Kombucha is another story.
I turned to my roommate who was sitting with her boyfriend at the kitchen table.
"Is this yours? What is this?"
"Yeah. Its kombucha. Wanna try it?"
"But what is it?"
"Its like a fermented tea drink. Taste it."
I hesitated. The idea of intentionally consuming something fermented didn't sound very good to me, but I tried to remain open minded. I grabbed the bottle and unscrewed the lid before sniffing it cautiously. I must have made a face because my roommate's boyfriend piped up, "It tastes better than it smells, I promise."
I took a swig and then grimaced. It was carbonated like a soda, but incredibly sour. I leaned over to the sink and quickly spit it out to the laughter of my friends.
In my junior year of college, I spent an entire academic quarter enrolled in an intense program all about fermented foods. In our food labs, we made sourdough bread and kimchi, cheese and ginger beer. Our lectures were filled with descriptions of coffee and tea production, PowerPoint slides on bacteria and yeasts, and so many taste tests. We even went on a class field trip to Theo, a Seattle based chocolate company.
In a very short period of time, I went from a germaphobic person completely grossed out by the idea of fermented foods to someone who is intentionally keeping (and feeding!) bacteria in their apartment. I have been sold on the gospel of fermented foods and my taste buds have been forever changed.