
At his factory west of Tokyo, workers in hygienic uniforms wash, steam and spray bacteria on soybeans that machines then meticulously assemble in cups, before fermenting them for 18 hours.
While around three times more expensive than average, Kamakurayama Natto has in recent years secured international orders including from Hong Kong, Shanghai, Singapore and even Norway.
“I’ve heard that in some countries, people have been told natto is good for their health, so they force themselves to eat it even though they strongly dislike the taste,” Noro says.
“But keep eating it, and you will definitely get hooked.”
