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2 episodes with scobys
2 episodes with scobys
2 episodes with scobys
2 episodes with scobys
This is one in a series about possible futures, which will be published in Booch News over the coming weeks. Episode 7 appeared last week. New episodes drop every Friday. Overview Peer-to-peer flavor-sharing platforms enabled home brewers to distribute taste profiles as digital files. Blockchain-verified SCOBY genetics allowed anyone to recreate award-winning kombucha flavors. Traditional beverage companies lost control as open-source fermentation recipes spread globally. This episode follows teenage hacker Luna Reyes as she reverse-engineers Heineken’s proprietary “A-yeast” strain and the century-old master strain used for Budweiser, releasing them under Creative Commons license, triggering a flavor renaissance that made corporate beverages taste like cardboard by comparison. Luna Reyes: The Seventeen-Year-Old Who Liberated Flavor Luna Reyes was brewing kombucha in her Oakland garage when she changed the course of human history. The daughter of Mexican immigrants, she had learned fermentation from her grandmother while teaching herself bioinformatics through YouTube tutorials and volunteering at the Counter Culture Labs Maker Space on Shattuck Avenue. By fifteen, she was running the Bay Area’s most sophisticated home laboratory, utilizing jury-rigged DNA sequencers and microscopes constructed from smartphone cameras. Her breakthrough came in February 2043 while investigating why her kombucha never tasted quite like expensive craft varieties and was different again from her grandmother’s home brew. Using Crispr techniques learned from online forums, Luna began reverse-engineering the microbial genetics of premium alcoholic beverages. Her target wasn’t kombucha—it was the closely guarded yeast strains that gave corporate beers their distinctive flavors. Luna hunched over her microscope, examining bacterial cultures from her latest kombucha batch. Around her, salvaged DNA sequencers hummed, fermentation vessels bubbled, and computer screens displayed multi-hued patterns of genetic sequences. Her grandmother, Rosa, entered carrying a tray with three glasses of homemade kombucha. “Mija, you’ve been working for six hours straight. Drink something.” Luna accepted the glass without looking up. “Abuela, your kombucha tastes better than anything I can buy in stores and the ones I’ve experimented with. Why? I’m using the same base ingredients—tea, sugar, water—but mine never has this complexity.” Her grandmother laughed. “Because I’ve been feeding this SCOBY for forty years. It knows what to do. You can’t rush relationships.” Luna’s sister Maya, lounging against a workbench, waved her phone. “Luna, people have noticed your forum post about Health-Ade’s fermentation process. Someone says you’re wasting your time trying to replicate commercial kombuchas.” “I’m not trying to replicate them,” Luna said, finally looking up. “I’m trying to understand why their kombucha tastes different than that I make at home. It’s not the ingredients. It’s not the process. It’s the microbial genetics.” Rosa sat down beside her granddaughter. “When I was young in Oaxaca, every family had their own kombucha culture, passed down generation to generation. Each tasted different because the bacteria adapted to their environment, their ingredients, their care. We had a saying, Hay tantas fermentaciones en el mundo como estrellas en el cielo nocturno – there are as many ferments in the world as stars in the night sky. The big companies want every bottle to be identical. That kills what makes fermentation special.” “Exactly!” Luna pulled up genetic sequences on her screen. “I’ve been reverse-engineering samples from different commercial kombuchas. Health-Ade, GT’s, Brew Dr—they all have consistent microbial profiles.” The Great Heist: Cracking Corporate DNA Luna’s first major hack targeted Heineken’s legendary “A-yeast” strain, developed in 1886 by Dr. Hartog Elion—a student of renowned chemist Louis Pasteur—in the company’s Amsterdam laboratory and protected by over 150 years of trade secret law. Using samples obtained from discarded brewery waste (technically legal under the “garbage doctrine”), she spent six months mapping the strain’s complete genetic sequence in her makeshift lab. The breakthrough required extraordinary ingenuity. Luna couldn’t afford professional gene sequencers, so she modified a broken Illumina iSeq100 purchased on eBay for $200. Her sequencing runs took weeks rather than hours; her results were identical to those produced by million-dollar laboratory equipment. Her detailed laboratory notebooks, later published as The Garage Genomics Manifesto, became essential reading for the biotech hacker movement. The Budweiser project proved even more challenging. Anheuser-Busch’s century-old master strain had been protected by layers of corporate secrecy rivaling classified military programs. The company maintained multiple backup cultures in cryogenic facilities across three continents, never allowing complete genetic mapping by outside researchers. Luna’s success required infiltrating the company’s waste-disposal systems at four breweries, collecting samples over 18 months while evading corporate security. The Decision The night before Luna was scheduled to meet her fellow bio-hackers at Oakland’s Counter Culture Labs, she sat at her workstation, hesitant, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Her sister Maya came in, looking worried. “Luna, I found something you need to see,” she says. “Remember Marcus Park? He tried releasing proprietary yeast information in 2039. Heineken buried him. He lost everything. His daughter dropped out of college. His wife left him. He’s working at a gas station now.” Luna spent the night researching what happened to Park. She found that almost everyone who challenged corporate IP ended up on the losing side of the law. It was not pretty. In the morning, Abuela Rosa finds her crying in her room. “Mija, what’s wrong?” she asks. “Oh, Abuela,” Luna says between sobs. “What am I doing? What if I’m wrong? What if I destroy our family? What if this ruins Mom and Dad? What if I’m just being selfish?” “That’s the fear talking.” Her grandmother reassured her. “Fear is wisdom warning you to be careful. But fear can also be a cage.” That evening at the Counter Culture Labs, Luna assembled a small group of advisors. She needed their guidance. She had the completed genetic sequences for Heineken A-yeast and Budweiser’s master strain on her laptop, ready for release. But is this the time and place to release them to the world? Dr. Marcus Webb, a bioinformatics researcher in his forties and Luna’s mentor, examined her sequencing data. “This is solid work, Luna. Your jury-rigged equipment is crude. The results are accurate. You’ve fully mapped both strains.” “The question isn’t whether I can do it,” Luna said. “It’s whether I should let the world know I did it.” On screen, Cory Doctorow, the author and digital rights activist, leaned forward. “Let’s be clear about what you’re proposing. You’d be releasing genetic information that corporations have protected as trade secrets for over a century. They’ll argue you stole their intellectual property. You’ll face lawsuits, possibly criminal charges.” “Is it their property?” Luna challenged. “These are naturally occurring organisms. They didn’t create that yeast. Evolution did. They just happened to be there when it appeared. That does not make it theirs any more than finding a wildflower means they own the species. Can you really own something that existed before you found it?” Doctorow, the Electronic Frontier Foundation representative spoke up. “There’s legal precedent both ways. Diamond v. Chakrabarty established that genetically modified organisms can be patented. But naturally occurring genetic sequences? That’s murky. The companies will argue that their decades of cultivation and protection created protectable trade secrets.” “Trade secrets require keeping information secret,” Luna argued. “They throw this yeast away constantly. If they’re not protecting it, how can they claim trade secret status?” Dr. Webb cautioned, “Luna, even if you’re legally in the right—which is debatable—you’re seventeen years old. You’ll be fighting multinational corporations with unlimited legal resources. They’ll bury you in litigation for years.” “That’s where we come in,” Doctorow said. “The EFF can provide legal defense. Creative Commons can help structure the license. You need to understand: this will consume your life. College, career plans, normal teenage experiences—all on hold while you fight this battle.” Luna was quiet for a moment, then pulled up a photo on her laptop: her grandmother Rosa, teaching her to ferment at age seven. “My abuela says fermentation is about sharing and passing living cultures between generations. Corporations have turned it into intellectual property to be protected and controlled. If I can break that control—even a little—isn’t that worth fighting for?” Maya spoke up from the back. “Luna, I love you, but you’re being naive. They won’t just sue you. They’ll make an example of you. Your face on every news channel, portrayed as a thief, a criminal. Our family harassed. Your future destroyed. For what? So people can brew beer with the same yeast as Heineken?” “Not just beer,” Luna responded passionately. “This is about whether living organisms can be owned. Whether genetic information—the code of life itself—can be locked behind intellectual property law. Yes, it starts with beer yeast. But what about beneficial bacteria? Life-saving microorganisms? Medicine-producing fungi? Where does it end?” Dr. Webb nodded slowly. “She’s right. This is bigger than beer. As biotech advances, genetic control becomes power over life itself. Do we want corporations owning that?” Doctorow sighed. “If you do this, Luna, do it right. Release everything simultaneously—BitTorrent, WikiLeaks, Creative Commons servers, distributed networks worldwide. Make it impossible to contain. Include complete cultivation protocols so anyone can reproduce your results. Make the data so damn widely available that suppressing it becomes futile.” “And write a manifesto,” he added. “Explain why you’re doing this. Frame the issue. Make it about principles, not piracy.” Luna nodded, fingers already typing. “When should I release?” “Pick a date with symbolic meaning,” Dr. Webb suggested. “Make it an event, not just a data dump.” Luna smiled. “December 15. The Bill of Rights Day. Appropriate for declaring biological rights, don’t you think?” Maya groaned. “You’re really doing this, aren’t you?” “Yes. I’m really doing this.” The Creative Commons Liberation On Tuesday, December 15, 2043—a date now celebrated as “Open Flavor Day”—Luna released the genetic sequences on multiple open-source networks. Her manifesto, titled Your Grandmother’s Yeast Is Your Birthright, argued that microbial genetics belonged to humanity’s shared heritage rather than corporate shareholders. It stated: Commercial companies have protected yeast strains for over a century. They’ve used intellectual property law to control flavor itself. But genetic information isn’t like a recipe or a formula—it’s biological code that evolved over millions of years before humans ever cultivated it. These strains are protected as trade secrets—the bacteria don’t belong to anyone. They existed before Heineken, before Budweiser, before trademark law. The companies just happened to isolate and cultivate them. Her data packages included DNA sequences and complete protocols for cultivating, modifying, and improving the strains. Luna’s releases came with user-friendly software that allowed amateur brewers to simulate genetic modifications before attempting them in real fermentations. Within 24 hours, over ten thousand people worldwide downloaded the files. The Creative Commons community erupted in celebration. Cory Doctorow’s blog post, The Teenager Who Stole Christmas (From Corporate Beer), went viral within hours. The Electronic Frontier Foundation immediately offered Luna legal protection, while the Free Software Foundation created the “Luna Defense Fund” to support her anticipated legal battles. The Legal Assault Heineken’s response was swift. The company filed emergency injunctions in 12 countries simultaneously, seeking to prevent the distribution of its “stolen intellectual property.” Their legal team, led by former U.S. Attorney General William Barr III, demanded Luna’s immediate arrest for “economic terrorism” and “theft of trade secrets valued at over $50 billion.” Anheuser-Busch’s reaction was even more extreme. CEO Marcel Telles IV appeared on CNBC, calling Luna “a bioterrorist who threatens the foundation of American capitalism.” The company hired private investigators to surveil Luna’s family and offered a $10 million reward for information leading to her prosecution. Their legal filing compared Luna’s actions to “stealing the formula for Coca-Cola and publishing it in the New York Times.” In Heineken’s Amsterdam headquarters, executives convened an emergency meeting. “Who is Luna Reyes?” the CEO demanded. The legal counsel pulled up information. “She’s a seventeen-year-old high school student in Oakland, California. No criminal record. Volunteers at a maker space. Has been posting about fermentation on various forums for years.” “A child released our proprietary yeast strain to the world, and we didn’t know she was even working on this?” The CEO’s face reddened. “How do we contain it?” “We can’t. It’s distributed across thousands of servers in dozens of countries with different IP laws. We can sue Reyes, but the information is out there permanently.” An executive interjected, “What about the other breweries? Will they join our lawsuit?” “Some are considering it. Others…” The counsel paused. “Others are quietly downloading the sequences themselves. They see an opportunity to break our market dominance.” “She obtained samples from our waste disposal,” another executive explained. “Technically legal under the garbage doctrine. The sequencing itself isn’t illegal. The release under Creative Commons…” “Is theft!” the CEO shouted. “File emergency injunctions. Twelve countries. Get her arrested for economic terrorism.” Similar scenes played out at Anheuser-Busch headquarters in St. Louis. CEO Telles addressed his team: “This is bioterrorism. She’s destroyed intellectual property worth billions. I want her prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Hire private investigators. Find everything about her and her family. Make her life hell!” By noon, both companies had filed lawsuits. By evening, Fox News was running stories about the “teenage bioterrorist” who “stole American corporate secrets.” Back in Oakland, Luna’s phone rang constantly. Her parents discovered what she’d done. Her mother cried. Her father was furious and terrified. Friends called with either congratulations or warnings. She was convinced that private investigators were photographing their house. Maya suspected she was followed to work. On Wednesday morning, Dr. Webb calls: “Luna, they’re offering me $2 million to testify against you. They’re going after everyone in your network.” Luna has a sickening feeling that she’s put everyone at risk. By Thursday, she is considering taking it all back somehow, sending an apology to the corporations, anything to protect her family. Luna turned off her phone and sat with her grandmother. “It’s started,” Luna said quietly. “Sí, mija. You’ve declared war. Now we see if you can survive it.” Maya burst in, laptop in hand. “Luna, you need to see this. The downloads aren’t slowing—they’re accelerating. Every time Heineken or Budweiser shuts down a website, ten mirror sites appear. People are treating this like a digital freedom fight. You’ve become a symbol.” Luna pulled up her own screen. The #FreeLuna hashtag was trending. Crowdfunding campaigns for her legal defense had raised $400,000 in twelve hours. Academic institutions were publicly endorsing her release, calling it “essential scientific information.” “They’re trying to destroy you,” Maya said, “but they’re making you famous instead.” Rosa handed Luna a fresh kombucha. “This is what happens when you fight for what’s right, mija. Sometimes the world surprises you by supporting you.” Luna’s Fame The corporations’ attempts to suppress Luna’s releases had the opposite effect. Every cease-and-desist letter generated thousands of new downloads. The genetic data became impossible to contain once the academic community embraced Luna’s work. Dr. Jennifer Doudna, the legendary Crispr pioneer now in her eighties, publicly endorsed Luna’s releases in a Science magazine editorial: Ms. Reyes has liberated essential scientific information that corporations held hostage for commercial gain. Genetic sequences from naturally occurring organisms should not be locked behind intellectual property law. They belong to humanity’s knowledge commons. While corporations claim Luna stole trade secrets, I argue she freed biological knowledge that was never theirs to own. There are no trade secrets in biology—only knowledge temporarily hidden from the commons. This is civil disobedience of the highest order—breaking unjust laws to advance human freedom. Ms. Reyes didn’t steal; she liberated. MIT’s biology department invited Luna to lecture, while Harvard offered her a full scholarship despite her lack of a high school diploma. The legal battles consumed corporate resources while generating negative publicity. Heineken’s stock price dropped 34% as consumers organized boycotts in support of Luna’s “yeast liberation.” Beer sales plummeted as customers waited for home-brewed alternatives using Luna’s open-source genetics. The Flavor Renaissance Luna’s releases triggered an explosion of creativity that corporate R&D departments had never imagined. Within six months, amateur brewers worldwide were producing thousands of flavor variations impossible under corporate constraints. The open-source model enabled rapid iteration and global collaboration, rendering traditional brewing companies obsolete. The world was engaged. In some of the most unlikely places. In Evanston, Illinois, a group of former seminary students who discovered fermentation during a silent retreat, transformed Gregorian chants into microbial devotionals. Tenor Marcus Webb (Dr. Webb’s nephew) realized symbiosis mirrored vocal harmony—multiple voices creating something greater than their parts. “In honoring the mystery of fermentation we express our love of the Creator,” he said. Here's ‘Consortium Vocalis' honoring the mother SCOBY. [Chorus]Our SCOBYIs pureOur SCOBYIs strongOur SCOBYKnows no boundariesOur SCOBYStrengthens as it fermentsOur SCOBYIs bacteria and yeast Our SCOBYTurns sucrose into glucose and fructoseIt ferments these simple sugars into ethanol and carbon dioxide,Acetic acid bacteria oxidize much of that ethanol into organic acidsSuch as acetic, gluconic, and other acids.This steadily lowers the pHMaking the tea taste sour-tangy instead of purely sweet. [Chorus] Our SCOBYThen helps microbes produce acids, enzymes, and small amounts of B‑vitaminsWhile probiotics grow in the liquid.The pH falls to help inhibit unwanted microbesOur SCOBY creates a self-preserving, acidic environment in the tea [Chorus] In Kingston, Jamaica, Rastafarian’s combined an award-winning kombucha sequenced in Humboldt County, California, with locally grown ganja into a sacramental beverage to help open their mind to reasoning and focus on Jah. Once fermented, it was consumed over the course of a three-day Nyabinghi ceremony. “Luna Reyes is truly blessed. She strengthened our unity as a people, and our Rastafari’ booch help us chant down Babylon,” a Rasta man smiled, blowing smoke from a spliff the size of his arm. The Groundation Collective’s reggae anthem ‘Oh Luna’ joyfully celebrated Luna Reyes’ pioneering discovery. Oh Luna, Oh Luna, Oh Luna ReyesI love the sound of your nameYou so deserve your fame Luna, Luna, Oh Luna ReyesShining brightYou warm my heart Luna, Luna, Oh Luna ReyesYou cracked the codeTeenage prophet, fermentation queenSymbiosis roadA genius at seventeen Oh Luna, Luna, Luna ReyesBeautiful moonMakes me swoon Oh Luna, Luna, Luna ReyesFreedom to fermentYou are heaven sentTo save us Luna, Luna, Oh Luna ReyesYou opened the doorTo so much moreKombucha tastes so goodLike it should Oh Luna, Oh Luna, Oh LunaI love you, love you, love youOh Luna, Luna, LunaLove you, love you,Love Luna, Luna love. In São Paulo, Brazil, MAPA-certified Brazilian kombucha brands combined Heineken and cacao-fermenting yeasts with cupuaçu from indigenous Amazonian peoples, to create the chocolate-flavored ‘booch that won Gold at the 20th World Kombucha Awards. A cervejeiro explained to reporters: “Luna Reyes gave us the foundation. We added local innovation. This is what happens when you democratize biology.” The Brazilian singer Dandara Sereia covered ‘Our Fermented Future’—The Hollow Pines tune destined to become a hit at the 2053 Washington DC Fermentation Festival. Baby sit a little closer, sip some ‘booch with meI brewed this batch with the SCOBY my grandma gave to me.On the back porch swing at twilight, watching fireflies danceYour hand in mine, kombucha fine, the sweetest sweet romance. They say that wine and roses are the way to win the heartBut your kombucha warmed me right up from the start.Fermentation makes the heart grow fonder, truer words they ain’t been saidYour SCOBY’s got a place forever — in my heart, and in my bed. Let’s share our SCOBYs, baby, merge our ferments into oneLike cultures in a crock jar dancing, underneath the sun.The tang of your Lactobacillus is exactly what I’m missingYour Brettanomyces bacteria got this country girl reminiscing. Oh yeah, let’s share those SCOBYs, baby, merge our ferments into oneYour yeasts and my bacteria working till the magic’s doneYou’ve got the acetic acid honey, I’ve got the patience and the timeLet’s bubble up together, let our cultures intertwine. I’ve got that symbiotic feeling, something wild and something trueYour SCOBY’s in my heart, right there next to youThe way your Acetobacter turns sugar into goldIs how you turned my lonely life into a hand to hold. We’ve got the acetic acid and the glucuronic tooWe’ve got that symbiotic feeling, so righteous and so trueOne sip of your sweet ‘booch, Lord, and you had me from the start,It’s our fermented future, that no-one can tear apart. It’s our fermented future…It’s our fermented future…It’s our fermented future… “Luna Variants”—strains derived from her releases—began winning international brewing competitions, embarrassing corporate entries with their complexity and innovation. Traditional beer flavors seemed flat and artificial compared to the genetic symphonies created by collaborative open-source development. Despite the outpouring of positive vibes, the corporations spared no expense to hold Luna to account in the courts. The Preliminary Hearing A preliminary hearing was held in the United States District Court for the Northern District of California on June 14, 2044. Luna sat at the defendant’s table, her hands folded so tightly her knuckles had gone white. She wore a borrowed blazer—too big in the shoulders—over a white button-down shirt Maya had ironed that morning. At seventeen, she looked even younger under the courtroom’s fluorescent lights. Across the aisle, Heineken’s legal team occupied three tables. Fifteen attorneys in matching navy suits shuffled documents and whispered into phones. Their lead counsel, William Barr III, wore gold cufflinks that caught the light when he gestured. Luna recognized him from the news—the former Attorney General, now commanding $2,000 an hour to destroy people like her. Her own legal representation consisted of two people: Rose Kennerson from the Electronic Frontier Foundation, a public interest lawyer who’d flown in from DC on a red-eye, and Dr. Marcus Webb, technically a witness but sitting beside Luna because she’d asked him to. Behind them, the gallery was packed. Luna’s parents sat in the second row, her father’s face gray, her mother clutching a rosary. Maya had taken the day off work. Abuela Rosa sat in the front row directly behind Luna, her ancient SCOBY wrapped in silk in her lap, as if its presence might protect her granddaughter. Judge Catherine Ironwood entered—sixty-ish, steel-gray hair pulled back severely, known for pro-corporate rulings. She’d been a pharmaceutical industry lawyer for twenty years before her appointment. “All rise,” the bailiff called. Judge Ironwood settled into her chair and surveyed the courtroom with the expression of someone who’d already decided the outcome and resented having to perform the formalities. “We’re here for a preliminary injunction hearing in Heineken International B.V. versus Luna Marie Reyes.” She looked directly at Luna. “Ms. Reyes, you’re seventeen years old?” Luna stood, hesitant. “Yes, your honor.” “Where are your parents?” “Here, your honor.” Luna’s mother half-rose, then sat back down. “Ms. Kennerson, your client is a minor. Are the parents aware they could be held liable for damages?” Rose Kennerson stood smoothly. “Yes, your honor. The Reyes family has been fully advised of the legal implications.” Luna glanced back. Her father’s jaw was clenched so tight she could see the muscles working. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Very well. Mr. Barr, you may proceed.” Barr rose like a battleship emerging from fog—massive, expensive, inevitable. He buttoned his suit jacket and approached the bench without notes. “Your honor, this is the simplest case I’ve argued in thirty years. The defendant admits to obtaining my client’s proprietary biological materials. She admits to sequencing their genetic information. She admits to distributing that information globally, in deliberate violation of trade secret protections that have existed for over 150 years. She did this knowingly, systematically, and with the explicit intent to destroy my client’s competitive advantage.” Luna felt Sarah’s hand on her arm—stay calm. Barr continued. “Heineken International has invested over $200 million in the development, cultivation, and protection of the A-yeast strain. Then this teenager”—he pointed at Luna—”obtained samples from our waste disposal systems, reverse-engineered our genetic sequences, and released them to the world via BitTorrent, deliberately placing them beyond retrieval.” He paced now, warming to his theme. “The damage is incalculable. We estimate lost market value at $50 billion. But it’s not just about money. The defendant has destroyed the possibility of competition in the brewing industry. When everyone has access to the same genetic materials, there’s no innovation, no differentiation, no reason for consumers to choose one product over another. She has, in effect, communized an entire industry.” Luna couldn’t help herself. “That’s not—” Sarah grabbed her wrist. “Don’t.” Judge Ironwood’s eyes narrowed. “Ms. Reyes, you will have your opportunity to speak. Until then, you will remain silent, or I will have you removed from this courtroom. Do you understand?” “Yes, your honor.” Luna’s voice came out smaller than she intended. Barr smiled slightly. “Your honor, the relief we seek is straightforward. We ask this court to order the defendant to provide us with a complete list of all servers, websites, and distribution networks where the stolen genetic data currently resides. We ask that she be ordered to cooperate fully in suppressing the data. We ask that she be enjoined from any further distribution. And we ask that she be ordered to pay compensatory damages of $5 billion, plus punitive damages to be determined at trial.” He returned to his seat. One of his associate attorneys handed him a bottle of Pellegrino. He took a sip and waited. Judge Ironwood looked at Sarah. “Ms. Kennerson?” Sarah stood. She looked tiny compared to Barr—five-foot-three, maybe 110 pounds, wearing a suit from Target. But when she spoke, her voice filled the courtroom. “Your honor, Mr. Barr has given you a compelling story about a corporation that’s been wronged. But it’s not the right story. The right story is about whether naturally occurring organisms—creatures that evolved over millions of years, long before humans ever existed—can be owned by a corporation simply because that corporation happened to isolate them.” She walked toward the bench. “Let’s be clear about what the A-yeast strain is. It’s not a genetically modified organism. It’s not a patented invention. It’s a naturally occurring yeast. Heineken didn’t create it. Evolution created it. Heineken merely found it. And for 158 years, they’ve claimed that finding something gives them the right to prevent anyone else from studying it, understanding it, or using it.” Barr was on his feet. “Objection, your honor. This is a preliminary hearing about injunctive relief, not a philosophical debate about intellectual property theory.” “Sustained. Ms. Kennerson, please focus on the specific legal issues before this court.” “Your honor, the specific legal issue is whether naturally occurring genetic sequences constitute protectable trade secrets. My client contends they do not. She obtained the yeast samples from Heineken’s waste disposal—materials they had discarded. Under the garbage doctrine, she had every right to analyze those materials. The genetic sequences she discovered are factual information about naturally occurring organisms. You cannot trade-secret facts about nature.” Luna watched Judge Ironwood’s face. Nothing. No reaction. Sarah pressed on. “Mr. Barr claims my client ‘stole’ genetic information worth $5 billion. But information cannot be stolen—it can only be shared. When I tell you a fact, I don’t lose possession of that fact. We both have it. That’s how knowledge works. Heineken hasn’t lost their yeast. They still have it. They can still brew with it. What they’ve lost is their monopoly on that knowledge. And monopolies on facts about nature should never have existed in the first place.” “Your honor—” Barr tried to interrupt. Judge Ironwood waved him down. “Continue, Ms. Kennerson.” “Your honor, Heineken wants this court to order a seventeen-year-old girl to somehow suppress information that has already been distributed to over 100,000 people in 147 countries. That’s impossible. You can’t unring a bell. You can’t put knowledge back in a bottle. Even if this court ordered my client to provide a list of servers—which she shouldn’t have to do—that list would be incomplete within hours as new mirror sites appeared. The information is out. The only question is whether we punish my client for sharing factual information about naturally occurring organisms.” She turned to face Luna’s family. “Ms. Reyes taught herself bioinformatics from YouTube videos. She works at home with equipment she bought on eBay. She has no criminal record. She’s never been in trouble. She saw a question that interested her—why do commercial beers taste like they do?—and she pursued that question with the tools available to her. When she discovered the answer, she shared it with the world, under a Creative Commons license that specifically protects sharing for educational and scientific purposes. If that’s terrorism, your honor, then every scientist who’s ever published a research paper is a terrorist.” Sarah sat down. Luna wanted to hug her. Judge Ironwood leaned back. “Ms. Reyes, stand up.” Luna rose, her legs shaking. “Do you understand the seriousness of these proceedings?” “Yes, your honor.” “Do you understand that Heineken International is asking me to hold you in contempt of court if you refuse to help them suppress the information you released?” “Yes, your honor.” “Do you understand that contempt of court could result in your detention in a juvenile facility until you reach the age of eighteen, and potentially longer if the contempt continues?” Luna’s mother gasped audibly. Her father put his arm around her. “Yes, your honor,” Luna said, though her voice wavered. “Then let me ask you directly: If I order you to provide Heineken with a complete list of all locations where the genetic data you released currently resides, will you comply?” The courtroom went silent. Luna could hear her own heartbeat. Sarah started to stand—”Your honor, I advise my client not to answer—” “Sit down, Ms. Kennerson. I’m asking your client a direct question. She can choose to answer or not.” Judge Ironwood’s eyes never left Luna. “Well, Ms. Reyes? Will you comply with a court order to help Heineken suppress the information you released?” Luna looked at her parents. Her mother was crying silently. Her father’s face was stone. She looked at Abuela Rosa. Her grandmother nodded once—tell the truth. Luna looked back at the judge. “No, your honor.” Barr shot to his feet. “Your honor, the defendant has just admitted she intends to defy a court order—” “I heard her, Mr. Barr.” Judge Ironwood’s voice was ice. “Ms. Reyes, do you understand you’ve just told a federal judge you will refuse a direct order?” “Yes, your honor.” “And you’re still refusing?” “Yes, your honor.” “Why?” Sarah stood quickly. “Your honor, my client doesn’t have to explain—” “I want to hear it.” Judge Ironwood leaned forward. “Ms. Reyes, tell me why you would risk jail rather than help undo what you’ve done.” Luna took a breath. Her whole body was shaking, but her voice was steady. “Because it would be wrong, your honor.” “Wrong how?” “The genetic sequences I released evolved over millions of years. Heineken didn’t create that yeast. They isolated one strain and claimed ownership of it. The code of life belongs to everyone. That’s humanity’s heritage. Even if you send me to jail, I can’t help suppress the truth.” Judge Ironwood stared at her for a long moment. “That’s a very pretty speech, Ms. Reyes. But this court operates under the law, not your personal philosophy about what should or shouldn’t be owned. Trade secret law exists. Heineken’s rights exist. And you violated those rights.” Luna did not hesitate. “With respect, your honor, I don’t think those rights should exist.” Barr exploded. “Your honor, this is outrageous! The defendant is openly stating she believes she has the right to violate any law she disagrees with—” “That’s not what I said.” Luna’s fear was transforming into something else—something harder. “I’m saying that some laws are unjust. And when laws are unjust, civil disobedience becomes necessary. People broke unjust laws during the civil rights movement. People broke unjust laws when they helped slaves escape. The constitution says members of the military do not have to obey illegal orders, despite what those in power might claim. Sometimes the law is wrong. And when the law says corporations can own genetic information about naturally occurring organisms, the law is wrong.” Judge Ironwood’s face flushed. “Ms. Reyes, you are not Rosa Parks. This is not the civil rights movement. This is a case about intellectual property theft.” “It’s a case about whether life can be property, your honor.” “Enough.” Judge Ironwood slammed her gavel. “Ms. Kennerson, control your client.” Sarah pulled Luna back into her chair. “Luna, stop talking,” she hissed. Judge Ironwood shuffled papers, visibly trying to compose herself. “I’m taking a fifteen-minute recess to consider the injunction request. We’ll reconvene at 11:30. Ms. Reyes, I strongly suggest you use this time to reconsider your position.” The gavel fell again, and Judge Ironwood swept out. The hallway outside the courtroom erupted. Reporters swarmed. Luna’s father grabbed her arm and pulled her into a witness room. Her mother followed, still crying. Maya slipped in before Sarah closed the door. “What were you thinking?” Luna’s father’s voice shook. “You just told a federal judge you’ll defy her orders. They’re going to put you in jail, Luna. Do you understand that? Jail!” “Ricardo, please—” Her mother tried to calm him. “No, Elena. Our daughter just committed contempt of court in front of fifty witnesses. They’re going to take her from us.” He turned to Luna, his eyes wet. “Why? Why couldn’t you just apologize? Say you made a mistake? We could have ended this.” “Because I didn’t make a mistake, Papa.” “You destroyed their property!” “It wasn’t their property. It was never their property.” “The law says it was!” “Then the law is wrong!” Her father stepped back as if she’d slapped him. “Do you know what your mother and I have sacrificed to keep you out of trouble? Do you know how hard we’ve worked since we came to this country to give you opportunities we never had? And you throw it away for yeast. Not for justice. Not for people. For yeast.” Luna’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s not about yeast, Papa. It’s about whether corporations get to own life. If Heineken can own yeast, why not bacteria? Why not human genes? Where does it stop?” “It stops when my daughter goes to jail!” He was shouting now. “I don’t care about Heineken. I don’t care about yeast. I care about you. And you just told that judge you’ll defy her. She’s going to put you in jail, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” “Ricardo, por favor—” Elena put her hand on his arm. He shook it off. “No. She needs to hear this. Luna, if you go to jail, your life is over. No college will accept you. No company will hire you. You’ll have a criminal record. You’ll be marked forever. Is that what you want?” “I want to do what’s right.” “What’s right is protecting your family! What’s right is not destroying your future for a principle!” he said. Luna responded, “What’s right is not letting corporations own the code of life!”They stared at each other. Maya spoke up quietly from the corner. “Papa, she can’t back down now. The whole world is watching.” “Let the world watch someone else!” Ricardo turned on Maya. “You encourage this. You film her, you post her manifestos online, you help her become famous. You’re her sister. You’re supposed to protect her, not help her destroy herself.” “I am protecting her,” Maya said. “I’m protecting her from becoming someone who backs down when the world tells her she’s wrong, even though she knows she’s right.” Ricardo looked between his daughters. “Ambos están locos! You’re both insane.” Abuela Rosa opened the door and entered. She’d been listening from the hallway. “Ricardo, enough.” “Mama, stay out of this.” “No.” Rosa moved between Ricardo and Luna. “You’re afraid. I understand. But fear makes you cruel, mijo. Your daughter is brave. She’s doing something important. And you’re making her choose between you and what’s right. Don’t do that.” “She’s seventeen years old! She’s a child!” “She’s old enough to know right from wrong.” Rosa put her hand on Ricardo’s cheek. “When I was sixteen, I left Oaxaca with nothing but the clothes on my back and this SCOBY. Everyone said I was crazy. Your father said I would fail. But I knew I had to go, even if it cost me everything. Sometimes our children have to do things that terrify us. That’s how the world changes.” Ricardo pulled away. “If they put her in jail, will that change the world, Mama? When she’s sitting in a cell while Heineken continues doing whatever they want, will that have been worth it?” “Yes,” Luna said quietly. “Even if I go to jail, yes. Because thousands of people now have the genetic sequences, Heineken can’t put that back. They can punish me, but they can’t undo what I did. The information is free. It’s going to stay free. And if the price of that is me going to jail, then that’s the price.” Her father looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “I don’t know who you are anymore.” “I’m still your daughter, Papa. I’m just also someone who won’t let corporations own life.” A knock on the door. Sarah poked her head in. “They’re reconvening. Luna, we need to go.” Back in the courtroom, the atmosphere had shifted. The gallery was more crowded—word had spread during the recess. Luna recognized several people from online forums. Some held signs reading “FREE LUNA” and “GENETICS BELONG TO EVERYONE.” Judge Ironwood entered and sat without ceremony. “I’ve reviewed the submissions and heard the arguments. This is my ruling.” Luna’s hand found Maya’s in the row behind her. Squeezed tight. “The question before this court is whether to grant Heineken International’s motion for a preliminary injunction requiring Ms. Reyes to assist in suppressing the genetic information she released. To grant such an injunction, Heineken must demonstrate four things: likelihood of success on the merits, likelihood of irreparable harm without the injunction, balance of equities in their favor, and that an injunction serves the public interest.” Barr was nodding. These were his arguments. “Having considered the evidence and the applicable law, I find that Heineken has demonstrated likelihood of success on the merits. Trade secret law clearly protects proprietary business information, and the A-yeast strain appears to meet the legal definition of a trade secret.” Luna’s stomach dropped. “However, I also find that Heineken has failed to demonstrate that a preliminary injunction would effectively prevent the irreparable harm they claim. Ms. Kennerson is correct that the genetic information has already been distributed to over 100,000 people worldwide. Ordering one teenager to provide a list of servers would be, in technical terms, pointless. New copies would appear faster than they could be suppressed.” Barr’s face tightened. “Furthermore, I find that the balance of equities does not favor Heineken. They ask this court to potentially incarcerate a seventeen-year-old girl for refusing to suppress information that is, by her account, factual data about naturally occurring organisms. The potential harm to Ms. Reyes—including detention, criminal record, and foreclosure of educational and career opportunities—substantially outweighs any additional harm Heineken might suffer from continued distribution of information that is already widely distributed.” Luna felt Maya’s grip tighten. Was this good? This sounded good. “Finally, and most importantly, I find that granting this injunction would not serve the public interest. The court takes judicial notice that this case has generated substantial public debate about the scope of intellectual property protection in biotechnology. The questions raised by Ms. Reyes—whether naturally occurring genetic sequences should be ownable, whether facts about nature can be trade secrets, whether knowledge can be property—are questions that deserve answers from a higher authority than this court. These are questions for appellate courts, perhaps ultimately for the Supreme Court. And they are questions best answered in the context of a full trial on the merits, not in an emergency injunction hearing.” Barr was on his feet. “Your honor—” “Sit down, Mr. Barr. I’m not finished.” He sat, his face purple. “Therefore, Heineken International’s motion for preliminary injunction is denied. Ms. Reyes will not be required to assist in suppressing the genetic information she released. However,”—Judge Ironwood looked directly at Luna—”this ruling should not be construed as approval of Ms. Reyes’ actions. Heineken’s claims for damages and other relief remain viable and will proceed to trial. Ms. Reyes, you may have won this battle, but this war is far from over. Anything you want to say?” Luna stood slowly. “Your honor, I just want to say… thank you. For letting this go to trial. For letting these questions be answered properly. That’s all I ever wanted—for someone to seriously consider whether corporations should be allowed to own genetic information about naturally occurring organisms. So thank you.” Judge Ironwood’s expression softened slightly. “Ms. Reyes, I hope you’re prepared for what comes next. Heineken has unlimited resources. They will pursue this case for years if necessary. You’ll be in litigation until you’re twenty-five years old. Your entire young adulthood will be consumed by depositions, court appearances, and legal fees. Are you prepared for that?” “Yes, your honor.” “Why?” Luna glanced at her grandmother, who nodded. “Because some questions are worth answering, your honor. Even if it takes years. Even if it costs everything. The question of whether corporations can own life—that’s worth answering. And if I have to spend my twenties answering it, then that’s what I’ll do.” Judge Ironwood studied her for a long moment. “You remind me of someone I used to know. Someone who believed the law should serve justice, not just power.” She paused. “That person doesn’t exist anymore. The law ground her down. I hope it doesn’t do the same to you.” She raised her gavel. “This hearing is adjourned. The parties will be notified of the trial date once it’s scheduled. Ms. Reyes, good luck. I think you’re going to need it.” The gavel fell. Outside the courthouse, the scene was chaotic. News cameras surrounded Luna. Reporters shouted questions. But Luna barely heard them. She was looking at her father, who stood apart from the crowd, watching her. She walked over to him. “Papa, I’m sorry I yelled.” He didn’t speak for a moment. Then he pulled her into a hug so tight it hurt. “Don’t apologize for being brave,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m just afraid of losing you.” “You won’t lose me, Papa. I promise.” “You can’t promise that. Not anymore.” He pulled back, holding her shoulders. “But I’m proud of you. I’m terrified, but I’m proud.” Her mother joined them, tears streaming down her face. “No more court. Please, no more court.” “I can’t promise that either, Mama.” Elena touched Luna’s face. “Then promise me you’ll be careful. Promise me you’ll remember that you’re not just fighting for genetics. You’re fighting for your life.” Luna smiled. “I promise.” Abuela Rosa appeared, carrying her SCOBY. “Come, mija. We should go before the reporters follow us home.” As they pushed through the crowd toward Maya’s car, Luna's phone buzzed continuously. Text messages and emails pouring in. But what caught her attention was a text from Dr. Webb: You were right. I’m sorry I doubted. Check your email—Dr. Doudna wants to talk. Luna opened her email. The subject line made her stop walking: From: jennifer.doudna@berkeley.eduSubject: Civil Disobedience of the Highest Order She started to read: Dear Ms. Reyes, I watched your hearing this morning. What you did in that courtroom—refusing to back down even when threatened with jail—was one of the bravest things I’ve seen in forty years of science. You’re not just fighting for yeast genetics. You’re fighting for the principle that knowledge about nature belongs to humanity, not to corporations. I want to help… Luna looked up at her family—her father’s worried face, her mother’s tears, Maya’s proud smile, Abuela Rosa’s serene confidence. Behind them, the courthouse where she’d nearly been sent to jail. Around them, reporters and cameras and strangers who’d traveled across the country to support her. She thought about Judge Ironwood’s warning: This war is far from over. She thought about Barr’s face when the injunction was denied. She thought about the thousands who’d downloaded the genetic sequences and were, right now, brewing with genetics that had been locked away for 158 years. Worth it. All of it. Even the fear. Maya opened the car door. “Come on, little revolutionary. Let’s go home.” The Corporate Surrender By 2045, both Heineken and Anheuser-Busch quietly dropped their lawsuits against Luna. Their legal costs had exceeded $200 million while accomplishing nothing except generating bad publicity. More importantly, their “protected” strains had become worthless in a market flooded with superior alternatives. Heineken’s CEO attempted to salvage the company by embracing open-source brewing. His announcement that Heineken would “join the La Luna Revolution” was met with skepticism from the brewing community, which recalled the company’s aggressive legal tactics. The craft brewing community’s response was hostile. “They spent two years trying to destroy her,” a prominent brewmaster told The New Brewer Magazine. “Now they want credit for ’embracing’ the revolution she forced on them? Heineken didn’t join the Luna Revolution—they surrendered to it. There’s a difference.” The global brands never recovered their market share. Luna’s Transformation Luna’s success transformed her from a garage tinkerer into a global icon of the open knowledge movement. Her 2046 TED Talk, “Why Flavor Belongs to Everyone,” went viral. She argued that corporate control over living organisms represented “biological colonialism” that impoverished human culture by restricting natural diversity. Rather than commercializing her fame, Luna founded the Global Fermentation Commons, a nonprofit organization dedicated to preserving and sharing microbial genetics worldwide. Their laboratories operated as open-access research facilities where anyone could experiment with biological systems. The headquarters of the Global Fermentation Commons occupied a former Genentech facility donated by Dr. Webb. Six continents, forty researchers, one mission: preserve and share microbial genetics worldwide. Luna addressed a crowded auditorium at the organization’s third anniversary. “When I released Heineken and Budweiser’s yeast strains, some people called it theft. Others called it liberation. I called it returning biological knowledge to the commons, where it belongs. Three years later, so-called Luna Variants have created economic opportunities for thousands of small brewers, improved food security in developing regions, and demonstrated that genetic freedom drives innovation faster than corporate control.” She continued. “We’re not stopping with beer. The same principles apply to all fermentation: cheese cultures, yogurt bacteria, koji fungi, sourdough starters. Every traditionally fermented food relies on microorganisms that corporations increasingly claim to own. We’re systematically liberating them.” A World Health Organization representative raised a concern: “Ms. Reyes, while we support democratizing food fermentation, there are legitimate concerns about pharmaceutical applications. What prevents someone from using your open-source genetics to create dangerous organisms?” Luna nodded. “Fair question. First, the organisms we release are food-safe cultures with centuries of safe use. Second, dangerous genetic modifications require sophisticated laboratory equipment and expertise—far beyond what releasing genetic sequences enables. Third, determined bad actors already have access to dangerous biology, enabled by AI. We’re not creating new risks; we’re democratizing beneficial biology.” “Pharmaceutical companies argue you’re undermining their investments in beneficial organisms,” another representative pressed. “Pharmaceutical companies invest in modifying organisms,” Luna clarified. “Those modifications can be patented. What we oppose is claiming ownership over naturally occurring organisms or their baseline genetics. If you genetically engineer a bacterium to produce insulin, patent your engineering. Don’t claim ownership over the bacterial species itself.” A Monsanto representative stood. “Your organization recently cracked and released our proprietary seed genetics. That’s direct theft of our property.” Luna didn’t flinch. “Seeds that farmers cultivated for thousands of years before Monsanto existed? You didn’t invent corn, wheat, or soybeans. You modified them. Your modifications may be protectable; the baseline genetics are humanity’s heritage. We’re liberating what should never have been owned.” “The ‘Luna Legion’ has cost us hundreds of millions!” the representative protested. “Good,” Luna responded calmly. “You’ve cost farmers their sovereignty for decades. Consider it karma.” After the presentation, Dr. Doudna approached Luna privately. “You’ve accomplished something remarkable,” the elderly scientist said. “When I developed Crispr, I never imagined a teenager would use similar principles to challenge corporate biology. You’re forcing conversations about genetic ownership that we’ve avoided for decades.” “It needed forcing,” Luna replied. “Corporations were quietly owning life itself, one patent at a time. Someone had to say no.” “The pharmaceutical industry is terrified of you,” Doudna continued. “They see what happened to brewing and imagine the same for their carefully controlled bacterial strains. You’re going to face even more aggressive opposition.” “I know. Once people understand that biological knowledge can be liberated, they start questioning all biological ownership. We’re not stopping.” The New Economy of Taste Following Luna’s breakthrough, peer-to-peer flavor-sharing platforms emerged as the dominant force in food culture. The “FlavorChain” blockchain allowed brewers to track genetic lineages while ensuring proper attribution to original creators. SCOBY lineages were carefully sequenced, catalogued, and registered on global blockchain ledgers. Each award-winning kombucha strain carried a “genetic passport”—its microbial makeup, the unique balance of yeasts and bacteria that gave rise to particular mouthfeel, fizz, and flavor spectrum, was mapped, hashed, and permanently recorded. Brewers who created a new flavor could claim authorship, just as musicians once copyrighted songs. No matter how many times a SCOBY was divided, its fingerprint could be verified. Fermentation Guilds formed to share recipes through FlavorChain, enabling decentralized digital markets like SymbioTrdr, built on trust and transparency rather than speculation. They allowed people to interact and transact on a global, permissionless, self-executing platform. Within days, a SCOBY strain from the Himalayas could appear in a brew in Buenos Aires, its journey traced through open ledgers showing who tended, adapted, and shared it. Kombucha recipes were no longer jealously guarded secrets. They were open to anyone who wanted to brew. With a few clicks, a Guild member in Nairobi could download the blockchain-verified SCOBY genome that had won Gold at the Tokyo Fermentation Festival. Local biotech printers—as common in 2100 kitchens as microwave ovens had once been—could reconstitute the living culture cell by cell. Children began inheriting SCOBY lineages the way earlier generations inherited family names. Weddings combined SCOBY cultures as symbolic unions. (Let’s share our SCOBYs, baby, merge our ferments into one.) When someone died, their SCOBY was divided among friends and family—a continuation of essence through taste. Kombucha was no longer merely consumed; it was communed with. This transparency transformed kombucha from a minority regional curiosity into a universal language. A festival in Brazil might feature ten local interpretations of the same “Golden SCOBY” strain—one brewed with passionfruit, another with cupuaçu, a third with açaí berries. The core microbial signature remained intact, while the terroir of fruit and spice gave each version a unique accent. Brewers didn’t lose their craft—they gained a canvas. Award-winning SCOBYs were the foundations on which endless new flavor experiments flourished. Many people were now as prolific as William Esslinger, the founder of St Louis’s Confluence Kombucha, who was renowned for developing 800 flavors in the 2020s. Code of Symbiosis The Symbiosis Code, ratified at the first World Fermentation Gathering in Reykjavik (2063), bound Fermentation Guilds to three principles: Transparency — All microbial knowledge is to be shared freely. Reciprocity — No brew should be produced without acknowledging the source. Community — Every fermentation must nourish more than the brewer. This code replaced corporate law. It was enforced by reputation, not by governments. A Guild member who betrayed the code found their SCOBYs mysteriously refusing to thrive—a poetic justice the biologists never quite explained. Every Guild had elders—called Mothers of the Jar or Keepers of the Yeast. They carried living SCOBYs wrapped in silk pouches when traveling, exchanging fragments as blessings. These elders became moral anchors of the age, counselors and mediators trusted more than politicians. When disputes arose—over territory, resources, or ethics—brewers, not lawyers, met to share a round of Truth Brew, a ferment so balanced that it was said to reveal dishonesty through bitterness. The Fullness of Time The International Biotech Conference of 2052 invited Luna to give the closing keynote—a controversial decision that prompted several corporate sponsors to withdraw support. The auditorium was packed with supporters, critics, and the merely curious. “Nine years ago, I released genetic sequences for beer yeast strains protected as trade secrets. I was called a thief, a bioterrorist, worse. Today, I want to discuss what we’ve learned from those years of open-source biology.” She displayed a chart showing the explosion of brewing innovation since 2043. “In the traditional corporate model, a few companies control a few strains, producing a limited variety. With the open-source model, thousands of brewers using thousands of variants, producing infinite diversity. As Duff McDonald wrote “Anything that alive contains the universe, or infinite possibility. Kombucha is infinite possibility in a drink.” And the results speak for themselves—flavor innovation accelerated a thousand-fold when we removed corporate control.” A student activist approached the microphone. “Ms. Reyes, you’ve inspired movements to liberate seed genetics, soil bacteria, and traditional medicine cultures. The ‘Luna Legion’ is spreading globally. What’s your message to young people who want to continue this work?” Luna smiled. “First, understand the risks. I was sued by multinational corporations, received death threats, spent years fighting legal battles. This work has costs. Second, be strategic. Release information you’ve generated yourself through legal methods—no hacking, no theft. Third, build communities. I survived because people supported me—legally, financially, emotionally. You can’t fight corporations alone. Finally, remember why you’re doing it: to return biological knowledge to the commons where it belongs. That purpose will sustain you through the hard parts.” Teaching By twenty-eight, Luna was a MacArthur Fellow, teaching fermentation workshops in a converted Anheuser-Busch facility. As she watched her students—former corporate employees learning to think like ecosystems rather than factories—she reflected that her teenage hack had accomplished more than liberating yeast genetics. She had helped humanity remember that flavor, like knowledge, grows stronger when shared rather than hoarded. Luna’s garage had evolved into a sophisticated community biolab. The original jury-rigged equipment had been replaced with professional gear funded by her MacArthur Fellowship. Abuela Rosa still maintained her fermentation crocks in the corner—a reminder of where everything started. A group of five
I sat down with William Esslinger of Confluence Kombucha in St. Louis, Missouri. We’d just left the three-day KBI conference in Barcelona and were having lunch at Munich Airport before catching our respective connecting flights. It was William’s first time in Germany, if you count being in an airport transit lounge as being in a country. What follows is an edited transcript of our conversation. The full audio is available as a podcast at the end of this post. The Confluence Kombucha Fermentory & Ping Pong Club is located at The Fox Den, 2501 S. Jefferson Avenue, Suite 102, St. Louis, MO 63104. It is open from 11 a.m.–7 p.m. Thursday through Sunday. Confluence Kombucha is also a regular vendor at the Tower Grove Farmers' Market. Booch News: How did you discover kombucha? I started brewing kombucha in 2009 and working in kitchens all in a span of three days. I’d graduated with my master’s in media literacy education, and wanted to teach about the constructs of media and how to use media, how to create with different kinds of media, video, photography, using sound, all that kind of stuff. And so that’s my background. But I couldn’t find a job, so I started working as a dishwasher at age 29. I was making six bucks an hour with a master’s degree. I ordered my first kombucha culture online. I’d been drinking kombucha for about a year and a half prior to that, and it basically healed my ulcers that I’d had since I was five years old. That kombucha completely healed it. I haven’t had any incidents since. I can still remember as a young person having so much pain all the time. Every single day, a burning, like an ice pick in my intestines, every time I ate. I had this severe problem. And it then drinking kombucha cured it. So, I tell people, if you really want to do this kombucha thing, you need to be drinking it. Every day. Maybe take a day off here and there. But when people start, if they’re very used to a crappy diet, they’re going to feel a little worse, maybe because they’re flushing out stuff. But you get such a vibe out of drinking every day. That was just the beginning of the healing journey with kombucha. So much more healing has happened physically and mentally through this process. Just living with the SCOBYs every day. I didn’t really think about it as a business. BN: How did your career in catering take off? I’d started working in kitchens, and graduated from dish washing to working as a chef. After about three months of dish washing, they had me come on as a prep chef during the day. It was a big corporate restaurant, and I got pretty bored with it, but I had met someone I went to photography school with. He was opening a new restaurant called Blood & Sand with one of the top chefs in St. Louis at the time. He gave me a job, saying they can’t pay much, but they gave me an education. I got the last cook position on the line. And they didn’t really know what to do with me because I was brand-new, even though I’m almost 30 now. They said they would treat me like I knew nothing. And that was the best education. On-the-job training. BN: How did your career in the culinary world prepare you to run a kombucha business? We started fermenting stuff right away. They wanted me to make some kimchi. The chef didn’t know how to do it. But I had spent a couple of years in Korea and learned when I was over there. And I had just started brewing kombucha. It started to feel like fermentation was my path. Food was my path. And since it cured my ulcers, I started to be able to eat all the things I was never able to eat. I never thought of becoming a chef or anything like that because food was such a pain point for me. Then they started handing me the pastry stuff. Because they were all line cooks. They didn’t want to deal with this finicky shit with the temperature and all that. It didn’t fit in with everything else. But my background in photography, doing black and white film developing, the exacting process, the temperature, was already there for me. They started giving me one little project at a time. And they’re like, this kid’s nailing it, right? So they basically just made me a pastry chef. And I was making like $10 an hour, which was great. BN: How did working in the kitchens lead to opening a commercial kombucha business? I kept working in restaurants. And then, I finally thought maybe I got something here with the kombucha. I was developing flavors from the beginning. I kept all my notes. I now have over 800 flavors. I’ve got a spreadsheet of everything I’ve been doing since we opened our doors. Before I left for this trip, I did three new kombuchas in one week. I’ve been doing everything on draft and kegs since we opened our brick-and-mortar in 2016. It’s been all kegs. The idea was just to have a tap room. And the first iteration was a tap room/restaurant. And so, for five years, I ran the restaurant and did the fermentation on-site. It was 1,000 square feet. It was super tiny. The whole thing. I had 15 seats if you really pushed it tight in the inside of the restaurant. And we had some patio seating in the front and the back, with a little garden where we would grow herbs and other things we would use in the kombucha as well. A lot of people were dropping in. We got a lot of recognition. We didn’t know what kombucha would be like in St. Louis. I knew I could run a restaurant, and I had good ideas. The restaurant took front seat for most of that time. It was more of a restaurant with a little bit of kombucha. We had eight taps going, so you could come in and do an eight-flight or a four-flight, then take stuff to go, filling pints, quarts, and growlers. When COVID happened, my business partner decided to split. I closed the restaurant and started focusing on kombucha. So it’s only really been four years of focusing on the brewery. BN: What is Confluence Kombucha like today? We’re in the second iteration right now. There was a brewery, a kombucha brewery in St. Louis called KomBlu, that opened in the space that I’m in now. And they closed. And then another brewery opened in there, and then they closed. And then the building’s owner called me. He said, ‘We have this defunct kombucha brewery if you’d like to come look at it’. It had a bunch of stainless-steel vessels, a reverse-osmosis filter, and a huge cooler. So we did a bit of renovation and made it my own. I built the fermentation room. And then we opened that in leap year 2023. February 29th. We also make other fermented products, like coconut yogurt and kimchi. The volume is going up. We started bottling in this facility because we had the room. We’ve done 20,000 12-ounce bottles in 18 months. It’s a short-neck bottle that works because I don’t have to worry as much about it over-carbonating. It has a little bit of space. I think that’s really important. The bottles are cute, they’re fun. The labeling is really incredible. It’s playful and fun. We have a 12-tap room with a ping-pong table and vinyl records. The fermentation happens in the back. People can come in on Thursday and return on Sunday, and the board will be different. Flavors Confluence bottles just four flavors. The Pineapple Palo Santo won the Signature category at the World Kombucha Awards. The flavor combines fruity notes from pineapple with the coconut-like aroma of Palo Santo—a fragrant tree wood often used as incense—resulting in a tropical drink reminiscent of a piña colada. Confluence Kombucha also won two other Awards for one-off flavors offered on tap that William had entered into the competition: Jun & Holy Basil (Gold for the Jun category) Paw Paw & Rum Barrel (Silver for the Fruits with Spices category) Esslinger, who started bottling his kombucha a year ago, after a decade in business comments: “It was my first year competing, and I didn't expect to win.” At the competition, Esslinger found it exciting and validating to discover that some of his new ideas are very much in line with what's happening globally. For example, he recently brewed kombucha using cypress tea and was able to compare notes with brewers from Slovenia who brought a kombucha they had made with cedar and spruce chips. “It was cool to get that nerd connection right away.” Esslinger chose the name Confluence based on St. Louis geography–located at the confluence of the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers–but he says it has come to represent a larger vision, one that the World Kombucha Awards intensified. “As an artist and a food person inspired by world cuisines, the name has gathered more depth because it evokes something,” he says. “There's a power in the idea of waterways merging, and we're trying to uphold that every day in what we do.” BN: Tell me about your flavors. We have an Aronia Berry with Elderberry flavor. Aronia is the berry with the highest amount of antioxidants that grows in America. We met a local grower. And I loved it right away because it was so similar to the very first kombucha I had. Which was Cosmic Cranberry from GT’s. And the nickname for Aronia used to be Chokeberry. It’s a terrible name. But it’s so tannic that when you take it off the bush, you try to eat it. It chokes you up and dries out your mouth. But that’s the good stuff. We put the berries in the freezer to extract their flavor. Another flavor is Watermelon and Blue Spirulina. Ginger Lavender has been our bestseller for a very long time. We color that one with the butterfly pea flower. And it makes it bright violet and adds calcium to the beverage. I tell people that this was the flavor I never wanted to do. Because everybody was doing ginger. And everybody was asking me, Do you do ginger? Do you do lavender? And it took me 10 years to make this kombucha. And then it just started selling. The base tea is Japanese sencha green tea. Because that’s toasty. You can taste the tea. It’s a very low-vibration kombucha. I like it because I can get my subtle flavors in there really, really easily. I landed on the green tea, because I feel like it’s a blank canvas. It gives me a really good place to work from. But then we’re, you know, we’re doing very small, tiny-batch stuff with other teas, just for fun. I don’t sell an original, unflavored right now. Maybe in the future I would love to do that. I like messing with all the crazy, different teas for myself and for the tap room, like Lapsang Souchong and the smoked black tea. I update my Instagram every day or at least every week. I do have them all in a book. I have every single one that I’ve ever done in the book. BN: Do you have ideas that just don’t work out? Like you think, oh, I’ll mix this and this and this, and then you taste it. Not so much anymore. There are a few in there that just weren’t really great, but overall, I think I’ve got good ratios. I’ve just been doing it in such small batches for so long that, if I waste five gallons or three gallons, it’s no big deal. And then we save the pellicle and make fruit leathers with it. The first one I did, I forgot about it for a year. And I pulled them out, and they were like, perfect. No preservatives or anything like that. Kids love them. I have a lady who comes by and buys about $50 worth of them every other week at the farmers’ market. That comes from my chef background. And I think also, just like growing up poor. Trying to think about every way to utilize everything. And it’s actually really fun, and it’s a great story to tell people. Because they see me as a brewer in a different way. How I’m thinking about even the waste product. People who are maybe skeptical or have their own ideas about a kombucha brewer or something. That sets them at ease a little bit more. Because I think kombucha is still very much a mystery to most people. And it’s still a mystery to me, in some ways, too. BN: What are some of the unusual ferments you experimented with? I’m most interested in using mushrooms as the base for my kombucha. And I see a synergy in the fermentation process that I don’t necessarily see in teas. Instead, it’s mushrooms made into tea: reishi, chaga, lion’s mane, and cordyceps. We just did one, the pheasant’s back, which is also known as the dryad’s saddle. I’ve done chanterelles They only ferment half the time. BN: So you don’t need the caffeine? No, the synergy, because they are so close that most of those fermentations take about half the time as my normal fermentations do. The only one that doesn’t is the chaga, and the chaga is the one that takes the longest to grow anyway. It tastes like a birch beer. Almost like a root beer. BN: So what you’re doing is, instead of using camellia sinensis? You’re doing the primary fermentation with a mushroom extract? With just mushroom tea and sugar, just throw in the SCOBY and some starter tea. And it tastes totally different. Oh my gosh, it’s ridiculous! Like chanterelles taste like apricots and peaches. One of the wildest, funnest ones is a polypore one. It’s a black-staining polypore where I make the tea, and it’s black tea. It turns black. And then, through fermentation, the scoby, the microbes, and everything clear the liquid so it’s not black anymore. It tastes tropical, like pineapples and guava. Nothing else. But when you make the tea, it smells like gravy. It smells so brothy and big like that. But then, at the end of fermentation, it tastes like pineapples. It’s really amazing. We are also using honey with those mushrooms. I did a chanterelle with honey this year. And then we poured it off of nitro. And it was so soft, velvety, and creamy from the mushrooms. The chaga mushroom ones take about three to six months. So I have one shelf that’s just dedicated to the chaga mushroom. And it’s incredible. It’s easily one of my favorite ones to work with. I don’t sell it outside the tap room. BN: What plans do you have for the future? I have 2,000 square feet. And so it’s not much, but it is just a brewery. I’m trying to increase quantities so I can continue doing it and feel like I can support a cast and a crew. In the future, I hope we will be distributed regionally, maybe in Chicago, Memphis, Nashville, and Kansas City. And yeah, I’d expect to be working with some of the high-end clients. That’s what I have going for me already. I’m inspired by those worlds, and making pairings, tastings, and those kinds of things aren’t happening in the kombucha world. I’ve been doing that for a very long time. I have extensive experience creating menus and pairing food with kombucha. I think that’s the whole new level of what could be happening in the dining scenes. And I think it’s showing up. That’s just a fun place to be. Even though it’s been 30 years since GT started his company, I still think there’s so much room to do a lot more fun stuff. BN: Well, we both have flights to catch back to the States. Thanks a lot. Podcast Listen to the podcast for the recording of the lunchtime interview with William in the transit lounge at Munich Airport. The post Confluence Kombucha, St. Louis, Missouri appeared first on 'Booch News.
This is one in a series about possible futures, which will be published in Booch News over the coming weeks. Episode 6 appeared last week. New episodes drop every Friday. Introduction Legacy beverage corporations attempting hostile takeovers of kombucha startups failed to understand the living systems involved. Their sterile production methods eliminated beneficial microorganisms, while regulatory capture backfired as health authorities mandated probiotic content. Mega-Cola’s final CEO, James Morrison, desperately tried fermenting cola using SCOBYs, creating undrinkable disasters. This episode chronicles the corporation’s transformation from global giant to urban composting service, with former executives becoming mushroom farmers in Detroit’s abandoned factories. The $49 Billion Graveyard: When Giants Couldn’t Learn to Dance Harvard Business School’s legendary case study “The Mega-Cola Kombucha Catastrophe” became required reading for understanding how industrial thinking proved fatal in the biological economy. Between 2035 and 2042, legacy beverage corporations spent $48.7 billion attempting to acquire kombucha startups, only to discover that living systems couldn’t be purchased—they could only be cultivated. Mega-Cola’s acquisition spree began aggressively in 2035 under CEO James Morrison, a chemical engineer before ascending to the C-suite. He’d once loved the alchemy of bubbles and sweetness. His father had worked at a bottling plant; he’d grown up thinking carbonation was progress. He viewed kombucha as merely another “disruption” to be absorbed and had become a champion of “hydration portfolios”—a polite euphemism for diversifying out of soda into teas, waters, and ferments. The company spent $12.7 billion acquiring 47 kombucha brands, from market leader Health-Ade to smaller artisanal producers like Portland’s Brew Dr Kombucha. Morrison’s strategy seemed logical: leverage Mega-Cola’s distribution network and manufacturing scale to dominate the emerging probiotic market. The Sterilization Disaster The first catastrophic failure occurred when Mega-Cola attempted to scale Humm Kombucha production at its Oregon facility. Morrison stood before a 10,000-gallon fermentation tank—ten times the size of any used by the acquired kombucha companies. Chief Science Officer Dr. Hiram Walsh explained the modifications they’d made. “We’ve adapted our quality control protocols from our soft drink lines,” Walsh said proudly. “Every input is filtered, pasteurized, and chemically treated. We’ve eliminated 99.9% of microbial contamination risk.” Walsh pulled up charts showing their testing results. “Batch consistency is perfect. Zero deviation. Every bottle identical.” Morrison smiled. “Exactly what we wanted. When do we start distribution?” “Next week,” Walsh confirmed. “We’re calling it MegaBucha. Focus groups love the name.” One week later, Morrison sat in an emergency meeting. The first consumer feedback was catastrophic. Walsh read from report after report: “‘Tastes like carbonated vinegar.’ ‘Chemical aftertaste.’ ‘Nothing like real kombucha.’ ‘Dead and flat.’ Return rates are 87%.” Walsh looked confused. “I don't understand it. The bacteria counts are perfect. We followed their recipes exactly.” On the teleconference screen, Health-Ade founder Vanessa Dew shook her head. “You killed it. Your ‘quality control’ eliminated every living organism. Kombucha isn’t about sterility—it’s about controlled biological diversity. You can’t pasteurize and filter kombucha and expect it to remain the same. You’ve simply made acidic sugar water.” Morrison spluttered, “We spent $2.1 billion acquiring your company. We’re not walking away because of ‘quality control’ issues.” “It’s not quality control—it’s biology,” Vanessa explained. “Kombucha cultures need biodiversity to thrive. Your system is built to prevent exactly that.” Morrison’s jaw tightened. “Then we’ll adjust the process. Keep some bacteria alive.” Vanessa sighed. “Your entire facility is designed to kill microbes. Your pipes, your tanks, your air filtration, your worker protocols—everything optimized for sterility. You’d have to rebuild from scratch. And even then, you’d need to fundamentally rethink how you approach production. Living systems don’t work like machines.” The company had overlooked the success of the UK’s ROBOT Kombucha, the “A.I. Cola” replicated cola’s taste in a fermented drink, becoming the beverage of choice for adults who had first tasted it as teenagers when it was introduced in 2025. Founder Pascal du Bois had selected his ingredients from a range of different organic botanicals from which the flavor was extracted. He then created a complex blend of more than a dozen types of bacteria and four strains of organic yeast. After fermenting for seven weeks they add a teaspoon of 100% organic honey, sourced from France, to each can. This mimics the familiar cola taste without added sugars or aspartame. The result was a healthy alternative designed to appeal to cola lovers, not a standardized Frankenbooch. Dr. Kenji Nakamura—the former Genentech researcher who later founded the Eastridge Mall Kollective—was hired as a $5 million consultant to solve the Mega-Cola problem. His report sat on Morrison’s desk—200 pages detailing why Mega-Cola’s approach couldn’t work. “I’ll cut to the conclusion,” Nakamura said. “Your industrial infrastructure is fundamentally incompatible with living beverages. Your entire supply chain is designed to kill exactly what makes kombucha valuable.” Morrison leaned forward. “We paid you to find solutions, not problems.” “The solution is accepting that some things can’t be industrialized,” Nakamura replied calmly. “Kombucha succeeds because of microbial relationships that develop over time through careful cultivation. You’re trying to force-manufacture relationships. It’s like trying to raise children in a morgue—the environment is hostile to life. Your kombucha tastes bad because you’ve optimized the life out of it. You can’t ‘optimize’ life—you can only cultivate it.” Mega-Cola CFO Samantha Chen pulled up financial projections. “We’ve now spent $14.8 billion on kombucha acquisitions and infrastructure. We need to either make this work or write off the entire investment.” Nakamura shook his head. “Every dollar you spend trying to industrialize kombucha is wasted. The companies you acquired succeeded because they were small—they could maintain microbial diversity, respond to batch variation, cultivate living systems. Scale destroys those advantages.” Morrison’s face reddened. “Are you telling me that a bunch of hippies in Portland can do something Mega-Cola, with our resources and expertise, cannot?” “Yes,” Nakamura said simply. “Because they’re not trying to dominate biology. They’re partnering with it. Your entire corporate culture is about control, optimization, standardization. Living systems require adaptation, diversity, patience. Those are fundamentally incompatible approaches.” Morrison stood. “We’ll find someone else. Someone who can make this work.” Nakamura gathered his materials. “You’ll spend millions more reaching the same conclusion. Biology doesn’t care about your quarterly earnings or your market cap. You can’t buy your way out of this.” After Nakamura left, Morrison and Chen sat in silence. Chen finally spoke. “He’s right, you know.” Morrison didn’t respond. The Regulatory Trap: When Capture Became Captivity Legacy corporations had initially celebrated the FDA’s Probiotic Verification Act of 2038, which they had lobbied for extensively. The law required all “live beverage” products to contain minimum concentrations of beneficial bacteria, verified through independent testing. Mega-Cola’s legal team believed this would create barriers for small producers while giving large corporations with deep pockets competitive advantages through regulatory compliance costs. The strategy backfired catastrophically. While artisanal kombucha producers thrived under the new standards—their naturally diverse microbial ecosystems easily exceeded requirements—corporate products consistently failed testing. Mega-Cola spent $20 million on fermentation consultants and biotechnology acquisitions, but its sterile facilities couldn’t maintain the mandated bacterial diversity. Meanwhile, in the company boardroom, a tense meeting took place. Chen read the headline from a Wall Street Journal article: “Mega-Cola’s ‘Kombucha’ Contains Fewer Probiotics Than Yogurt, FDA Testing Reveals.“ Morrison stared at the headline. “How did this happen?” “Our sterilization processes,” Walsh admitted. “We can’t maintain bacterial counts through our production and distribution systems. The small producers can because they’re working with robust, diverse cultures in small batches. We’re working with weakened, standardized cultures in massive volumes. The bacteria die.” The legal counsel shifted uncomfortably. “The regulation we pushed for is now our biggest problem. We can’t legally call our product kombucha. We could petition the FDA to lower the standards—” Morrison’s voice was quiet. “How much have we spent trying to fix this?” Chen checked her tablet. “$20.3 million on fermentation consultants and biotechnology acquisitions. None of it worked.” The Medical Tsunami: Soda as Poison By 2040, the medical evidence against sugar-laden sodas had become overwhelming. The American Heart Association officially classified high-fructose corn syrup as a “Class II toxin,” requiring warning labels similar to tobacco. The crisis came to a head when the Journal of the American Heart Association published “The Corporate Diabetes Epidemic: A Century of Metabolic Warfare” in 2041. The paper demonstrated that diabetes and obesity rates directly correlated with Mega-Cola’s market penetration across 147 countries. Areas with higher Cola consumption showed disease patterns resembling chemical contamination rather than natural illness. Dr. Harold Lustig presented twenty years of longitudinal research to a packed auditorium. The screen behind him showed stark data: “Regular soda consumption increases diabetes risk by 340%. It shortens lifespan by an average of 7.4 years. We’re officially classifying high-fructose corn syrup as a Class II toxin, requiring warning labels similar to tobacco.” Mega-Cola CEO Morrison watched from the back. His phone buzzed constantly—board members, investors, media requesting comment. Lustig continued: “Children who drink one soda daily show measurable delays in brain development compared to peers consuming fermented beverages. Brain imaging reveals high-fructose corn syrup literally shrinks the prefrontal cortex.” A reporter raised his hand. “Are you saying soda causes brain damage?” “I’m saying the evidence strongly suggests regular soda consumption impairs cognitive development,” Lustig responded. “Meanwhile, children consuming diverse fermented foods show superior health outcomes across every metric we measured.” Morrison left before the Q&A. In the hallway, CFO Chen was waiting. “The stock dropped 12% during the presentation,” she said quietly. “Investors are calling soda ‘the new tobacco.'” Morrison stared out the window at the Washington Monument. “We knew sugar was problematic. We’ve been reformulating—” “It’s not just sugar,” Chen interrupted. “It’s the entire category. Industrial beverages versus living fermentation. We’re on the wrong side.” “We’re a $300 billion company,” Morrison said. “We can’t just pivot to kombucha. We tried that. It failed.” Chen’s voice was gentle but firm. “Then maybe we need to accept that some companies don’t survive paradigm shifts.” The Educational Exodus: Schools Declare War on Soda The Los Angeles Unified School District’s vote to ban all non-fermented beverages in schools attracted phalanxes of Mega-Cola lobbyists and lawyers. A Mega-Cola representative presented their case: “Banning our beverages punishes students from low-income families who can’t afford expensive alternatives. We’re prepared to offer healthier formulations—” A parent cut him off. “You’ve been promising ‘healthier formulations’ for thirty years while marketing addictive sugar-water to our children.” Dr. Rebecca Scharf's groundbreaking research demonstrated that children who were given an alternative to sugar-sweetened soda were healthier. The school district called her as an expert witness. She summarized her findings: “Two years after schools switched to kombucha dispensaries with on-campus fermentation labs, we see 67% reduction in behavioral problems, 45% improvement in test scores, 89% decrease in childhood obesity.” A high school student approached the microphone. “I’m sixteen. I grew up drinking your soda. I was diagnosed with pre-diabetes at fourteen. Since switching to fermented beverages, my health has improved. But my little brother is eight—he’s never had soda, only fermentation. He’s healthier than I ever was. You took my health. Don’t take his.” By 2052, 43 states had implemented similar bans. The “Fermentation Generation”—children who grew up drinking school-provided kombucha—showed dramatically superior health outcomes compared to predecessors who consumed soda. These children literally rejected Mega-Cola on a physiological level; their optimized gut microbiomes found industrial beverages repulsive. Medical Prescriptions Against Corporate Beverages The American Academy of Pediatrics’ 2044 guidelines required doctors to “prescribe against” soda consumption, treating it as seriously as smoking cessation recommendations. Insurance companies began covering kombucha prescriptions while penalizing patients who tested positive for high-fructose corn syrup consumption. Dr. Chen’s research (detailed in Episode 2) provided the scientific foundation for these medical interventions. Her studies proved that even occasional soda consumption disrupted the personalized gut microbiomes that enabled optimal cognitive function. Doctors began prescribing specific kombucha strains to repair metabolic damage caused by years of consuming industrial beverages. Morrison’s Tower Disaster: Industrial Control Meets Living Systems Following his 2050 visit to Aberdeen’s agricultural tower, Morrison commissioned twelve “MegaTower” facilities across North America, investing $8.4 billion in what he called “industrial-scale fermentation infrastructure.” His engineers replicated the physical structure perfectly—1,200-meter climate-controlled spires with alternating tea cultivation and kombucha production floors. The catastrophe unfolded within months. Morrison’s towers, designed for efficiency optimization, automated every process that Aberdeen’s workers performed intuitively. Computer algorithms regulated temperature, humidity, and nutrient delivery with microsecond precision, eliminating “human inefficiency.” The tea plants withered. The SCOBYs died. Dr. MacLeod’s warnings proved prophetic: Morrison had copied the machinery while killing the ecosystem. His sterile protocols eliminated the beneficial fungi, bacteria, and insects that made Aberdeen’s floors function as living environments. His “optimized” nutrient solutions lacked the complexity of naturally composting tea waste. His automated systems couldn’t respond to the subtle biological cues that experienced cultivators recognized instinctively. By 2053, all twelve MegaTowers stood empty—$8.4 billion monuments to the fundamental incompatibility between industrial control and biological partnership. The failure accelerated Mega-Cola’s eventual bankruptcy, proving that living systems cannot be purchased; they can only be cultivated. Morrison’s Desperate Gambit: Fermented Cola Stung by his failed “MegaTower” experiments, Morrison staked Mega-Cola’s survival on developing fermented cola using modified SCOBYs. The “New Cola Kombucha” project consumed $67 million over three years, employing thousands of microbiologists and fermentation specialists. The results were universally catastrophic. Dr. Park, a fermentation specialist hired from Korea, led Morrison through the lab. Rows of fermentation vessels bubbled with dark liquid. Scientists monitored bacterial counts, pH levels, sugar content. “We’ve engineered SCOBY cultures that can ferment in the presence of cola flavorings,” Park explained. “It’s taken three years, but we have a stable culture.” Morrison looked hopeful for the first time in years. “And it tastes good?” Park hesitated. “It tastes… interesting.” They entered a tasting room where twenty focus group participants sat with cups of dark, fizzy liquid. Morrison watched through one-way glass as participants tasted the fermented cola. The reactions were immediate and universal: grimacing, coughing, one person actually gagged. “Fizzy coffee grounds mixed with cleaning products,” one person said. “Like someone fermented tire rubber,” another offered. “I think I can taste failure,” a third concluded. Park pulled Morrison aside. “The SCOBY cultures are stressed by the chemical additives in cola formulation. They’re producing unusual compounds—not toxic, exactly, but profoundly unpleasant. They’re causing gastrointestinal distress in 89% of test subjects.” Morrison stared at the focus group, then turned to Park. “Give me options. Can we adjust the flavor profile? Different additives?” “We’ve tried 47 formulations,” Park explained. “The problem isn’t the recipe—it’s the fundamental incompatibility between cola chemistry and healthy fermentation at this scale. The bacteria are literally stressed by the environment we’re asking them to live in.” “So what you’re telling me is that fermented cola is impossible?” Park hesitated. “I’m telling you that your version of fermented cola—one that tastes like Mega-Cola but contains living bacteria—is impossible. If you were willing to let go of the cola formula entirely and create something new…” “Then it wouldn’t be Mega-Cola,” Morrison insisted. “That’s what I’m trying to save.” Morrison sank into a chair. “How much have we spent on this?” “$67 million,” Park confirmed. “And it’s undrinkable.” “Yes.” Morrison laughed bitterly. “We can put a man on Mars, but we can’t ferment cola.” Park’s voice was kind. “We can’t ferment cola because we’re trying to put it on Mars. Fermentation requires accepting biology on its own terms. We keep trying to force it into our industrial model. Biology keeps refusing.” The FDA’s emergency recall of Morrison’s prototype batches in 2059 triggered the final collapse of investor confidence. The Bankruptcy Cascade: Industrial Liquidation Mega-Cola declared bankruptcy on November 1, 2060—the Mexican Day of the Dead seemed grimly appropriate for the death of an American institution. The company’s $284 billion in debts exceeded its assets by a factor of three, as brand value evaporated alongside consumer demand. The company was not alone. BigSoda collapsed six months later, then Dr Gipper —the third-ranking cola in the world —creating a cascade of corporate failures worth over $1.2 trillion. Morrison sat alone in his office as the board meeting proceeded via video conference. The board chair spoke: “The FDA has issued an emergency recall of all New Cola Kombucha prototypes after test subjects required hospitalization. Our stock price has fallen 89% from its peak. Our debt exceeds assets. We have no choice.” Morrison knew what he must announce. “Mega-Cola Corporation is filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection, effective immediately.” On screens across America, news anchors delivered the story. Morrison watched employees leave the building carrying boxes. Fifty thousand jobs ending. A century-old brand dying. Chen entered his office quietly. “I’m sorry, James.” Morrison didn’t turn from the window. “You tried to warn me. Back in 2035. You asked if we could industrialize biology without killing what made it valuable.” “I did.” “The answer was no.” “I guess I just didn't listen.” Morrison was quiet for a long moment. “I spent my whole career optimizing systems, maximizing efficiency, scaling operations. I was good at it. But biology doesn’t care about efficiency. It cares about diversity, resilience, relationships. Everything I knew how to do was wrong for this.” Chen sat beside him. “What will you do now?” Morrison laughed without humor. “I’m 62 years old. My entire career has been corporate optimization. I don’t know how to do anything else.” “You could learn,” Chen suggested. “Learn what?” Morrison asked. “How to brew kombucha in my garage? I destroyed people’s livelihoods trying to industrialize something that shouldn’t be industrialized. I don’t deserve to be part of what comes next.” “Maybe that’s exactly why you should be,” Chen said softly. “You understand what doesn’t work. That’s valuable knowledge.” The liquidation auctions became symbols of industrial obsolescence. Mega-Cola’s Detroit headquarters sold for $47 million to the Georgia Fermentation Kollective, which converted the building into vertical kombucha gardens. The iconic “Land of Cola” museum became the “Museum of Metabolic Harm,” displaying artifacts from humanity’s sugar-addiction era alongside warnings about corporate food manipulation. Urban Composting: From Soda to Soil Morrison’s personal transformation paralleled that of his company. After Mega-Cola’s bankruptcy, he founded “Regenerative Detroit,” converting abandoned bottling plants into urban composting facilities that produced soil for vertical tea gardens. His memoir, From Syrup to SCOBY: A CEO’s Redemption, became a bestseller, chronicling his journey from corporate predator to ecological steward. Nakamura, the consultant who told Morrison his approach would fail, visited the facility. “You were right,” Morrison said without preamble. “Everything you said in that meeting. I spent five more years and hundreds of millions trying to prove you wrong, only to end up proving you right.” Nakamura watched Morrison teach a teenage girl how to inoculate a growing medium with mushroom spores. “This is unexpected. I thought you’d retire to a beach somewhere, try to forget.” Morrison laughed. “I tried that for six months. I was miserable. Spent forty years destroying things. Figured I should spend whatever time I have left trying to build something.” “Why composting?” “Because it’s the opposite of what I did at Mega-Cola,” Morrison explained. “There, we tried to force sterility, eliminate variability, control every process. Here, we cultivate diversity, encourage complexity, work with biological systems rather than against them. We take waste and transform it into something useful. It’s… healing, I guess.” A teenager approached. “Mr. Morrison, my mushrooms are growing!” Morrison’s face lit up. “Let me see!” He examined her cultivation tray with genuine excitement. “Beautiful! You maintained perfect humidity. These will be ready to harvest in two weeks.” After the children left for lunch, Nakamura and Morrison walked through the facility. “How many people work here?” Nakamura asked. “Forty-seven,” Morrison responded. “Thirty-two are former Mega-Cola employees. When the company collapsed, they lost everything. I felt responsible. So I used what was left of my savings to buy this facility and train them in regenerative agriculture.” “And the composting is profitable?” Morrison shrugged. “We break even. Barely. But that’s not really the point. The point is transforming industrial waste into living soil. The point is teaching the next generation that decay isn’t the enemy—it’s the beginning of new life. The point is learning to think like an ecosystem instead of a corporation.” They stopped before a wall displaying Morrison’s memoir: From Syrup to SCOBY: A CEO’s Redemption. “I read your book,” Nakamura said. “Brutal self-assessment.” “Had to be,” Morrison replied. “I spent decades helping build a system that made billions by making people sick. If I’m going to do anything meaningful with the rest of my life, I need to be honest about what I did wrong.” Nakamura gave him a piercing look. “What’s the hardest lesson, James?” Morrison thought for a moment. “That you can’t buy relationships. Mega-Cola tried to purchase kombucha companies and force them into our industrial model. But the reason those companies succeeded was because they maintained living relationships—between bacteria, between brewers and their cultures, between producers and customers. We thought we could commodify those relationships. We were wrong.” Nakamura looked into the other man’s eyes. “Do you regret your career at Mega-Cola?” “Every day,” Morrison said. “But regret without action is just self-pity. I can’t undo the harm I caused. I can only try to spend whatever time I have left doing things differently.” The two men stood silent. “And now?” Nakamura eventually asked. “Now I’m learning that the same principle applies to everything. Healthy soil requires relationships between millions of organisms. Healthy communities require relationships between people. You can’t manufacture relationships. You can only cultivate them.” A former Mega-Cola executive, now managing the composting operation, approached. “James, the new batch is ready. Want to check it?” They walked to a massive composting area where industrial waste had been transformed into rich, dark soil. Morrison picked up a handful, letting it sift through his fingers. “Five years ago, I couldn’t have told you what healthy soil looked like. Now I can diagnose it by touch, smell, and sight. I know the difference between soil that’s alive and soil that’s dead. I wish I’d learned that forty years ago.” Business School Autopsies: Failed Integration Studies Mega-Cola’s failed acquisitions became business school case studies teaching a fundamental lesson about the new economy: you couldn’t buy biological relationships, only nurture them. Companies that thrived in the fermentation future were those that learned to think like ecosystems rather than machines, valuing symbiosis over extraction and cooperation over control. The old extraction-based capitalism of brands, advertisements, and artificial scarcity had dissolved in the acid of transparency. In its place rose a commerce of connection, a network of exchange based on trust, craft, and living value. No one “sold” kombucha anymore. They shared it—encoded with local identity, story, and microbial lineage. Each brew was a living signature, traceable back to the brewer’s SCOBY ancestry through transparent bio-ledgers—open microbial blockchains that recorded not profits, but relationships. Harvard Business School’s legendary case study “The Mega-Cola Kombucha Catastrophe” had become required reading for understanding how industrial thinking fails when confronting biological complexity. Professor George Santos—a reformed fraudster turned champion of ethical business studies at Harvard—projected key figures on his classroom screen summarizing the Mega-Cola meltdown: $48.7 billion spent on kombucha acquisitions and infrastructure Zero successful products launched 94% loss of beneficial bacteria in acquired brands Complete corporate collapse within 15 years Morrison sat in the audience, invited as a guest speaker. The students didn’t know he was there yet. Santos lectured: “Mega-Cola’s failure wasn’t about lack of resources or expertise. They had the best food scientists, unlimited capital, and a dominant market position. They failed because they tried to apply industrial logic to biological relationships. It’s a category error—treating living systems like machines.” A student raised her hand. “But couldn’t they have just left the kombucha companies independent? Kept them small-scale?” “Good question,” Santos responded. “But that would have defeated the purpose of the acquisition. Morrison wanted to leverage industrial efficiency to dominate the market. He couldn’t accept that efficiency itself was the problem.” “Sounds arrogant,” another student said. “It was,” Morrison spoke from the audience. “Unforgivably arrogant.” The room went silent as students realized who he was. Santos smiled. “Class, we have a special guest. Mr. Morrison has agreed to discuss his decisions and their consequences.” Morrison walked to the front slowly. At 72, he looked older than his years. “I’m here because Professor Santos asked me to help you understand how intelligent, well-intentioned people can make catastrophic mistakes,” Morrison began. “In 2035, I was confident, even cocky, firmly believing we could apply our industrial processes to kombucha. I have degrees from Wharton and McKinsey experience. I’d successfully optimized dozens of operations. I didn’t see kombucha as a challenge—I saw it as an opportunity.” “What changed?” a student asked. “Repeated failure,” Morrison said simply. “We acquired kombucha brands. We killed them by trying to scale them. We hired consultants. They told us what we were doing wrong. We didn’t listen. We tried to ferment cola using SCOBYs. We created undrinkable disasters. Eventually, even I couldn’t ignore reality: you can’t industrialize living relationships.” “Why not?” another student challenged. “We industrialize lots of biological processes. Agriculture, pharmaceuticals—” “Different scale, different complexity,” Morrison explained. “Kombucha requires dozens of organisms in complex relationships. You can’t standardize that without destroying what makes it work. And more fundamentally, I didn’t respect what I was trying to control. I saw bacteria as inputs to be optimized, not as living partners to be cultivated. That disrespect guaranteed failure.” Samantha Chen, sitting in the back, spoke up. “I was Mega-Cola’s CFO. I warned James from the beginning that we were trying to commodify relationships. He didn’t listen until we’d burned through billions and destroyed the brands we’d acquired. The lesson isn’t just about fermentation—it’s about recognizing when your core competencies are incompatible with what you’re attempting.” A student asked the obvious question: “Mr. Morrison, you lost billions of dollars and collapsed a century-old company. Why should we listen to you?” Morrison smiled sadly. “Because I failed spectacularly at something many of you will attempt: forcing biological systems into industrial models. Climate change, environmental restoration, and sustainable agriculture—you’ll all face situations where industrial thinking fails. If hearing about my failures helps even one of you recognize that trap earlier, then bankrupting Mega-Cola will have served some purpose.” Cola Coda The demise of Mega-Cola and Morrison's redemption was celebrated in song by a young group of Baltimore kombucha brewers whose anthem ‘It's an Unreal Thing' was played on college radio stations by retro-70's leather-jacketed DJ's with pierced ears. Here’s Hexotronix: Go now, take what you think will lastBut whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fastAll your failed investments, they’re all going homeYour fermentation formula had the wrong biomeYour scientists who just walked out the doorHave taken all their SCOBYs from the brewery floorThe towers too have failed to come throughAnd now it's time to go find something new. [Chorus]You sold your soda to a worldThat you thought you'd taught to singIn perfect harmonyBut it's an unreal thing, an unreal thing. You bought up all our breweries, didn't you?Your fake fermented drinks just didn't come through .You killed what made kombucha realSo how does it feelTo be completely unreal?How does it feelTo be a joker?How does it feelTo be a bankrupt, down at heel?With the whole world laughingAt your soda? [Chorus] Your beverage was a bustYour dreams all turned to dustThe missing partWas our SCOBY heartRight there at the startBut you didn't seeWhat we sawDidn't feelWhat we feltDidn't knowWhat we knewDidn't loveWhat we loved. [Chorus] Leave your corporate life behind, something calls for youThe dream that you once had is clearly through.Forget the drinks you've served, they will not follow youGo tell another story start anewThe compost and mushrooms, they now call to you. [Chorus] Epilogue: The Next Discovery Morrison’s transformation from CEO to mushroom farmer illustrates that recognizing failure honestly opens paths to genuine learning. His redemption isn’t about success—it’s about accepting that some approaches are fundamentally wrong and committing to something different. However, one man’s transformation was only the beginning. While corporate executives struggled to understand living systems, a brilliant citizen scientist was making discoveries that would prove the human brain itself required biological partnerships to reach its full potential. Check back next Friday as the gripping tale of ‘Our Fermented Future’ continues. Disclaimer This is a work of speculative fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, assisted by generative A.I. References to real brands and organizations are used in a wholly imaginative context and are not intended to reflect any actual facts or opinions related to them. No assertions or statements in this post should be interpreted as true or factual. Audio Listen to an audio version of this Episode and all future ones via the Booch News channel on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. If you just want to listen to the music (classic 80’s punk!) tune in as follows: Hexotronix, It’s an Unreal Thing, 36:17 Lyrics ©2025 Booch News, music generated with the assistance of Suno. The post Our Fermented Future, Episode 7: Corporate Death Spiral—How Cola Became Compost appeared first on 'Booch News.
Sarah and Carrie are joined by director Jake Myers to talk (spoiler free!) about the new 2025 film, Kombucha! Lots of kombucha talk of course, fermentation culture meets toxic office culture, SCOBYs on film, Midwest pork tenderloin sandwiches, business bitches, home remedies, garlic enthusiasm, and more!
Hannah Ruhamah Crum is the Founder of Kombucha Kamp, the leading education platform and Ecommerce brand for homebrewed kombucha. She's also the co-author of The Big Book of Kombucha and the cofounder and former president of Kombucha Brewers International, where she's helped shape industry standards for fermentation and transparency.Before launching Kombucha Kamp, Hannah was a language teacher and aspiring actress who stumbled into kombucha at a raw food restaurant in San Francisco. A single sip turned into a full-blown obsession, leading her to teach local brewing classes out of her apartment, blog about the gut microbiome, and ship SCOBYs from her kitchen table before launching a full Ecommerce operation.Hannah shares how she followed inbound demand signals to grow from DIY educator to industry leader, why homemade kombucha is different from store-bought, and how she scaled without outside capital. She also unpacks how COVID reshaped her business overnight, why she walked away from a quarter-million-dollar facility, and what she's learned about managing people without formal training.Whether she's explaining what it means to be a “bacteria farmer” or how her belief in gut health intersects with spiritual wellness, Hannah offers a candid look at what it takes to build a mission-driven CPG brand from scratch.In This Conversation We Discuss:[00:40] Intro[01:15] Selling starter kits not just products[02:34] Discovering a product by total accident[04:56] Blogging to fix misinformation online[06:16] Podcasting early to build brand authority[09:05] Reclaiming gut health through real food[10:44] Episode Sponsors: Electric Eye, Heatmap, Zamp[14:42] Protecting tradition through policy advocacy[18:51] Rebuilding ops with a lighter footprint[21:30] Outsourcing production for better margins[23:02] Building loyalty with rewards that convertResources:Subscribe to Honest Ecommerce on YoutubeProviding free information and education about Kombucha kombuchakamp.comFollow Hannah Ruhamah Crum linkedin.com/in/hannahcrumlaSchedule an intro call with one of our experts electriceye.io/connectClear, real-time data built for ecommerce optimization heatmap.com/honestFully managed sales tax solution for Ecommerce brands zamp.com/honestIf you're enjoying the show, we'd love it if you left Honest Ecommerce a review on Apple Podcasts. It makes a huge impact on the success of the podcast, and we love reading every one of your reviews!
Sign up to our newsletter here. Join our facebook group here or join our Discord here.You can physically send us stuff to PO BOX 7127, Reservoir East, Victoria, 3073.Want to help support the show?Sanspants+ | Shop | TeesWant to get in contact with us?Email | Twitter | Website | Facebook | RedditOr individually at;Hayden | CassRecorded and produced on Wurundjeri land, we respectfully acknowledge the Wurundjeri People of the Kulin Nation, pay our respect to their Elders past and present, and recognise that sovereignty was never ceded. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
In the Fall 2021 edition of SYMBIOSIS Magazine, we profiled Sacha Laurin's award-winning designs fashioned from SCOBY fabrics. She had taken early experiments in fabrics based on SCOBY (pellicle) processing to an international audience when, in 2015, she premiered her... The post Vegan Leather from Kombucha SCOBYs appeared first on 'Booch News.
A study found that filtration membranes formed from SCOBYs are more effective at preventing bacterial growth than commercial equivalents.
A study found that filtration membranes formed from SCOBYs are more effective at preventing bacterial growth than commercial equivalents.
In today's episode Cara welcomes a friend from Durham, NC. Grant runs his very own traditionally fermented kombucha shop called Homebucha. Homebucha has been killing it in the kombucha scene for 7 years and we get to hear all about its origin story. Want to make your own kombucha at home? It's seriously way easier than you think. Cultures For Health offers DIY kits and live SCOBYS to make at-home brewing super simple. Best of all, we are offering 25% off when you use the code CFHPODCAST.
In today's episode, Wendy is going to share with you how to maintain your kombucha SCOBY forever. She'll share how to take care of your SCOBYs and how to create a home or a “hotel” for your SCOBYs where they can live. Ready to begin your fermentation journey? Visit Cultures For Health to get started!
You all keep asking . . . What do I do with all these SCOBYs?! If you are anything like me, you have a pile of SCOBYs in a massive SCOBY hotel just waiting. It feels somehow wrong to throw them away when you have taken care of them and watched them grow! Did you know you can eat your SCOBYs and that they're actually good for you and have health benefits? Check out all my recipes and ideas on what to do with all your scobys. Episode link: https://www.culturedfoodlife.com/podcast/episode-161-20-smart-ways-to-use-your-kombucha-scobys/ Check out this link: https://www.culturedfoodlife.com/20-smart-ways-to-use-your-kombucha-scobys/
Nice to have you back, homebrewer! Welcome to our Homebrew Happy Hour podcast… the podcast where we answer all of your home brewing questions and discuss anything related to craft beer! A SUBTLE REMINDER: If you appreciate the things we do here at Homebrew Happy Hour, consider joining our Patreon community! Not only will you be […]
Sisters Tara Sasiadek and Anna Bystran explain the health benefits of Kombucha. Kombucha is tasty and versatile. It's a great way to stay hydrated and replace soda. You are much more likely to break a bad habit if you consciously replace it with a better one, so sub in Kombucha for your sugary pop, processed juice, or calorie boosted frappucino. Nourish yourself with the many benefits of tea, including the energy- and metabolism-boosting powers of caffeine, and the immune-boosting properties of antioxidants in our organic free-trade black tea base. "Our product line is made with Fairtrade, certified organic tea leaves, and is New York State manufactured sugar to feed our organic SCOBYs, A focus on organic local produce whenever available...Resulting in tangy effervescent iced tea for your use, full of antioxidants and probiotic goodness. What is Snowy Owl Kombucha all about? Sparkling, probiotic tea to nourish the body and delight the senses. Brewed with organic fair-trade tea & love by two sisters in Buffalo, NY, and infused with delicious fruit, herbs, and flowers to maximize your health. Brought to you with our dedication to keeping things small & sustainable, compassionate & curious. SCOBYs are just so cool: a living organism that is both a community and an individual, the culture we use to make your kombucha has unique wisdom we love to learn from. It's an easy way to support your health journey. Our mission is to provide your adventurous life with a product you can trust to be delicious, responsibly made, and healthy for you and your family and friends. Website: Snowy Owl Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SnowyOwlKo/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/snowyowlko/ Side Note: Some people can be sensitive to yeast, fungus, and bacteria – even when they are the “good” kind. Drinking beverages with live and active cultures could increase your risk of infection if you are undergoing chemotherapy, radiation therapy, or surgery and your white blood cell counts are low. Please check with your Doctor.
In our second episode of season 3 Marika Moskalyk discusses how encouragement, exploration, and everyday learning led her to her path of becoming a doctor through the Queen’s Accelerated Route to Medical School program
LD & Joel explore the "sober curiosity" movement via shrub shots, then get schooled on the mothers & daughters of SCOBYS. (Also, give Joel a hug next time you see him.)
Seven years ago, Daina Trout, her husband, and her best friend launched Health-Ade with $600 in their pocket. Today, more than 120,000 bottles of the brand’s 14 flavors (with five more to launch this year) are brewed every single day and shipped to 20,000+ stores around the country. In episode 49, Trout tells me about the difficulties they experienced building the business from the ground up and the 2014 #hurdlemoment where she nearly died in a refrigerated truck accident—an experience that taught her the true value of self love and compassion. She also educates me on SCOBYs, gives me the lowdown on her “bucket theory,” and explains how teaming up with a personal trainer forever changed her life for the better. SOCIAL @dainatrout @healthade @hurdlepodcast @emilyabbate OFFERS Athletic Greens | Head to athleticgreens.com/hurdle to get 20 free travel packs ($79 value) with your first purchase, no code necessary. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/hurdle/message
On this episode of The Lifelong Learning Podcast, I share some of my latest fears doing the show and all about fermenting various types of yeast. Whether you're looking to make a fresh homemade pizza, a loaf of bread, or working with SCOBYs like Kombucha and Kefir you'll want to hear some of the great tips for keeping the yeast happy on this episode! In addition, I share my experiences getting into fermentation with champagne yeast when making hard ciders. If you have experience with different types of yeast, I'd love to hear your thoughts or what you've experienced. Please leave a comment on the show notes page or send me an email at kate @ katenesi.com Links from the episode: Seed Mat Warmers Gallon Jugs Airlocks Kefir Grains Champagne Yeast Active Dry Yeast
I've been working on new Kombucha recipes and growing new SCOBYs. Hear all about it here! --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/baron-gordon/support
Let's talk a little bit about SCOBYs and the possibility of making Super SCOBY? --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/baron-gordon/support
The Fat-Burning Man Show by Abel James: The Future of Health & Performance
Did you know that 9 out of 10 cells in your body are not technically human, but bacteria? If you're overweight, fatigued, or sick, it's time to take a look at your microbiome. On this week's show, you'll learn how to upgrade your gut health with living foods. Hannah Crum, the Kombucha Momma, is on a mission to "change the world one gut at a time."
Fat-Burning Man by Abel James (Video Podcast): The Future of Health & Performance
Did you know that 9 out of 10 cells in your body are not technically human, but bacteria? If you're overweight, fatigued, or sick, it's time to take a look at your microbiome. On this week's show, you'll learn how to upgrade your gut health with living foods. Hannah Crum, the Kombucha Momma, is on a mission to "change the world one gut at a time."
The Fat-Burning Man Show by Abel James: The Future of Health & Performance
If you’re overweight, fatigued, or sick, it’s time to take a look at your microbiome. On this week’s show, you’ll learn how to upgrade your gut health with living foods.
Fat-Burning Man by Abel James (Video Podcast): The Future of Health & Performance
If you’re overweight, fatigued, or sick, it’s time to take a look at your microbiome. On this week’s show, you’ll learn how to upgrade your gut health with living foods.
I really enjoyed this podcast episode because I got to chat with one of my dear friends, Hannah Crum. Even though I’ve been making Kombucha and Kefir for years, I learned some new tips and tricks for better brewing (and some really cool ideas of ways to use Kombucha!) Why Homemade Kombucha? Hannah runs Kombucha Kamp, where she provides information, tutorials and kombucha-brewing equipment. Known as the “Kombucha Mama,” Hannah is largely considered one of the country’s foremost experts in kombucha brewing and fermentation. If you are already a ‘bucha fan like I am, check out this episode for some new ideas. If you are just starting out with Kombucha, this interview will be a great starting point. In this Episode, we Talk About Why Kombucha is so beneficial The difference between it and Kefir or Kvass How to brew it The difference between batch brewing and continous brewing The benefits of homemade kombucha vs. purchasing store bough If you really have to use black tea and white sugar If Kombucha is safe during pregnancy or not (the answer may surprise you) If there is a concern about the fluoride content in Kombucha Is it safe to drink or does it harm your enamel Unusual uses for Kombucha Hannah’s best tips for getting started brewing Resources We Mention Kombucha Kamp (great place to buy SCOBYs and brewing supplies and a great blog) Tutorial: How to Brew Homemade Kombucha Tutorial: Continous Brew Homemade Kombucha Tutorial: How to Brew Water Kefir Tutorial: Homemade Kombucha Chia Energy Drink Hannah’s Guest Posts: Coconut Milk Kefir and Coconut Water Kefir KombuchaKamp.com Educational Series on Kombucha KombuchaKamp Hair Tonic recipe Are you a ‘bucha drinker? What is your favorite flavor? Thanks for Listening! Thank you so much for joining me this week. Please leave any comments or feedback in the comments section below. Read TranscriptKatie: Hi, and welcome to the Wellness Mama Podcast. I’m Katie from wellnessmama.com. Today, I actually have several interesting facts of the day for you because I couldn’t choose just one. They’re all about bacteria and its unusual role in our lives. Human breast milk contains sugars that are actually intended to feed
This week on Fuhmentaboudit!, Mary Izett and Chris Cuzme are revisiting yeast and beer with SouthYeast Labs. David Thornton and Even Skjervold are interested in showing the terroir of yeast with their isolated yeast strains! Tune into this episode to hear how yeasts from different regions can affect the taste of a brew, cheese, and beyond! How do bee populations change the character of various yeasts? Hear about David and Even’s brew science education, and how their research has made them better brewers! Find out how David and Even feel about discovering SCOBYs in the field! This program has been brought to you by Route 11 Potato Chips. “Beer is the gateway. Brewing strains are used for cheeses and bread… All of these ferments depend on organisms, and there are different organisms in different regions, and they very from season-to-season.” [12:10] — David Thornton on Fuhmentaboudit!
With less than 4 weeks to go until the Weston A. Price Foundation's Wise Traditions Conference in Atlanta, Aaron Zober interviews another speaker. Hannah Crum of Kombucha Kamp is able to take a break from her busy schedule, speaking at various conferences, festivals, and fairs, to make a return visit to the program and give a little preview of her presentation in Atlanta. Hannah will be part of the track on curing cancer with holistic methods as she talks about how kombucha is beneficial in keeping your gut healthy to avoid developing cancer and other chronic illnesses. Hannah discusses how the cultures that live the longest consumer lots of fermented foods, including kombucha. Hannah talks about other great probiotic drinks and other uses for kombucha and SCOBYs. Hannah also gets into the upcoming book she's writing on kombucha and the Kombucha Brewers Association that she's starting up.
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