In Motion: You Say Kombucha, I Say Kom-Boo-Cha

If you consider yourself a or regular, a little bit of a hippie, or a health-food geek, you’ve probably heard of a fermented tea called kombucha. Perhaps you’ve bought a bottle at the grocery store, or even whipped up a batch yourself.

I’m not sure I fit into any of the above categories, but as an athlete and trail runner, I have plenty of friends who do. Through them, I’ve picked up tidbits here and there about kombucha love, and the supposed health benefits the beverage offers. I heard wails of protest when Whole Foods temporarily took kombucha off the shelves last year (due to concern over the level of alcohol content; they’ve since remedied the problem and returned kombucha to the shelves). Kombucha even warranted a mention in the recent “Whole Foods Parking Lot” parody video.

Curious about whether kombucha warrants the devotion some fans lavish upon it, I decided to investigate the tea drink. It became clear quickly that as much as some love kombucha, others turn up their noses at fermented tea. When I posted a question on my Facebook page asking if anyone had made their own kombucha, replies included “you mix together equal parts nasty and disgusting,” “gross,” and “what is that?” But others volunteered information and professed that they or loved ones regularly brewed their own kombucha.

I decided to call a veteran kombucha cook. Edmonds resident Janice Carr started drinking kombucha a decade ago. A few years ago, she decided to try making it herself. She has since taught kombucha workshops and introduced countless others to the beverage. Carr also holds a degree in nutrition from Bastyr University.

One of my main questions for Carr was whether fermented tea really has health benefits. Like kombucha appreciation in general, the topic seems to bring contrary opinion. Carr believes the bacteria helps the digestive track.

“Every culture in the world uses some kind of fermented food because it’s so good for you,” Carr said, ticking off kimchi, injera bread and sauerkraut as examples.

I asked others the same question. The Whole Foods checker said she makes her own kombucha all the time and is convinced it aids her gut. Friend, coach and sponsored ultra-runner Matt Hart told me that he’s not sure, as any supposed health benefits are anecdotal and not backed up by research.

I went to the Mayo Clinic to see if the medical research group had any stance on kombucha. The website said that all existing reports of health benefits from drinking kombucha have been based on personal reports and lab and animal studies. Since no human trials on the fermented tea drink have been reported in major medical journals, the Mayo Clinic’s stance is that there is no direct evidence that the beverage boosts health.

The Mayo Clinic’s website also warns of possible upset stomach from drinking kombucha. Indeed, Carr told me she doesn’t drink it as regularly because she began feeling a tightening in her gut. Hart said that if he consumes too much kombucha, he develops sores in his mouth. Other kombucha fans, however, told me they guzzle the drink regularly with no ill affect.

Making the drink on your own could also have other side effects, I learned. Carr, who used to have four or five batches going at the same time, said the fermented tea carries a distinctive smell.

“People would come to my house, and it would hit them,” she said.

I decided to brave any possible odors and stomach aches and make kombucha myself. The brewing process, I learned, is very simple. It requires some patience (the tea must ferment for two to three weeks before drinking) but not many ingredients. The sole tricky part is acquiring the starter–a bacterial mass that allows the fermentation process. Those who regularly brew kombucha end up with new starters from each batch, and often give them away to others who want to make a batch.

Carr wasn’t currently making kombucha, so I couldn’t nab a starter from her. Instead, I headed to Whole Foods and purchased a $30 kombucha-making kit. It came with a large glass jar, tea, sugar, fabric swatch, rubber band, and kombucha starter. (The starter resembled a jellyfish-like pancake enclosed in plastic.) Not the cheapest way to make kombucha, but definitely time-efficient for those on deadline.

The process proved extremely easy. Dump tea and sugar in the jar and then dissolve in boiling water for 20 minutes. Add cool water and the kombucha starter, cover the jar with cloth and a rubber band, and set it aside in a warm, dark place for seven days.

Since I didn’t plan far enough in advance for my deadline, the kombucha jar remains in its den. According to the kit, I’ll begin tasting it regularly after seven days, which will commence this Saturday. The instructions recommend bottling the kombucha for drinking after another week or two, when a vinegar taste replaces the sweetness.

According to Carr, cooks can get creative at the end of the kombucha-making process. If you prefer a sweeter drink, don’t let the tea ferment for as long. Those who want a more biting, vinegar taste should allow the kombucha to age for more time. Carr likes her kombucha somewhere in the middle, with a bit of fizziness to the drink. Once you separate the tea from the starter, you can add juices or other flavors.

I have yet to try my homemade kombucha, and I’ll be curious to see if I’m a fan. Carr likens the finished product to a sparkling apple cider.

“It’s really refreshing,” she said.

Carr’s partner and Patch columnist Larry Vogel, on the other hand, piped up to tell me that he doesn’t share her opinion of kombucha.

“I never acquired a taste for it,” he said. “It’s very bitter.”

Hart loves the taste but admits friends have occasionally taken a sample swig and wrinkled their noses. He has weaned himself from a daily kombucha diet after growing weary of the $3 per bottle price tag that comes with many pre-made versions of the drink.

“I have one as a treat now and then,” he said.

I’m looking forward to sipping my own creation in a week or so, and providing my own rating of kombucha.