Nahm’sayin? Kombucha is a Waste of Time, Money, and Taste Buds
Just Eat Some Expired Yogurt and Save Yourself the Trouble
I was so disappointed when I first tried a bottle of lemon and ginger kombucha.
I wasn’t always like this. At first, I thought kombucha was a drink only Amazonians drank after their early morning walk through forests without shoes or clothes, so as to become one with nature. The Amazonians would then drink their bacteria-filled juice and obtain special powers such as mind reading, being able to talk to animals, and communicating with the earth.
But actually, the first recorded use of kombucha dates back to China in 221 BC. It’s also known as the “Tea of Immortality,” which makes sense, because supposedly every sip of kombucha should feel like you have acquired a new soul.
I’d always wanted to try kombucha, but because of the high price, it was never in my budget. I decided I didn’t really need to try this juice of the bourgeoisie just yet.
I was so ecstatic to try out this new health fad, hoping it would cleanse me of any viruses the harsh Montreal weather could have cursed us with this winter.
And so, one day I was strolling around the aisles of Jean Coutu and came across that beautiful, tall, colourful bottle. It just had that look of something that was sure to revive my internal organs and give my body a fresh start.
Made up of only water, tea, sugar, and bacteria, I thought this would be the best way to truly take care of my body; I’d let the little army of germs clean my insides like the scrubbing bubbles from the bathroom cleaner ad with a bunch of little blue squid-like creatures wiping away all of the dirt in your bathroom.
However, when I poured myself my first glass of lemon and ginger kombucha, the clumps of weird alien residue at the bottom of the bottle came out all at once into my cup.
I stared at it for a couple of seconds and sulked. “Am I supposed to drink this?” I thought to myself. I took the glass and brought it up to my nose. I didn’t have very high hopes for the smell, but it was not at all what I was expecting.
I closed my eyes and accepted my fate. I’d done the deed of opening this $7 bottle of kombucha, and there was no going back now.
Nobody warned me kombucha is fizzy. Kombucha has no business being fizzy.
What’s worse, it tasted like someone took a bottle of Gatorade, boiled it, let it cool off for a while, and proceeded to carbonate it, all while adding a full cup of salt into the mixture.
Not only does kombucha look like it belongs in a science lab with a shelf of alien-like creatures floating in some liquid, but it tastes like it too.
If you’re looking to improve your health by drinking kombucha, don’t.
If you feel like you need to ingest millions of bacteria in a bottle of disappointment, just eat some expired yogurt and save yourself the trouble.
