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June 23, 2010

Okay so there are about two weeks of downtime between my month-long festivus of gin, elephants and border crossings that has just ended and the next phase of my life where I become a real life Anna Kendrick character, minus the Omaha.  Am I happy about this life change, wherein I cross the Styx from carefree, heavy drinking college student whose only aim is to graduate without having an affair with a professor (because my mother made me swear to do so because her roommate in grad school had one with a prof 30 years older and he ended it and the chick totally crashed and burned and probably works as a public middle school English teacher now) to a young, heavily drinking professional who number crunches and can no longer casually interject ‘heteronormative’ as a conversation stopper/punchline? Yes, yes I am because today I bought a new suit and oh hai disposable income, YOU will be going to a. my hair coloring upkeep, because red this dimensional requires the artistry of a certain gorgeous older hipster in Logan Circle, b. my accumulation of all things William Sonoma, c. an electric juicer, and d. the organic grapefruit to be juiced. Also, Hendrik’s gin.

But this post isn’t about my post-college trauma. I’ve got a job, and a new apartment, and a Kitchen Aid stand mixer, so I’m at a pretty solid place in my life. This post is about kombucha tea.

look at this guy

So this stuff looks pretty terrible, if you’re attempting to make it yourself to avoid “consumerism” and “dilution” and “contamination” and “e-coli”.  However, if you stick to the path of least resistance and constant refrigeration, this shit looks positively pneumatic.

sterilization. mmm

So it tastes sort of vinegary and dry, and it comes in a bunch of flavors, but I like it raw (surprising… no one).  It’s almost like sourdough bread, and is totally polarizing – I adore it. Two things to bear in mind:

1. It is fermented, so don’t shake it unless you want to get some hipster asshole at sweetgreen telling you not while shaking his head over his Ray Bans. Douche.  It won’t explode, but it’s fizzy, and also slightly alcoholic. Whole Foods doesn’t sell it at the moment since it’s reevaluating the alcoholic level in an attempt to define whether selling it as a tea and not as beer is actually doing harm to those 17 year olds who buy it by the dozen and shotgun them in the parking lot. Safeway, however, sells it still and it’s fucking awesome. Safeway rules.  Someone post about the new Safeway, because it rules. Dean & Deluca sells a shitty kind, don’t go to there, you’d think this would be surprising but generally the typical D&D customer lacks taste, or any reasonable sense of value, except when it comes to brownies because those things are fucking sick (AND GIGANTIC), and for $3.50 you had better fucking bet I’m going to eat one if not 5.   sweetgreen sells the Honest Tea version, which is delish, as is the Synergy kind depicted above (Ad fee? LET ME KNOW).

2. Kombucha fixes fucking everything. It’s full of probiotics and antioxidants and the nectar of the gods and probably vampire blood. I heard it can cure cancer. But, uh, WebMD says it also might kill you, so there’s that. And yet WebMD also consistently tells me I have gout when my mother assures me it’s just sinuses EVEN THOUGH I describe to her in detail the stabbing pains of all the tiny elves in my forehead with pitchforks and she refuses to send me prescription painkillers because it’s illegal in most states or whatever.

And it also costs roughly $4 a bottle which I calculated to cost roughly $1600/year if I am to drink one a day to sustain my lifeforce. This could be avoided if I decide to harvest (raise? nurture? bear and ignore until the age of 8 when it can mix me my afternoon highball?) my own kombucha. One person takes their kombucha thing (called a ‘mother’) and gives a piece of it to someone else who can start their own. People give bits of their mother away on Craigslist all the time. I could have my own mother.

I think I should leave now. PEACE.

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