We are no longer drinking Kombucha. Actually I’m kind of assuming that we don’t have a Scoby anymore from the fact that we don’t drink Kombucha anymore…but his little house is still in our pantry. I guess he could still be in there…I should go look…
* * *
Well, that’s unfortunate. It appears that my wife had forgotten about Scoby #2 and just flat out let it starve to death. Peering into the jug it’s like the bottom is coated in black lava flow, like what you see on TV after lava has cooled? Yeah, it looks like that.
At least there are no worms.
AND my wife has just tasked me with exhuming the petrified body of our little dead Scoby. Its little jug-home has been ‘taking up too much room in the pantry.’
Indeed it has.
But you may be wondering at this point, after all that work to produce Kombucha, how could we reverse our position on this? Two words:
Let me enumerate the reasons we (all of us) love water Kefir more than Kombucha and why we were willing to make the switch:
1. No Needy Scoby – I think that this is a big reason. We already have three kids, we don’t need another mouth to feed, to protect from fruit fly inappropriateness, to be thinking about. It’s just easier this way.
Also Scobys are super gross.
2. MUCH shorter fermentation time to get your final product, like 2-3 days instead of a week or more. So, way faster to make more, much less work.
3. Tastes like soda, not vinegar.
That last one is the main reason I like it more: I will actually drink it.
Which is then also a big reason why my wife likes it more, because she just couldn’t get me to drink the Kombucha, no matter how brightly she colored it with berries. Sweetened with stevia, water Kefir is actually pretty amazing. I think eventually it will be a big seller. Tastes like soda AND good for you? Coke or Pepsi will have to get on this, once the government starts fat-taxing them. (It’s going to happen people, it’s just a matter of time).
So I have to say, when it’s all said and done, I don’t mind the yogurt / kefir blends, I don’t mind the water kefir, and as long as my brain is unaware of the brains I might be eating, you could say that I am happy.
Blissfully ignorant. And now to have my wife proof this chapter…
ME: “Wait, why are you smiling?”
WIFE: “What? Nothing, nothing…”
ME: “Did you put brains into the water kefir? DID YOU?”
WIFE: “No, no, don’t be silly…”
ME: (muttering) “Dang it, I knew that it was too good…must…repress…memories…”
WIFE: “Just don’t worry about it.”
ME: “Worry about what?” (smiling)
NEXT WEEK, ON THE CRUNCHY DUNGEON:
I’ve come to face this as a fact: When you’re crunchy it’s like you belong to some weird religion, with weird dietary restrictions, restrictions that your friends and family want to respect (hey, whatever you believe is cool for you, man) but are living in constant fear of offending…