That was the state of my tongue after I had started my Kombucha culture from the Blob that day...and my eyes rested on the light colored fluid left in the glass container that didn't fit in the starting pitcher.
Well, in a moment of derring-do and recklessness that serves me well to get me on the road on 23mm wide wheels dressed in lycra, rolling next to tons of metal and steel on the road, I poured it over a glass of ice, and took a sip.
Fizzy, tangy, refreshing, it was delicious! A bit stronger than the bottled KT, but I liked it. No, I LOVED it.
And moments later, I realized my tongue didn't hurt.
Rather than a 'miracle' I figured it was the ph of the KT that agreed with my mouth. Curiously, I ate one of those evil Cadbury chocolate eggs that have been a nemesis to the extra rolls around my waist...and immediately, the stinging came back with a vengeance.
Are tongues like my inner intestines? Can my body signal good/bad so easily?
At any rate, I'm hooked.
(I'm careful, of course. Any sign of mold or an unhealthy scoby, it will feed my earthworms. But I think of it in line with canning, preserving, more traditional wines and beers, sauerkraut, chutney and kim-chi.)
For my frugal self, instead of paying $3-4 a bottle, I can have a gallon for pennies.
For my healthy self, it beats any kind of soda or iced coffee, and I already know it 'agrees' with my body.
For my inner mad scientist, it's loads of fun! Will the Blob climb out of it's jar and take over the Republic of Davis? Instead of test tubes, I play with nifty tea brewing gadgets than drain from the bottom, and mysterious herbs with names like 'Snow Leopard,' 'White Monkey,' or 'Temple of Heaven.'
|Blob Jr. says 'Hi'|