The Kombucha Chronicles: Part I

When I read an article in the Washington Post some years ago about the trials and tribulations of brewing kombucha, I was fascinated. I began to buy bottles of kombucha here and there at the grocery store; it tasted strange and almost awful at fist gulp, but subsequent sips lead to utter delight. I drink it because I love the taste and the carbonation, but also because I prefer it over yogurt as a source of probiotics.

The smell of kombucha is best described in wine tasting terms: the bouquet is straight-up bread dough. It almost smells like sourdough starter, which is not the most appealing scent for something you're about to ingest. However, it doesn't taste anything like bread. It tastes tart and sweet and has better bubbles than a can of seltzer water.

Close-up of a SCOBY beginning to form in a jar of tea.

So what is it exactly? Basically, kombucha is what happens when a floating yeast and bacteria colony called a SCOBY (Symbiotic Colony of Bacteria and Yeast) sits in a vat of sweet tea until the tea becomes carbonated from all those microorganisms bumpin' and grindin' on each other.

Much like in the production of bread, yeasts consume the sugar in the tea and release gasses in the process. Acetic acid is produced by the bacteria in reaction to the alcohol created by the yeasts. This action helps the liquid maintain an acidity that bad bacteria and molds are terrified of! E.coli is not allowed to party in the pool with the SCOBY.

Kombucha originated in Manchuria around the turn of the century and quickly spread to eastern Russia. In Russian, it is called chainyj grib (чайный гриб), meaning "tea mushroom" or "tea fungus."  Like other fermented foods, kombucha contains probiotics, a.k.a healthy bacteria, which are good for the digestive tract. It also contains other nutrients like B-vitamins and vitamin C.

A recent trip to Austin inspired me to make some of my own home-brew. I had always been hesitant to get into brewing beer or wine at home because of the perceived difficulty and time involved in creating a successful batch. I didn't want to invest in brewer's yeast and the other accouterments required for making my own beer. Then I was enlightened in Texas.

Molly handling the SCOBY Mother!

My friend Molly, a writer living in Austin, had been brewing her own kombucha for a few months. Two giant mason jars filled with the stuff sit brewing on her kitchen counter at any given moment.

If you move to Austin, it's only a matter of time before you start getting tattoos and making your own kombucha. It's how you know you've arrived in society. Half of the bars in Austin serve kombucha on tap, alongside the beers, with the local Wunder Pilz brewery (kombuchery?) dominating the market.

Once I returned from the trip and started tabulating the dozens of dollars I had spent on bottled and on-tap kombucha in Austin, I realized that it is much more practical to brew one's own kombucha. Also, after being allowed the privilege of touching Molly's SCOBY (with well-washed hands) while a new batch was being made, I knew I had to create one of my own, if only to fondle it.


Stayed tuned for Kombucha Chronicles Part II: How to Brew Kombucha From the Dregs of a Store-Bought Bottle!