The adventures of kombucha - by Julie Morris
It’s brown, smells sour like vinegar, and has a slimy decrepit “mushroom” growth floating across the top. In short, it’s perfect.
After eight days of waiting, I officially harvested my first batch of kombucha, after a five year hiatus of doing the make it at home thing (and while also developing a very expensive store-bought habit in the interim). I won’t go into the details of why I stopped personally making this fantastic and easy elixir the last time, but let’s just consider those details to be white, have many legs, and reside in the creepy-crawly category. Yet with a new year waving its “fresh starts/new projects/whoohoo” flag, and a recession saying “maybe you shouldn’t spend $4 a day on a drink you can make at home for pennies,” I thought this would be the perfect time to try my hand at making my own kombucha once again.
To make my home-brew set up all the more official, I found this adorable, vintage Sun Tea jar — complete with sunshiny logo and cheery yellow spigot — that I happily overpaid for in hopes of housing my kombucha in the most hospitable (read: stylish) way possible. I’m pretty sure this first batch turned out so well solely because the booch was motivated by how totally and completely HOT it looked hanging out in that jar.
So now that I’ve got the first batch safely stowed for future enjoyment (the extra good kind of enjoyment that can only come from consuming something you made yourself), batch two is already set up and ready to rock. And I, satisfied, am ready to wait.