I didn’t want a SCOBY. But, in the ’90s, when kombucha was being promoted as an antidote to hundreds of health problems, everyone wanted to give me one. Back then, sharing your SCOBYS—the colony of yeast and bacteria from which kombucha grows—was a form of health activism. But, as home brewing got more and more popular, sharing SCOBYS became a burden: Everyone had too many!
Once, I relented and accepted a SCOBY. Peeking into the plastic bag, I saw something that resembled a waterlogged Portobello mushroom with gelatinous tentacles burgeoning from her underbelly. I drove the SCOBY to Venice Beach, walked to the water’s edge, held my breath, and offered her back to nature. Santa Monica Bay tugged her offshore, and away she floated, like a sea monster happy to return home.
It’s not that I wasn’t into healthy eating. A vegetarian since college, I ate all organic, whole foods, and I firmly believed in fermented foods and their probiotic benefits. But, while SCOBYs do produce probiotic bacteria, they also spawn yeast, and ingesting yeast flares yeast conditions: Candida albicans, candidiasis, thrush, indigestion, inflammation, foot fungus, skin rashes, vaginal yeast infections, and dandruff.
So, rather than kombucha, I make rejuvelac, a fermented lactobacillus beverage made from quinoa, which I learned about from
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