The Kombucha Kool-Aid

Recipes

Lindsay Lohan and Tina Fey drink it. The cast of Grey's Anatomy has cases of it shipped to their set. Health food stores sell 16-ounce bottles of it for a pricey $5 a pop — but people across the country are still buying the stuff. This might make sense if it were irresistibly delicious. But to me, kombucha tastes like vinegar soda with globules of phlegm dispersed throughout. Some argue that it's an acquired taste.

If you aren't acquainted, kombucha is a fermented tea that is said to put healthy bacteria in one's intestines. While none of the following claims have been approved by the FDA, some kombucha devotees say that it aids digestion, promotes immunity, and detoxifies the liver. It provides a hefty shot of B-vitamins, which are especially important if you're vegan. This probiotic-rich elixir may also improve skin tone, support weight loss, and even prevent hangovers.

Dannon's popular probiotic-rich yogurt, DanActive, offers the same healthy bacteria as kombucha, but in the worlds of kombucha expert and personal chef Elise Maiberger, the yogurt is also made with "a lot of sugar, not such great quality milk, and a lot of chemicals." If you want the probiotics without all those additives, kombucha is the answer to your prayers.

On a crisp fall evening, a group of 20- and 30-somethings (who look more curious than crunchy) are huddled around Chef Maiberger in the corner of a Brooklyn cooking store for a kombucha workshop. Wearing large silver hoop earrings and a nameplate necklace, her dark curly hair tied back in a bun, Maiberger stares intensely at a bug hovering near a jar of her homebrew.

"Fruit flies love this stuff," she says, in a soothing, Earth Mother voice. "Sorry, I don't usually kill things but — THWACK! — Don't mess with my kombucha!" She nails the imposter on the first shot and quickly launches into some fun facts about this strange brew and the benefits of making your own.

Home-brewing kombucha is much cheaper than buying it bottled. Once you've got your set-up, it costs only pennies per batch. First, you need a SCOBY, which stands for symbiotic colony of bacteria and yeast — and looks just as gross as it sounds. Perhaps to make us more comfortable with this bacterial mass, Maiberger refers to it as a little lady. "She" grows in slimy discs, with little dangly bits called "yeast beards" sprouting off her edges. She's often mistaken for a mushroom, but she's something else entirely. She is a living, breathing organism – more pet than plant. And when you dump her in a glass jar with "starter liquid" (that is, leftover kombucha from your last batch) and heavily sweetened black tea, she will grow a baby and turn the liquid into fresh kombucha. A hand-out describes kombucha as the "drinkable tea byproduct resulting from the fermentation process." After five to 14 days of fermentation, you can drink it right away, or age it for a few weeks in a sealed bottle to give it a fizzy kick.

One of the men in the class raises a heavily tattooed arm and says that his SCOBY took much longer to grow. Maiberger suggests placing his kombucha jar in a darker, warmer environment. "Bacteria really don't like sunlight. Think of a stinky gym bag. A warm, moist place is where they like to live," she says, matter-of-factly. "It's the intense funk that makes the magic happen."

The class takes a moment to consider the commonalities between a tea drink and a moldy gym bag. I exchange glances with the woman standing next to me and realize I'm not the only skeptic in the room. Real talk: The SCOBY is the stuff of horror movies, feeding off the yeast in the air, like a dollhouse version of the Thing. When you drink kombucha, you're sipping its excrement, aged to slithery, vinegary perfection.

But for some reason, I'm still kind of interested in trying it. I mean, the idea of cultivating a blob of bacteria brings me right back to third grade, when science seemed totally fun. A budding SCOBY offers the same gross-out factor as growing mold on a slice of bread or raising Sea Monkeys, but brewing kombucha has nutritional benefits, too. (And if you like to live on the edge, it also promises that alluring risk of potentially poisoning yourself. On that note, be sure to keep your hands clean when handling the bacterial mass. And if your kombucha seems extra-creepy, search the Internet for helpful advice before you consume your brew.)

Maiberger goes on to explain that you need to feed your SCOBY "cheap nasty white sugar" — agave nectar and other health-nut alternatives just won't cut it. And since honey has anti-bacterial qualities, it's obviously a no-go. I make a mental note to keep a squeezeable honey bear at my bedside in case my newly adopted SCOBY decides to rise from my cabinet and attack me in my sleep.

"As it grows, the surface of the SCOBY should look like pond scum, then pizza cheese. When she's ready, a beautiful smooth baby forms on top," Maiberger explains.

Tattoo Guy has a question about the reproductive process: "Does the mother have more superpowers than the babies? Because I had to euthanize my mother."

Maiberger asks, "Oh, was she old, or…?"

"Well, I made a mask of her — she made a great Halloween costume!" he replies.

Well, at least there's another use for those of us who can't stomach the tea. But, um, who would put a mass of bacteria on his face? The guy's skin looks fine, but even Maiberger seems a bit vexed by this.

The only other man in the class, a homebrewer who is expanding his horizons beyond beer, has a few scientific questions on increasing the effervescence of his kombucha. Apparently, adding a little lemon juice before aging might help him out.

Some of the women want to talk more about health benefits, but Maiberger isn't promising any miracles from this brew: "I basically just drink it because I like it. No other reason except that it's fun."

So, is kombucha-brewing a trend that will catch on? Well, Maiberger has hosted a series of sold-out classes here in Brooklyn, but this is a borough rife with vegans and yoga studios. I can't see America-at-large swapping Diet Coke for home-brewed kombucha. As someone who enjoys canning locally-grown peaches and preserving organic Meyer lemons, I'm a prime target for the kombucha bandwagon. But even for me, brewing the stuff is more fun than drinking it. I just consumed my first home-fermented cup, and while it tasted much better than the bottled kombucha I've tried, I wouldn't describe it as "delicious." And I think it gave me a little heartburn. Still, I'm hoping my first batch will taste better as it ages. I'm already fermenting my second jar, and when my SCOBY makes a baby, I'll be excited to give it to my friend who couldn't attend the class. But honestly, I'd be more inclined to drink the kombucha Kool-Aid if it went down a little easier.

Kara Zuaro is a Brooklyn-based freelance writer and the author of I Like Food, Food Tastes Good: In the kitchen with your favorite bands.

How to Brew Kombucha

1) Get a SCOBY and some starter liquid. If you know a kombucha brewer, he or she can hook you up. If not, you can order a pair for $25 from Kombucha.org.

2) Filter 3 cups of tap water (a Brita filter will do the trick), pour into a kettle or pot, and bring to a boil. Remove from heat.

3) Add 4 tablespoons of white sugar and 3 tablespoons of black or green tea to the water. Stir to dissolve the sugar and brew the tea according to taste. Strain out the tea leaves and set aside to cool.

4) Using a dish soap that doesn't contain any anti-bacterial agents (the Mrs. Meyers line is a good choice), scrub out a 1-quart (that is, 4-cup) mason jar. Then, rinse the jar with a little apple cider vinegar.

5) When the tea cools to room temperature, pour it into the jar. Then add the starter liquid and (with very clean hands) gently place the SCOBY in the jar.

6) Cover the jar with an unbleached coffee filter and secure it with a rubber band. (Putting the cap back on will suffocate your SCOBY!)

7) Place the jar in a warm, dark place where it won't get jostled around. While you're waiting for your tea to ferment, buy a bottle of Grolsch lager. Drink the beer, wash out the empty bottle, and save it for later.

8) After five days, use a straw or a spoon to taste a bit of the tea. When it is ready, it will have a vinegary bite, but will still taste sweet enough to drink painlessly. If it's still very sweet, try it again the following day. It could take up to 14 days to ferment.

9) When your tea is ready, take out the SCOBY, and set it aside with about 3 ounces of the tea.

10) Put a tablespoon of fresh lemon juice into your Grolsch bottle. Strain the rest of the tea (unless you like a little slime with your kombucha; some people do). Using a funnel, pour the tea into the bottle, and seal the top. Put the bottle in a dark place to age for three weeks.

11) Use the 3 ounces of tea that you set aside as starter liquid and begin the brewing process again. If your SCOBY has grown a baby, you can peel it apart from the mother SCOBY and start two new batches. (You should also have a little leftover tea, which you can drink to see what it tastes like before it ages.)

12) As your tea ages, it should become carbonated. When it's ready, chill the bottle in the fridge and then open it over the sink to avoid a kombucha explosion. Enjoy!

Photograph by Kara Zuaro, "The Scoop" photograph © Chris Gillard, "Plate" photograph from FoodCollection/Getty Images.