I'm from one of those families who don't allow soft drinks on the premises. But instead of overdosing on Coke the moment I moved out, I remained pious in my soft drink-free values. I am, however, a fan of a less-guilty fizz. The effervescence that comes with an allegedly artisanal soda water or a Sunday morning Berocca. Above all, I love kombucha.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
To curb my $5-bottle a day habit, I decided to brew my own. Despite never having brewed anything aside from an emotional storm, I attended a kombucha workshop at Canberra Environment Centre.
Jane McIntyre, a nutritionist who also teaches pickling at the centre, led our class of newbies. While all new to brewing kombucha, most were regular sippers.
One woman who suffered from severe irritable bowel syndrome noted that kombucha "works magic for her". Others simply enjoyed kombucha as a healthy alternative to soft drinks and a few drunk it as a mixer. McIntyre liked hers with a bit of gin.
McIntyre's jar of kombucha sat proudly on a table at the front. It looked akin to something from a horror film. Should Frankenstein’s head be floating in there?
Inside the jar is a pecan-coloured liquid with something fungal layered on top. McIntyre described the floating beast as a “gelatinous alien" which "looks a bit like snot". This was called the scoby, which is an acronym for Symbiotic Culture of Bacteria and Yeast - and not Sexy Clog of Bouncy Yes! as I had guessed.
Like me eternally pondering the original discoverer of blue cheese, one participant asked: “Who discovered the scoby?”
“Who knows,” McIntyre said. “It’s another secret of the universe, don’t dwell on it too much.”
McIntyre went on to speak about the scoby as if it were a sentient being, further fuelling its sci-fi/horror persona. She said: “it likes the tannin” and “this will keep the scoby happy”.
“Can you kill it?” one man asked.
“It’s really really hard. I’ve not fed mine for months and it won't die,” McIntyre said.
“If you want it to live, don’t keep it in direct sunlight.” Is the scoby a vampire?
For 20 minutes, the class capitalised on the fact that McIntyre was a nutritionist who specialised in gut health, launching questions about probiotics and "evil" gluten. I was pretty keen to avoid the reality of my carb-heavy diet, praying the class would steer back to the ‘shroom in the room: kombucha.
20 questions about FODMAPs later, we were back in the game.
“How can kombucha be healthy when we put so much sugar in?” one woman asked.
Prior to the class, we were asked to prepare a container of cold tea using 500ml water, 1/4 cup sugar and 1/2 tbs loose leaf black, green or white tea.
McIntyre went on to explain that the yeast feed on the sugar, turning it into carbon dioxide. The kombucha ends up being 1 per cent sugar, but she believes the effervescence tricks you into thinking it’s sweet.
One absolute party animal asked: “Can you make it super alcoholic by accident?”
While kombucha is fermented, the alcohol content typically ends up being less than 1 per cent.
The questions wrap and we add some scoby starter culture from her jar into ours. The kombucha would take five to seven days to brew in summer and two to three weeks in winter. So I set off into the night, ready for the long haul.
Over the next few weeks, I experienced what I imagine is the closest thing to pregnancy. Or a Year 5 science project. I watched as my scoby starter culture blossomed from a murky trail of snot into a floppy slime hat.
My friends, housemates, colleagues, sister and boyfriend recoiled in disgust when I showed them my kombucha in bloom. And they hadn't even smelled it yet! Weak. I would not be sharing my brew with them.
Call me clucky, but I was determined to grow my beautiful scoby to maturity. It was this prideful persistence which got me into trouble.
I left my kombucha brewing for too long. I just never believed the scoby had developed enough, so when I cracked it open two months later a nostril-burning vinegar stench erupted from the bowels of the jar.
My baby scoby was alive, but the tea was dead.
Canberra Environment Centre's next kombucha workshop is on November 20, 6-7.30pm. Tickets via Eventbrite. $25. Serena Coady was a guest of the centre.
