Iowa poet Cole Highnam muses upon Wild Culture’s fermented teas in the form of a lyric essay, “I will not spoil my health with lesser brightness.”
[dropcap]H[/dropcap]ow long have you been in the kombucha game?
It wasn’t that long ago that this mysterious bevy went mainstream.
Example: the word is a spelling error according to this word processor.
The program isn’t cultured.
What is cultured?
Wild Culture Kombucha of Iowa City.
Do you remember?
When kombucha mothers (the fungus used in fermentation) circulated underground?
A new layer of fungus grows with each batch.
If you had a new layer of fungus, wouldn’t you give it to your friends and friends of friends?
Kombucha is obviously a metaphor for community, reinforced with every iteration.
A lovely paradox of kombucha:
A kombucha maker (bacteria shepherd) must be meticulously clean.
Two contrasting elements held simultaneously.
Such are the Wild Culture Kombucha flavor combinations:
I tried Jalapeno-Pineapple: round and spicy, sweet and smooth.
I tried Beet-Orange-Lime: earthy and woody with a tart finish.
There I was, drinking kombucha draughts at the Iowa City Brew Lab.
She asked me, “Do you want goblets?”
“Yes. I want goblets.”
The Brew Lab is modeled after a laboratory.
They take their cleanliness seriously.
Wild Culture also flows at the Farmer’s Market.
Wild Culture Kombucha ferments to about 1 percent ABV.
It is not diluted and thereby retains more of its health-giving goodies.
Do these health-giving goodies make you feel better instantly?
Or, like an apple, is a steady flow of kombucha a long-term strategy to keep the doctor away?
Who cares? It’s delicious and sparkling and brightly colored.
Yes, you feel energized and aligned and a smidge intoxicated.
Yes, probiotics can help with your microbiome (also a spelling error). Look that up and see how vitally important it is.
Get it right.
Get it from your neighbors.
This article was originally published in Little Village issue 199.