☞ Man Cannot Live On Chunky Strawberry Toppers Alone.
It occurred to me earlier today that while I don’t consume a lot of meat, I do consume a lot of living organisms.
Like, a lot.
Like, billions.
A day.
If you’ll look here at the Rafferty Food Pyramid, you’ll see that it has a sturdy base consisting entirely of yogurt and bread. Above that, you’ll see the middle is made up of kefir and Jamba Juice, and the very top is a mix of kombucha, bacon, cheese, and frozen kefir (for dessert).
Apart from the cheese and bacon, the entire Rafferty Food Pyramid is made up of stuff containing (or made from) billions of microscopic organisms. “Bacteria,” if you want to get scientific. “Cultures,” if you’re trying to sound cultural.
Working our way down the Pyramid, kombucha is up on top. Which is to say, I don’t drink that much of it. I’ve talked about the origins of kombucha before (short version: some guy threw up in a bathtub), but what I didn’t mention were the ingredients. It’s quite frightening. I don’t want to ruin the surprise for you, though. Why don’t you hit up your local hippie grocery store, Whole Foods, or New Seasons, or Tom’s “Everything Is Sold Out Of Wooden Barrels” Fresh Market. I’ll wait. Now find the kombucha. Yeah, it’s over with the soy milk. Yeah, past the make your own peanut butter machine. You’re at the fromagerie? Yeah, you’ve gone too far. No, past the wooden barrel of pickles. Okay, you there? Pick up a bottle. Look at ingredients:
Bacillus coagulans GBI-30 6086: 1 billion, S. Boulardii: 1 billion.
So yeah. That’s a fancy way of saying you’re drinking a bunch of tiny little fellas mixed in with some sweat tea. Two billion little fellas, actually. Per bottle. Yeah. It’s kind of intense. And kind of gross.
The secret to kombucha is the kombucha “mother.” The mother is this sort of gelatinous blob that floats on top of the kombucha as it ferments. (People have made “kombucha leather” out of old dried up mothers, if that gives you a better idea of the mother’s consistency.) This mother gives birth to these billions of little fellas that then get mixed in with a tea of sorts (the sugar helps the fermentation process), bottled up and sold in stores. Or sold on craigslist. No, seriously, go on craigslist right now, and you’ll find people selling kombucha and kombucha mothers. It’s a thing.
(DISCLAIMER: raffertyesque.com claims no responsibility for kombucha mothers obtained in this fashion. If you insist on buying a kombucha mother off craigslist though, please do not go to the hippie’s house to buy it. Meet them in a public area during daytime and please use the buddy system.)
I have a love/hate relationship with kombucha. On the one hand, I drink it because it has to be extremely healthy for you. It’s in the “this must be the healthiest thing on Earth since it tastes so terrible” category of drinks. On the other hand, it tastes terrible, so I don’t drink it very often.
Kefir, kefir on the other hand, I could drink kefir all day. Sometimes I do.
Kefir is kind of fascinating. It’s another culture of sorts, but it’s far less gross than kombucha. It’s like a milky, drinkable yogurt, usually flavored with a berry of some sort. Unlike kombucha, there’s no “mother” involved in kefir production. Instead it’s all about the kefir grains. Available at your nearest craigslist.
(DISCLAIMER: Please do not buy kefir grains on craigslist.)
To make kefir, simply take some kefir grains, drop them in some milk in a glass jar, add some flavor (I like raspberries), and place a piece of cloth over the lid of the jar. Then wait like a day.
Yeah, so kefir is basically spoiled milk.
It’s really good though, I swear.
After 24 hours, your spoiled milk (“kefir”) is fermented and ready to drink. Just strain the grains with a colander, throw them in some fresh milk to curdle up some more kefir and drink the remaining deliciousness. You goddamn hippie.
What’s fascinating about kefir is that no one seems to know how the original kefir grains came into being. The grains themselves grow in size during the fermentation process so that’s where grains come from now, but you can’t make kefir grains yourself. But someone had to make them at some point, right? Someone or something?
This is some serious chicken and egg type shit right here.
Finally, at the base of the Rafferty Food Pyramid, we have yogurt. Or, if you prefer, “yoghurt” (or “yogourt”) (or “jogourt”) (or “jägerbomb”) (or “yaghourt”) (or “yoghurd”) (or “joghourt”). Sure, it’s not as esoteric as kefir or kombucha, but it’s no less cultured. Different cultures, though, obviously. More yogurty ones.
My main source of yogurt is Jamba Juice, which is an ever-shrinking chain of smoothie shops here in New York. My Jamba of choice is the Chunky Strawberry Topper, which is a yogurt/granola/strawberry/peanut butter/banana concoction the Jamba Geniuses came up with a few years back. It’s hearty. You need a spoon. And a Jamba Juice where they don’t judge you for ordering multiple Chunky Strawberry Toppers a week. I recommend the one at Houston & Mercer in SoHo.
Point is, I’m a omnivore. Fruits and vegetables, meats and bacterias. Moderation is the key. A little bit of everything and not too much of anything.
Plants, animals, and little fellas. All part of a balanced Rafferty Food Pyramid.
