Consider this:

Gotcha’ Kombucha?

I know I’m coming to the kombucha party a little late.

The first time I had this fermented, slightly vinegary drink was this past summer at my friend Liz’s farmhouse in Vermont. She handed me a tall glass of her homemade kombucha on the rocks, a handful of plump blueberries floating around in the tea-colored brew. “You’ll like it,” she promised, seeing the tentative look on my face.

I took a sip. It was a hot, humid day in the Green Mountain State. We’d just returned from a long sweaty hike, swatting away black flies and scrambling up steep rocks, so the cool, slightly carbonated liquid was refreshing. I liked it. The more sips I took, the more I enjoyed it. In fact, I drank a glass of icy kombucha every day for the rest of our stay, and I decided that upon my return to California, I’d figure out how to brew a batch for myself.

First things first: I needed a scoby. Officially known as a SCOBY, I had to get my hands on my very own Symbiotic Colony of Bacteria and Yeast. Like the yeast starter for sourdough bread, a scoby is the magical “mother” that transforms simple sugar and black tea into a tart and tangy beverage with a plethora of probiotics and that may (or may not) be the secret to a strong immune system, a healthy gut and maybe, just maybe, eternal life. (Kombucha fans are devoted, to say the least.)

I turned to NextDoor, our online community bulletin board and posted a message to see if anyone had a scoby to spare. Within a day, I had three responses. I arranged to meet a woman named Diane at her house the next afternoon. On my way over, I stopped at the hardware store to pick up a one-gallon Mason jar, the only piece of “equipment” required for making kombucha.

“Aren’t they pretty?” Diane asked me, pointing to two gallon-sized jars sitting on her kitchen counter, each covered with a paper towel and secured with a rubber band. I looked closer. Floating inside each tea-filled jar was an enormous, white, flat, round disc, each one about an inch thick.

“Are those the mothers?” I asked, a little nervously. Diane beamed.

“They are,” she said. “And my scobys have a real provenance. Do you want to hear?”

I sure did. Turns out Diane’s scobys came from Tassajara, the world-renowned Zen Mountain Center in California’s remote Carmel Valley. About a year ago, Diane told me, the beloved monk in charge of brewing kombucha at the retreat was ringing the gong for early morning meditation when he suddenly and tragically dropped dead. As grief spread through the community, devotees wondered, who will keep the kombucha going? In short order, members of the Tassajara community came from near and far to collect a scoby from the revered kitchen and keep this line (perhaps “lineage” is more accurate) of kombucha alive.

I was floored. “We’re scoby sisters!” I declared as Diane scooped out a mother from her jar and put it on a clean plate. I touched it. The scoby was cool, clammy and, frankly, a little jellyfishy. On closer inspection, I discovered it was made of individual, crepe-like layers. Fermentation works in mysterious ways.

Since that day, I’ve brewed half a dozen batches of kombucha, and I’ve come up with a recipe that I think is quite delicious. Friends and neighbors who have tried my kombucha all seem to agree – often to their surprise. I get it. I had no desire to even try the stuff until my Vermont pal handed me a glass. But now, I have to say, I’m kinda’ hooked.

If you hop on over to the recipe section, you’ll see how I make my kombucha. That’s right: The secret to health, happiness and fermentation, revealed right here. Want to join me in scoby sisterhood? Go forth, my friend, and getcha’ some kombucha.

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Cook this:

Strawberry Mint Kombucha

You’ve got yourself a scoby to call your own. Now you’re ready to start brewing. The secret to delicious kombucha that’s not a face-puckering vinegar fest? Infuse the beverage with your favorite flavors – mint, lemon, ginger, strawberry, mango and more. Goodbye, pucker face!

Strawberry Mint Kombucha In Ten Easy Steps

Equipment: A one-gallon Mason jar for brewing, plus 3-5 smaller jars with lids for storing the kombucha when it’s ready.

1. Pour one cup of white granulated sugar into a large (four cup) Pyrex measuring cup.
2. Add eight tea bags, then pour in four cups of hot water (it needs to be hot enough to steep the tea).
3. Stir the sugar until it dissolves completely.
4. Steep for 5-10 minutes, then remove bags and let the tea cool.
5. Add tea to the gallon jar and then add cold filtered water until the jar is about three-quarters full.
6. Add the scoby. Cover the jar with a paper towel or clean cloth napkin and secure with a rubber band.
7. Let the kombucha sit for 7-10 days on your counter, out of direct sunlight. It becomes increasingly vinegary over time, so taste a little around day seven or eight to see how you like the flavor.
8. When you think it’s ready, pour off all but two cups into smaller jars (Mason jars or clean jars from pasta sauce or the like is fine).
9. Add flavor! Here’s the fun and surprisingly delicious part. You can add berries (fresh or frozen), herbs (mint, basil) and even maple syrup to infuse the kombucha with all sorts of great tastes. My favorite: I add four or five strawberries, a small bunch of fresh mint and a splash of maple syrup. Another good one: A chunk of fresh, peeled ginger, a hearty squeeze of lemon, a sprig of mint and a splash of syrup.
10. Put lids on the jars and let the flavors infuse the kombucha for up to 48 hours before you refrigerate. Once in the fridge, the fermentation process stops.

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Read this:

Futuristic Violence and Fancy Suits by David Wong

(2016 Alex Awards winner)

Here’s a big shout-out to Victoria From Vermont for this week’s book review. Thanks, VFV!

Confession: I only grabbed this book because of the wacky title and the picture of the cat on the cover. I’m so glad I did because it was totally worthwhile. Futuristic Violence opens with Zoey Ashe being stalked by a technologically enhanced serial killer. Intrigued? It only gets better as Zoey travels to a wild, lawless, futuristic (or maybe not-so-futuristic) city in order to open her late father’s safe. Problem is, pretty much every gang, league, and psychopath in the city wants the contents of said safe. If you choose to dive into Zoey’s world, brace yourself for an action-packed thrill ride that flips between humor and horror as fast as you can flip the pages. Get ready, too, for futuristic violence, a parade of fancy suits and one very smelly cat, plus a thinly masked satirical commentary on our current society. I hope you’ll give Futuristic Violence and Fancy Suits a try. You may, like me, find yourself totally hooked.