Amuse bouche... Scoby scene

‘How can you not know what a scoby is?” Claire said. “I don’t understand why I should,” Tim said.

“Were you not in lockdown like the rest of us?” Claire asked.

“It’s sort of rude to answer a question with a question,” said Tim. “I thought that was something we agreed in lockdown.”

“Fair enough,” said Claire, who had also agreed to work on conceding when she was wrong.

“Is it something to do with sourdough?” Tim asked.

He sounded less than thrilled by the possibility that the scoby, floating in its amber liquid, might have something to do with sourdough.

How far they had come, thought Claire. A matter of mere months earlier and Tim was the self-styled Sourdough Sorcerer, working on different starters, experimenting with various sugar/flour relationships, and even investing in equipment.

The banneton basket, which shaped the loaves so beautifully, would likely never see light of day again. It was already shoved to the back of the baking-tin cupboard, and might make its way to the school jumble sale at Christmas.

“You use a scoby to make kombucha,” said Claire. “It’s like the sourdough mother, it’s the lifeforce.”

“It’s a bit disgusting, isn’t it?” Tim said, peering into the jar. “A bit science-fiction horror film.”

“Well, that’s fermentation for you,” said Claire. “Sure aren’t you the expert?”

“Funny,” said Tim, who had done some really impressive work in recent months on his inability to laugh at himself.

“You make a big pot of tea and add the alien in the jar to it, then leave it for a week and then add nice flavours to it,” said Claire. “Apparently.”

“Where the hell did you get it?” Tim asked.

“From Sheila across the road,” said Claire. “She has a hot press full of it. She’s been doing it for years.”

“Oh right, not a lockdown fad like the rest of us?” Tim said, seeming to bristle.

“Well, she is very knowledgeable,” said Claire. “She probably could have helped during the initial sourdough experiments. Saved a few disasters.”

“Except we were locked down and couldn’t go over there,” said Tim, sharply. “Anyway, it wasn’t like I was in it for the long haul.

To be honest, at this point, I’m not sure I remember how to do it.”

“Weird,” said Claire.

“Are you going to make the kombucha?” asked Tim.

“Maybe,” said Claire. “When I have a minute again.”

“Yeah, these things need time,” said Tim, peering sadly at the scoby in its jar again.