From the ‘flat and mild’ to one with ‘cheap’ Passiona candle aroma, in their seven-strong kombucha taste test Jess Ho follows their nose, tastebuds – and gut.
I have pushed my body to the limit in the name of food and drink. During restaurant award season, when I was food and drink editor of a lifestyle publication, it was common for me to eat multiple three-course dinners, five nights a week for several weeks; bar awards season meant visiting six bars a night.
The fatigue, the meat sweats, the hangovers, the foggy brain and indigestion are all a walk in the park when compared to the after-effects of taste-testing seven kombuchas in a row. My body has never felt more uncomfortable, tied up and messed around. It felt as if I was under attack by the bajillion organic bacteria that are supposed to be great for gut health.
I should have known. I used to brew my own kombucha with Taiwanese oolong tea, raw sugar, filtered water and ginseng. I learned the golden ratio of tea to water to sugar, how to taste when the first fermentation was ready, and to complete a secondary ferment. I also know that when you are drinking real kombucha (more on that later), 100mL is enough.
To judge these kombuchas, I scored them on aroma, flavour, texture and drinkability. This was a taste test where appearance did not play a role because, let’s face it, all kombucha looks like carbonated pee. A good kombucha should have an even and gentle effervescence from the secondary fermentation. This occurs when juice is added to the fermented tea and carbonation is naturally developed in a closed environment, such as a glass bottle.
As kombucha is a fermented product, it also means it is a living thing. Real kombucha is volatile and continually fermenting, which is why it’s generally found in the fridge. While the cooler environment slows down the fermentation, it doesn’t stop it. This is why kombuchas found on the shelf cause me to raise an eyebrow. Why aren’t those bottles exploding?
