“To ferment your own food is to lodge a small but eloquent protest – on behalf of the senses and the microbes – against the homogenization of flavors and food experiences now rolling like a great, undifferentiated lawn across the globe. It is also a declaration of independence from an economy that would much prefer we remain passive consumers of its standardized commodities, rather than creators of idiosyncratic products expressive of ourselves and of the places where we live, because your pale ale or sourdough bread or kimchi is going to taste nothing like mine or anyone else’s.”– Michael Pollan [1]
Today on the blog, I am tackling the art of fermentation.
While fermented foods have been brought into the culinary spotlight with folks like Joel MacCharles and Sandor Katz spreading the good word, fermentation is a naturally occurring process that predates human history. Humans just happened to discover it and began using it as a method of preparing our food. We’ve been doing so since 6000 B.C., the earliest record of fermentation.
By definition, fermentation happens when the carbohydrates (starch and sugars) in a food item are broken down by microscopic bacteria, molds, or yeasts and transformed into acids, gases, and alcohol. When you see it written in scientific terms, fermentation can sound a bit grotesque and potentially dangerous*. As a society we are told to avoid bacteria, not willingly ingest it.
What if I told you that beer, cheese, sourdough bread, yogurt, wine, and coffee are all common fermented foods? Interesting.
For my fermentation project, I decided to tackle making two beverages – shrub and kombucha.
Shrub:
I initially heard of shrub this past summer when I saw a vendor at a local farmer’s market selling “Small Batch Raspberry Shrub” (or, drinking vinegar). I recoiled at the thought of drinking vinegar, but I changed my tune after trying a glass or two on a friend’s patio.
Popular in 17th Century England, shrub is a concentrated, syrupy mixture of fruit, sugar, and vinegar. The shrub concentrate is diluted with a liquid and consumed as a beverage. Making shrub was very popular as a method of preservation in pre-refrigerator times (fruit can spoil very quickly, but vinegar does not) [2].
I prepared my shrub using a cold-process method. A 1:1 ratio of fruit and sugar (and some spices) are mixed together, covered, and left to sit at room temperature for two days. The fruit is broken down and the natural juices are released. Afterwards, the syrup mixture is strained and mixed with vinegar.
When flavouring the shrub, I kept a fall fruit and warm spice profile in mind. I used Anjou pear, blackberries, brown sugar, anise, cardamom, and black pepper
Pear and Blackberry Shrub
Ingredients:
1 cup brown sugar
2/3 cup Anjou Pears, diced
1/3 cup fresh blackberries
2 cloves star anise
1/4 tsp cardamom
1/8 tsp, cracked black pepper
1/2 cup white wine vinegar
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
Directions:
1. Peel, core and chop pears into a medium dice, set aside in a bowl or jar
2. Add washed blackberries, brown sugar, and spices
3. Mix ingredients together until well combined with a spoon (or your hands, if you’re feeling adventurous)
4. Cover the bowl with a clean towel, and set aside at room temperature for two days until the fruit’s juices are released. Stir once each day.
5. With a mesh strainer, strain the fruit-sugar mixture into a measuring cup
6. Add in white wine and apple cider vinegars and mix.
7. Transfer mixture to a glass jar, and store in the fridge.
Day 1: After mixing the shrub.
Day 2: Ready to be strained, mixed, and drank.
I mixed 1.5 oz of the syrup with sparkling water to try it out. If you are mourning the recent American election results (and drink alcohol) you can even add in a splash of dark bourbon or gin. The shrub had a rich, jammy flavour with a tangy aftertaste. If I made this again I would definitely add more spice to the mix. I was hoping that the final product would have more of a punchy spiciness, but it was very subtle.
Overall this method of preservation was easy, low maintenance, flavourful, and only took two days to make. It is the perfect canvas for adventurous flavour combinations!
Kombucha, Part 1:
Kombucha is a fizzy, slightly sour drink that is made when a concentrate of tea and sugar are left to ferment with a SCOBY (symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast). While kombucha has resurfaced in the past 5 years as a trendy, allegedly healthy drink, it has been around much longer than that. Kombucha’s origins are not precisely known, but it is estimated to have been around for thousands of years. [3]
I was gifted a SCOBY this past summer from a friend of mine who brews his own kombucha at home. It looks very much like an alien life form, or a beige coloured pancake. SCOBYs are the “creature” that eats the sugar dissolved into the tea-sugar concentrate, thus fermenting it. The longer the tea is left in with the SCOBY to ferment, the less sugar will remain in the batch.
Following initial fermentation, which can take anywhere from 7-30 days (based on your taste preferences) you can do a second fermentation in flip-top bottles using fruit, juice, and herbs to flavour the drink and give it a bit of fizz.
Safety before beginning:
- Use clean hands when handling the SCOBY to ensure there is no cross contamination
- Do not use anti-bacterial soap (remember, the SCOBY is bacteria)
- Keep it away from metal, including jewelry
- Sterilize the container you are going to make your kombucha in with hot water and vinegar
- You ideally should stay away from soap, because you don’t want any leftover residue in your batch of kombucha
- If your kombucha goes bad, or your SCOBY develops any mold, immediately throw it out. No exceptions.
Jasmine Green Kombucha, Part 1.
Ingredients:
4 tbsp of loose leaf jasmine green tea
12 cups of water
1 cup of cane sugar
1 SCOBY
1 gallon glass container
Cheesecloth, tea towel, or coffee filter.
Directions
1. In a large pot, bring 12 cups of water to a boil.
2. Stir in 1 cup of sugar until dissolved. Turn off and let water-sugar mixture cool for 5 minutes
3. Add in the tea leaves. Cover and let sit until cool.
4. Strain out the tea leaves through a mesh sieve and add liquid to your glass vessel.
5. Add in your SCOBY once the liquid is completely cooled (Note: you do not want to add the SCOBY into the tea mixture when it is still warm, you could potentially harm it.)
6. Cover with your cheesecloth, tea towel, or coffee filter and an elastic to secure it. (Note: you want to cover your jar with something thick enough to keep out roaming bugs and bacteria, but with enough holes to supply oxygen for your brew). Store at room temperature.
7. Start checking your kombucha after 7 days to see if it is to your taste. If not, give it more time to ferment. Repeat the tasting process each day until the flavour is to your liking.
Beginning stages of kombucha.
I started brewing my batch of kombucha this past Sunday and it will not be ready for another week or so. Stay tuned for Part 2 where, if all goes well, I will move on to the next stage of fermentation!
Cheers,
Bronwyn
*Safety is definitely a concern when working with fermentation. There are sterilization and sanitary processes you should 100% follow to inhibit the growth of dangerous bacteria, preventing food poisoning.
References:
1. Pollan, M. (2014). Cooked: A Natural History of Transformation. Penguin Books.
2. Ladehoff, L. (2014, June 19). Shrubs for Your Cocktail, Not for Your Yard. Retrieved November 9, 2016, from https://www.groupon.com/articles/shrubs-for-your-cocktail-not-for-your-yard-fd
3. What is Kombucha? (n.d.). Retrieved November 9, 2016, from http://www.seedsofhealth.co.uk/fermenting/kombucha.shtml
Kinship Kitchen 
Your spicy pear shrub sounds like just the thing for winter cocktails (and drowning a sense of helplessness with current global politics). I make kombucha too, and water kefir as well, so yes you could say I’m a fan of fermentation. I look forward to seeing more of your posts!
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Thank you so much for your kind words! I just saw that you’ve been dabbling in making shrubs as well. Aren’t they delicious?
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