Day 2 of the juice fast. This is the third or fourth year I’ve attempted at fasting twice a year. Every time it gets a little easier. It’s not that I am not hungry, I’m hungry. But the hunger doesn’t distress me in the way it did the first time. I’ve taught my mind that my body will survive if I intake nutrition in this way. Although, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that by the end of each day – which is now – I’m not exhausted and distracted and hating the whole thing.
Making juice makes waste. In the past I’ve lamented the pounds and pounds of fiber that my 20-year-old juicer spits into it’s yellowing plastic bucket. I’ve discovered, from experience, that 3 days of home-made juice waste is too much for my worms to handle. But this year, I will happily pack the pounds of pulp off to the Inwood Greenmarket. I’d say it’s at least a half a garbage can I’m keeping out of the landfill!
A juice fast requires that you intake juice about 6 times a day. In an attempt to have better juice, save money, and not have to use a multitude of plastic cups, I also carry juice to work. Normally I bring my mid-morning juice meal. Today I brought a green juice, a carrot beet juice and an apple juice. And thanks to my scoby master at the Table of Promise, my first batch of kombucha is also ready. So I also brought three bottles of home-made kombucha – one for me and one for each of my kombucha-loving friends K and E. All together I was lugging 6 glass jars.
As I heaved my bag off the escalator to get onto the subway, I thought, these jars may be more sustainable –but man they were heavy. The same amount of juice in plastic would have been much more manageable. Sure I know that one of the reasons people use plastic is because it’s lighter. But I’ve rarely had the experience of lugging glass. I’ve been demonizing plastic for almost a year now. And I’m not changing my position. But in that moment, I had a visceral understanding of why plastic was invented.
My jars of juice were delicious. But I was mostly extremely excited to share my kombucha with K and E. K and E however were not as excited as I expected. In fact, they were downright skeptical about my kombucha.
“Are you sure I’m not going to get sick?” K asked suspiciously.
I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t really thought about it.
“No,” I said, trying not to look defensive. She slid her bottle a little closer to her. She looked to E and I could tell, they were both thinking that home made kombucha was one of my crazy ideas.
I opened the bottle and it didn’t fizz.
K sniffed her bottle, pretending not to be repulsed.
I took a sip.
“It doesn’t taste like Kombucha,” I said. I was disappointed.
K took a reluctant sip. She tried not to make a face.
“Should I open mine?” E asked. I gave her a sip of my bottle.
It was not the delicious multi-colored bottles we normally guzzle when we fast.
“Maybe it needs to ferment a bit more,” K suggested. She gently pushed her bottle away. E did the same.
“It tastes a bit like vinegar,” I said taking another gulp. I was starving. “I like vinegar.”
As I downed my own bottle, K and E watched unsure if they should be horrified they tried to go back to our non-kombucha conversation.
But, the kombucha, had a mind of it’s own. Every time I opened my mouth to join in the chatter, my words were prefaced by a loud, vinegary, unladylike belch.
I will go back to my scoby drawing board and try to make another batch of kombucha. But the moral of the story, next time I bring a treat to my friends, I’m bringing cookies — they’re light and not gassy.
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