Dear Kombucha...

At first, I thought you were weird -- the odd duck of the beverage world. I mean, nobody hears "a drink produced by fermenting sweet tea with a culture of yeast and bacteria" and thinks "Oh YUM!" But after a little consideration, I thought, "Well, I like other fermented drinks, so why not give you a try?"

At first gulp, I thought you were a bit funky... and not figuratively speaking. You ARE a funky-tasting beverage. But I gulped down anyway, figuring your enzymes and probiotics would do me some good. After a few bottles, I started to appreciate those other ingredients with whom you were blended. Ginger, Turmeric, and Tart Cherry are a few of my favorites. These partners knock down your funk and replace it with zip and zing and pucker.

Now, as I enter my third week of gastronomic distress from a renegade chicken salad sandwich, I'm relying on your powers to refresh my intestines' ability to painlessly digest solid food. You and kefir have become the Batman and Robin in my fight against a no-joke parasite that steals my nutrition and also seems to fart a lot. Bam! Pow! Sock! Your PRObiotics dominate my gut's AMATEUR-biotics (on a good day).

You're not inexpensive, but then again, you're cheaper than beer, and we all know beer's price has never stopped me from knocking back a few. In fact, I'd be healthier and wealthier if I substituted a kombucha in place of Milwaukee's finest. (Sidebar: bars and restaurants, start offering Kombucha!)

I've become one of your biggest fans, so why do you tempt me to shake you before opening? Is this your idea of a joke? I mean, you're lightly carbonated, and we all know what happens when one shakes a carbonated beverage before opening, right? PFFFFFTTTTSSSSSHHHH!! You spray yourself everywhere. Oh sure, I often resist the temptation and gently turn and tap your sides gently first, trying to dislodge the sediment of probiotic and enzymatic goodness that lies solidified on your bottom, but it never fails: I overdo it. PFFFFFTTTTSSSSSHHHH!! Sprayed again.

Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. I'm now learning to open you first, take a drink, replace the cap, and then get jiggy with it. That seems to dislodge your good stuff at the bottom and keep the PFFFFFTTTTSSSSSHHHH!! factor to a minimum.

So anyway, keep fighting the good fight. I feel more parasitic flatulence coming on, so look up in the Gotham sky, the beacon is on. It's time for you to go to work and fight the evil-doing organisms in my belly.

Your pal,
Mike

P.S. - Any chance you've been honing your skills to take on another pesky microorganism?