Perhaps we are a bit delusional, but perhaps it is just the persistence of hope. I’m forever making lofty goals, and then watching them recede backwards to the horizon as others come looming up. I suppose I don’t mind terribly as long as I understand why things are slipping. I’m not okay with things slipping out of laziness, but busy-ness (as opposed to business?) is at least, in my book, forgivable.
Babies, careers, families, projects… I truly couldn’t be happier! Well… you could live three doors down again, that would be nice 😉
Speaking of pets, projects, and neglected dear friends, meet the monster.
That’s a gallon jar, by the way. This wee beastie is my kombucha mother. Hoisted out from her regal repose at the back of the countertop by your plea for a new mother (kombucha, of course) of your own. I’ve got a baby scoby for you, lounging on the countertop with a bit of fresh, sweet tea, recovering from long neglect before a quick trip over to your house.
I’m not sure if her immensity is truly coming through. Perhaps the addition of a banana for scale would help?
That doesn’t help at all. That’s a huge banana.
By way of introduction, I thought I’d post extremely briefly on my own personal Kombucha Practice. It’s not so much a beverage as a hobby and friend.
You’ll remember the winter I started with Kombucha, I think, I pestered you with questions and you encouraged me to dive right in. Dive, I did. I ordered a dried up scoby from Cultures for Health and promptly completely failed to resurrect it in the appropriate manner. I think I cooked it, inadvertently, with tea a bit too hot. Weeks of having a strange jar on the countertop followed, and Roman kept asking me what it was. Tea, but vinegary, I explained. He failed (and still does) to see the appeal. He likes kvass though.
Desperate, I went to Kowalski’s, got a bottle of GT’s Kombucha and tipped that in. Voila! Within a week I had a diaphanous whisper of a scoby at the top, and the (dead?) one halfheartedly hovering in the middle of the jar. I was enchanted.
I like my ‘booch sweeter than you do, and I sometimes do a secondary ferment with tasty additions to get a bit of fizz. I always come back to flat semi-sour kombucha though.
Couldn’t bear it while I was pregnant, and while I’m still breastfeeding, it’s got too much caffeine to drink. Hence, the neglect.
These days I make it with Yorkshire Gold, but I prefer PG Tips.
Five teabags plus four cups of water. Six minutes in the microwave together to get them boiling.
Half an hour on the countertop to mash (or steep), squish out the teabags, add a cup of sugar.
[Side note: Feeling very fancy here. Was worried I was going to drop my phone into the tea, attempting this VERY EXCITING action shot.]
Pour it over ice.
[Another action shot!! Didn’t drop the phone this time either.]
Fill it up the rest of the way with water. I use filtered water from the fridge. Not sure how the scoby would cope with our well water and its full complement of minerals
[I’m just showing off now. Didn’t even spill!]
Back in the jar with the scoby. Speaking of the scoby. Way too thick – very hard to peel apart, so I just bunged the whole thing in. You’re getting the one peeling I could get off it.
Then back in the pickle jar, and snugly tucked back in the corner of the kitchen. It’s winter, so it might take a couple of weeks to get going. I have a little jar heater I can dredge up, if I get impatient.
We’re having a cold snap right now. I was texting my cousins and was able to tell them it was -24 outside. Bit more impressive when you’re talking Celsius.
That’s your scoby in the pyrex on the right.
Speaking of resurrection – working on my Primal Cert again! Got one more module done last week, and am hoping for two more this week.
That oxtail broth looks amazing! How was it?
Love and hugs to you both and the kids,
J and the boys