Okay, okay. This isn’t a fitness post, per say. Today I ate a bowl of cereal while on a spin bike, and I considered blogging about that experience, but decided I didn’t want to be sued if this caused injury. Instead, I have a blog about the latest obsession in the fitness world: kombucha tea. Just try to go to a yoga class without spotting someone sipping this drink.
Today I tried Synergy organic and raw Kombucha drink (Trilogy flavored).
Kombucha, according to my bottle, is “a handmade Chinese tea that is delicately cultured for 30 days.” It’s also that product that’s been popping up everywhere lately: the grocery store, emails from Lauren Conrad, following the word “kale” in conversations.
It cost $5.39 for a 480 mL bottle, which sounds expensive, but one of the ingredients is “100% pure LOVE!!!” so who am I to put a price cap on LOVE!!!? And considering I willingly spend $5 on a caramel brûlée latte come winter, I really shouldn’t fixate on the price. (But a latte doesn’t taste like fermented juice now does it?)
Kombucha claims to:
Essentially, if it’s a verb and it starts with an ‘R’ this product does it.
Komucha is also full of other active enzymes, amino acids, antioxidants, probiotics, and polyphenols. The combination of these nutrients is supposed to “create an elixir that immediately works with the body to restore balance and vitality.”
The bottle also mentions something about helping to battle cancer, but that claim sort of goes unexplained…
My sister, a total yogi, loves Kombucha tea. The first time she drank it, she actually said she felt a little buzzed. (One can only hope though, right?) She drinks it because it’s healthy, but says the only thing she actually feels after drinking it is “hydrated.” The Internet’s telling me it’ll detox my body, prevent arthritis and cancer, aid digestion (and as an IBS sufferer and a girl with a million allergies, I find this interesting), boost immunity, and lastly, teleport (jk). Mentally, it’s supposed to help with clarity, mood, and anxiety, and depression.
The bottle has been opened for at least ten minutes now (by the way, there was a massive explosion upon opening—they mean it when they say DO NOT SHAKE) and still I have not taken a sip.
Minute twenty: I am supposed to be drinking a bottle of bacteria….?
Minute Thirty: What are those disgusting things sitting at the bottom of the bottle? (Answer, thanks to Google: pieces of bacteria)
Minute Forty: This smells like moldy sour cream mixed with a bottle of wine.
Minute Forty-five: Okay, I’m a dramatic idiot. This isn’t so disgusting. It’s no donut. But It’s not moldy sour cream. It tastes like expired grape juice with a yeast-y aftertaste.
Minute Fifty: I desperately need to get this taste out of my mouth. And also, my chest is burning (perhaps because I chugged a whole glass at once…regrettably).
Minute Eight Thousand: I actually feel a little buzzed. I can never drink this in public or people will see how much of a lightweight I really am.
Minute AM I DONE YET: Ha! Just found on the bottle, “this product contains a trace amount of alcohol.”
Minute Sixty: Why is this so fizzy?
Minute Sixty-five: I want a latte.
Minute Seventy: I want a cronut from Disney World.
Minute I’ve Lost Track: I am so dizzy.
Conclusion: Perhaps Kombucha tea is the cauliflower of adulthood. No one really likes it, but hey you’re supposed to eat it because it’s healthy. Only cauliflower doesn’t cost 5.29 a bottle. (Then again, cauliflower doesn’t contain LOVE!!!) Or maybe, and this is just a theory, but during yoga class they actually perform some form of hypnosis that causes you to love this stuff.
Will I try it again? No. But if I ever become a Beverly Hills housewife I might retract that answer.
What about you? Do you love Kombucha, or like me, do you think it smells like moldly sour cream mixed with a bottle of wine. (I really think I’m going to regret tainting sour cream like this.)
Wishing you all a healthy (or donut filled) day!