renegade kombucha

or how I kombucha bombed my mom.

I love kombucha like a deity, no lie.  When the man left town last week, the only reason I let him take a 1/2 gallon of finished kombucha with him is because I love him.  If I didn’t love him and want him to live forever, he would not have gotten that booch.

Now, my mom is hanging out in remission land with her oral cancer.  It’s a weird kind of cancer.  It started out innocently enough as some spots under her tongue, but after 4 years and a bunch of operations, we crash landed in cancer-ville.  The interesting thing about this cancer is that all of her doctors (and she’s gotten second and third opinions) are in the wait and see camp.  She gets her tongue examined every 6 weeks or so and unless there is something, there is nothing.  It’s like, she doesn’t have cancer, until she has it again. Comforting.

A couple months ago I made her start drinking kombucha.  I don’t say “made” jokingly.  I brought her some and said “drink this, every day”.  But she didn’t really.  She thought it was going to help her digestion like immediately, but since it didn’t she had trouble buying in.  Then I got on her about it (dropped the “c” word) so she started and she likes it!  Whenever I see her, which is about weekly, I make sure to give her a 32oz jar if I have it.  Last week meant leaving myself without any more finished tea and two gallons brewing on the counter just mocking me with their sweet fermenty smells.  Jerks.

I should probably mention there is no ‘scientific’ proof that kombucha can cure a thing, least of all cancer.  But in my book, the healthier your body, the better off it will fight the big “c” so lets pull out all the stops, yes?

Last Monday I took the kids down for one last swim at Memere and Pepere’s and I brought a SCOBY with me.  I didn’t know if she had jars, but I was pretty sure she had tea and sugar.  A couple hours, two mason jars and two coffee filters later and she had a her own 1/2 gallon of booch brewing in one of the sweetest brewing spots – on the top of a wire shelf over her laundry, in the corner right near the back of her stand up freezer where it’s nice and toasty and she can brew year round consistently.  I’m kinda jealous.

I promised her she didn’t have to do anything and that in a week I would walk her through how to harvest her brew, start a new batch, etc etc.  Tonight she called and I had her start her new tea with e-mail instructions to follow tomorrow.  She seemed a little nervous, but she can totally do it (and when she tested her brew tonight, she loved it).

So whether she wanted to become a home brewer or not, she is now.  And I don’t have to share my booch.  Is that selfish?

Kombucha for everyone!


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