I make kombucha but I still pronounce it incorrectly.
“Kom-Boo-ka” I say. Kombucha enthusiasts are quick to say, “Ohhh, that’s great. We love “kom-boosh-a.”
Since it hit the mass market, we’ve enjoyed drinking kombucha but felt too intimidated to make it. This all changed when my cousin offered to send me a scoby.
“Sure!” I replied, thinking that if I actually had a real life scoby, I would get over my fear of kombucha-making out of obligation.
This was true.
Every once in a while my friend Beth publishes a “What’s On My Camera Roll” post. I get a kick out of the photos she shares along with their corresponding stories.
Now that we carry phones equipped with high quality cameras at all times, it’s effortless to snap a photo of whatever is amusing us at the moment. Here’s a glimpse into my past couple of weeks:
Update: Gyst closed its regular restaurant functions. We visited earlier this fall. While the food and beverages were excellent, the “no tipping” notes on the menu were gone and the prices were about the same.
At any moment I expected the bartender to tell Jake, “I’m sorry sir, but we have to cut you off.
“Can you get cut off at a kombucha bar?” I wondered, as he ordered another glass.
Jake’s best described as a beverage enthusiast. He loves all kinds of beverage, from coffee to tea to kombucha to beer. His favorite non-alcoholic drink is definitely kombucha, something I haven’t learned how to make yet. As long as we were at a fermentation bar, he wanted to try everything.