Summer Homebrew Recipe: Strawberry Kombucha

If I have one regret in writing True Brews, it's that I didn't discover the magical duo of ripe summer strawberries + kombucha until it was too late in the game to add it to the book. This combination is like kismet — it's just meant to be. It's fizzy and tart and sweet and juicy all at the same time. This is drink that (I'm convinced) will make kombucha drinkers out of the kombucha dubious.

Ever since strawberries started showing up again at our markets here in Northern California (the real ones), I've been making batches of strawberry kombucha nonstop. It's the perfect thing to do with those few over-ripe or slightly squished strawberries that inevitably come with every pint basket. Kombucha doesn't care if the strawberries aren't the prettiest in the bunch, and once you take a sip, you won't either.

Kombucha and ginger are old bffs, so I throw some into the jar when I have it. The ginger adds a warm, spicy note that, if possible, makes the strawberries shine even more. Try it both ways and see which you like better.

Also, I don't know how the weather is where you are, but my scobys are loving the warm weather — which at least makes one of us. I can see streams of bubbles filtering up through the layers of scoby and the sweet/tart/fruity flavor is spot on. My bottled kombucha is also fizzy to the max. Love.

Strawberry Kombucha
Makes 1 gallon

3 1/2 quarts water
1 cup white granulated sugar
4 bags black tea (or 1 tablespoons loose tea)
4 bags green tea (or 1 tablespoon loose tea)
2 cups starter tea from last batch of kombucha
1 scoby
1 pint strawberries, hulled and roughly chopped (about 2 cups)
2 tablespoons minced ginger (optional)

Bring the water to a boil. Remove from heat and stir in the sugar to dissolve. Drop in the tea and allow it to steep until the water has cooled.

Remove the tea bags or strain out the loose tea. Stir in the starter tea. Pour the mixture into a 1-gallon glass jar and gently place the scoby on top. Cover the mouth of the jar with a few layers of cheesecloth or paper towels secured with a rubber band.

Keep the jar at room temperature, out of direct sunlight, and where it won’t get jostled. Ferment for 7 to 10 days. Check the kombucha and the scoby periodically.

After seven days, begin tasting the kombucha. When it reaches a balance of sweetness and tartness that is pleasant to you, the kombucha is ready to bottle.

With clean hands, gently lift the scoby out of the kombucha and set it on a clean plate. Measure out your starter tea from this batch of kombucha and set it aside for your next.

Combine the fermented kombucha, diced strawberries, and ginger (if using) in a clean 1-gallon jar (or divide among smaller jars). Cover the mouth of the jar with a few layers of cheese cloth or paper towels secured with a rubber band. Keep the jar at room temperature out of direct sunlight for two days. Strain the strawberries and ginger from the kombucha and bottle. Leave about a half inch of head room in the bottles.

Store the bottled kombucha at room-temperature out of direct sunlight and allow 1 to 3 days for the kombucha to carbonate. Refrigerate to stop carbonation and then consume within a month.

Fall Recipe: Apple Cider Kombucha

The time has come for cider. Warm cider on chilly afternoons. Big gulps of cold cider after a long jog through the falling leaves. A splash of cider in a tumbler of bourbon. I don't really need to convince you on this subject, right?

Because I am a) still fiendish for cider right now and b) still loving my homebrewed kombucha like nobody's business, it seemed only natural to make a cider-riffic version of my favorite fizzy drink. I really can't think of a more perfect match than tart kombucha and sweet-sour apples. Throw in a few sticks of cinnamon and a hearty glug of maple syrup, and this is officially something special.

You could definitely make a shortcut version by mixing some cider into a glass of plain kombucha, but I really love using fresh apples. Play around with different varieties — tart and juicy Macintosh apples have been my personal favorite so far. This is also a good way to use up those last few bruised and battered fruits that have been lingering in the back of the fridge for too long. 

And because I know you were wondering: yes, try this with a shot of bourbon. Fall-time whiskey sour, anyone? Yes, please.

• New to Kombucha brewing? Check out this primer: How to Make Kombucha Tea at Home from The Kitchn

• Need a Scoby? You can find them online at Cultures for Health

Apple Cider Kombucha

Makes about a gallon (can be halved, as pictured)

14 cups water

1 cup white granulated sugar

4 bags black tea (or 1 tablespoons loose tea)

4 bags green tea (or 1 tablespoon loose tea)

2 cups starter tea from last batch of kombucha or store-bought (unpasteurized, neutral-flavored) kombucha

1 scoby

2 apples (pick ones that you like to eat)

2 cinnamon sticks

4 whole cloves

4 tablespoons maple syrup or honey

Bring the water to a boil. Remove from the heat and stir in the sugar to dissolve. Drop in the tea and allow it to steep until the water has cooled. Depending on the size of your pot, this will take a few hours. You can speed up the cooling process by placing the pot in an ice bath.

Remove the tea bags or strain out the loose tea. Stir in the starter tea. Pour the mixture into a 1-gallon glass jar and gently place the scoby on top with clean hands. Cover the mouth of the jar with a few layers of cheesecloth or paper towels secured with a rubber band.

Keep the jar at room temperature, out of direct sunlight, and where it won’t get jostled. Ferment for 7 to 10 days, checking the kombucha and the scoby periodically. It’s not unusual for the scoby to float at the top, bottom, or even sideways. A new cream-colored layer of scoby should start forming on the surface of the kombucha within a few days.

After 7 days, begin tasting the kombucha daily by pouring a little out of the jar and into a cup. When it reaches a balance of sweetness and tartness that is pleasant to you, the kombucha is ready to bottle.

With clean hands, gently lift the scoby out of the kombucha and set it on a clean plate. Measure out 2 cups of starter tea from this batch of kombucha and set it aside for your next batch. 

Dice the apples into small bits and add them to a clean 1-gallon jar along with the cinnamon, cloves, and maple syrup (or divide these ingredients evenly between smaller jars if you don't have a second 1-gallon jar). Pour the fermented kombucha over top. Cover the mouth of the jar with several layers of cheesecloth or paper towels secured with a rubber band. Keep the jar at room temperature out of direct sunlight for 2 days.

Strain and discard the apples and spices. Bottle the infused kombucha into two clean 2-liter soda bottles (or several smaller bottles). Leave at least 1 inch of headspace in the bottles.

Store the bottled kombucha at room temperature out of direct sunlight until carbonated, typically 1 to 3 days, depending on the temperature of the room. When the bottles feel rock-solid with very little give, they’re ready. Refrigerate to stop carbonation and then consume within a month.

Prepare your next batch of kombucha right after bottling the previous batch. Combine the reserved starter tea with a fresh batch of sugary tea, and pour it into the cleaned fermentation jar. Slide the scoby on top, cover, and proceed with fermentation.

Tasting Notes: GT's Cherry Chia Kombucha

My feelings toward this Cherry Chia Kombucha from GT's are not unlike my feelings for Jersey Shore: equal parts curiosity, fascination, disgust, and cringing awkwardness. This is cherry flavored kombucha...with things floating in it. I approach things in my kombucha that are not either a) the scoby, b) fruit, or c) bubbles with a healthy caution.

Have you heard of chia seeds? Apparently they are powerhouses of nutritional awesomeness. Enough omega-3s, fiber, and protein are packed in these sesame-sized seeds to make your mama happy. Flax seeds, take a hike.

Chia seeds also develop a viscous coating when mixed with liquids, hence the gravity-defying suspension act in this kombucha. This quality is put to good use in things like smoothies, puddings, and vegan baked goods. But something I enjoy swigging by the pint? Especially a fizzy drink like kombucha?

An informed opinion cannot be gained by looking at the bottle. Let's taste test!

Verdict: ...Meh?

The cherry flavor was excellent. Cherries are my most favorite fruit of all time and it's so disappointing when they are poorly represented in other forms. I'm happy to report that the cherry flavor here was tart and fresh and a just the right amount of sweet. Spot on. Now that cherries are nearly back in season, I will definitely need to try making some cherry kombucha of my own.

The chia seeds were...weird. You don't chew them, though instinct says that you should. There's just something deeply strange about taking a sip of something cold and fizzy, and then feeling hundreds of semi-gelatinous blobs slip over your tongue and down your throat before you have time to process what is happening. It's awkward in an alien invasion kind of way.

Bottom line: the flavor is great, but the odd texture just doesn't do it for me. Sorry, GT's. I tried. I love bubble tea, I love crunchy seed-filled muffins, I love kombucha. But I just don't love chia seeds here.

Have you tried any of these chia-filled kombuchas from GT's? What do you think of them?

The State of Kombucha Address

When last we spoke on this subject, I believe my kombucha was looking rather primordial. As you can see, things have improved.

For starters, I'm actually making kombucha. Like for-reals, drinkable, I-can't-believe-it's-not-storebought kombucha. It's tangy and fizzy, a bit spicy and a bit sweet. Guys, this stuff is tasty!

Even the scoby isn't too scary anymore. After the first few rounds, my two guys filmed over with this solid creamy-white layer that really looks and feels a lot like a thick piece of rubber. Totally not scary at all, cross my heart.

Every new batch of kombucha creates a new layer on top of the scoby. Scobys do wear out after a little while, so I've started peeling off the bottom-most layer every few batches.

I think the balance between the bacteria and the yeast has also evened out. At first, the bacteria was totally ruling the roost, but now the yeast seems to have elbowed in for some playtime of its own. It's pretty cool to see little bubbles fizzing up from the scoby when I check on it at night. The kombucha that I'm bottling is also getting very nicely carbonated, which didn't happen for the first few batches.

Man, I love this stuff. Not only the kombucha itself, but the whole process of making it. I wish I had a microscope so I could zoom in and see what all the little yeasties and bacterias were up to in there. I imagine them bustling around, excited to find new bits of sugar to eat and new flavors to create. I'm sure that's exactly what's happening.

Looks like Muney the Cat is also curious about what's going on in these jars. Or at least what could possibly be so fascinating that he's not getting any love right now. I'm thinking I'd better go take care of that, pronto.

State of the Kombucha: Thumbs up!

Hooked on the 'Buch

That would be 'buch as in "kombucha." Which is a fizzy, tart, mildly-fermented tea that was all the rage in China and Eastern Europe for centuries before landing squarely with the natural foodists and hipsters in the last few decades. What, you haven't heard of it? Trust me, you will.

People can get pretty evangelical about kombucha. They'll tell you that it strengthens your immune system, aids digestion, cures the common cold, makes your hair shinier, and graces you with feelings of bliss and tenderness toward your fellow human beings. They'll encourage you to drink it at least once a day for maximum benefit, and then they'll pour you a glass right then and there.

That may all very well be true, but I just think it tastes good. To me, it has the tart freshness of good apple cider with an edge of mild sweetness and an underbelly of earthier spice flavors. The actual tea-flavor fades into the background, and the fizziness makes it seem more like drinking very tasty soda or mild-flavored beer. It actually reminds me a lot of a Belgian lambic or gueuze, minus the alcohol. (Though, yes, kombucha does have a wee drop of alcohol after it's done fermenting. Shhh!)

My market research for the kombucha chapter in my brewing book has rapidly taken on a life of its own, such that I have moved up the schedule on developing those recipes so as to curb the constant flow of pennies from my pocket to GT's Synergy Kombucha HQ.

Kombucha Mothering

Step #1 has been to grow my kombucha mother, or SCOBY (short for "Symbiotic Culture of Bacteria and Yeast." Poetic, right?). The mother is responsible for making the magic happen in that bottle of kombucha, kind of a like a sourdough starter for sourdough bread. It looks like a wobbly flat pancake and has the consistency of fresh squid. Yum!

You can order fully-formed kombucha mothers online or beg them from a kombucha-brewing friend, but it's also pretty straight-forward to grow your own. You just need one last $3.50 bottle of GT's Synergy Kombucha and a batch of extra-sweet tea. GT's is a raw kombucha, which means that it still contains the live bacteria and yeasts used for brewing the kombucha (you can actually see them in the form of that little blobby thing awkwardly hanging out in the bottom of the bottle). With new food in the form of sugar, those bacteria and yeasts will gradually come together in a new SCOBY.

For the first few days, nothing happened. The jars of sweet tea sitting on my counter looked like...jars of sweet tea. Because I am a worrier, I worried. I fretted. I hovered. I had the following conversation with a kombucha-brewing friend over Facebook:

Me: So I'm in the middle of Day 3 of starting my own kombucha mother and don't see anything happening yet. Do you think I did something wrong? Or should I just sit tight and stop being so impatient?
Her: You need to give it somewhere between 7-14 days for the scoby to form. Cover it with a breathable cloth and put it out of your sight (and the light :).
Me: Yup, it's covered with a cloth and out of the light. So...I guess what you're saying is....I just need to sit tight and stop hovering.

And then, right around Day #6, it started doing stuff! And y'all....I'm not going to lie...it's "stuff" looks pretty gross. Like a primordial swamp in my Mason jar. Take a look at this thing around Day #8:

Who would ever think this could make delicious brews? Not me.

But I have faith. Faith that this swamp of bacteria and yeast will come together into a squid-textured pancake that will mother my sweet tea into tasty bliss-gracing kombucha. Will it work? Will Emma finally kick the GT habit and successfully complete a chapter of her book? Who knows what evil lurks in the jars of brewed teas? The Shadow knows... [cue music...fade to black...and end scene.]