A Question No More


Until a short time ago the question was, “Will it snow this winter?” That question is now answered. It snowed this winter, a soft, gentle, beautiful snow. I can go ponder other things.


Many of the better things in life are the unplanned things that come along and keep us company, a stray cat, a sad dog that tells us we are its owner. In all the decades I’ve lived, I never once thought of wanting to make kefir. It’s a nearly daily ritual now. Such a simple ritual, just a few minutes of my time in the morning, and yet it’s so satisfying.


Kefir is a food that makes itself. The only thing I need to do is run it through a sieve until a tablespoon of the kefir grains are left.


I pour the strained kefir into little cups for breakfast.


The kefir grains I stir into a glass of milk and set the glass on the counter next to the happy porcelain cat, where it sits until tomorrow morning. All day and through the night, the kefir grains transform the milk into more kefir without me needing to do a thing. As I said, it makes itself.


Making kefir is so simple, when I see it for sale in the store, I think, There’s a con. Why would anyone buy something that makes itself?

SCOBY-Do


Here’s the latest child to take up residence here, or should I call it another indoor garden? About three weeks ago I ordered some kefir grains and started culturing a glass of kefir in the kitchen window. The grains are a SCOBY, a symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast. They look like rice grains in a porridge.


Every twelve hours or I strain the kefir, running it through a sieve, and collecting the kefir in a bowl. I use a spoon to mash the kefir grains against the sieve until I’ve reduced the grains inside the sieve to about a quarter cup, and have a thick, creamy bowl of kefir below.




The creamy kefir is ready to drink, and I stir the remaining kefir grains into a glass of lukewarm milk to grow and do their thing again.