All posts tagged: kombucha

Fermentation Fever

What are all those scary things floating in the jars? SCOBYs. If you know me well, you know that I love fermented things. The funkier, the tangy-er, the better. What can I say? I’m weird like that. A few weeks ago, I had the chance to visit my parents, who have migrated West for the winter (smart, huh?), out in Hawaii. I don’t even remember how I ended up there, but I started following Kauai Juice Co. on Instagram a while ago, and was looking forward to having a taste of their concoctions at their retail shop in Kapa’a. Obviously Hawaii is quite blessed when it comes to its growing season, so they’ve got the best of the best in terms of fruits to pick from. There were all sorts of tonics and elixirs and immunity shots and smoothies, from green juice to mango to ginger (my favorite). Here I am picking up (a few days supply of) some turmeric ginger kombucha. Seems turmeric is the super trendy ingredient for all those New Year’s resolution detox type people. …

At “Home” Out West

Lookin’ good, ladies. As 2015 winds down and I’m trying to find my restorative niche (hint: mine potentially involves catching up on the breakfast issue of Lucky Peach and a warm cup of soup), I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to call a certain place “home.” Although I lived for almost 10 months in a cozy, little town in Northern Italy, it never really felt like “home.” My parents sold my childhood “home” while I was living there. And throughout my four-ish-month-long adventure in New York, I always felt somewhat adrift and frenzied. There were oodles of exciting endeavors and late afternoon/early evening weekend falafel runs to keep me going, for sure, but…something was just missing. So a few weeks ago, I packed up my overflowing suitcase that is now beginning to fray at the edges and headed to San Francisco, where I hoped I would feel a little less anxious and a little more grounded, despite never really having lived there before. If I could sum up 2015 for me in one word (well, that’s …

43 Hours in Healdsburg

My inaugural pilgrimage to the SHED was every bit as amazing as I anticipated. Don’t you love it when that happens? The NYT has their 36 Hours travel columns, there was that movie where James Franco cut his arm off after 127…but I am neither of those things so here I am to relay my quick trip up to H-burg (I’ve decided to call it that, just roll with it) with my mom for a few days before I pop back over the Atlantic to Italy. Note: this place is only one hour from San Francisco. On a road trip, obviously the job of the DJ/ navigation system manager stokes hunger, so I requested/demanded a stop at Farmstead Restaurant in St. Helena on the drive up. Last December, I took a “Full Circle Tour” with my parents of Long Meadow Ranch’s organic farm and vineyards before sitting down for a delicious lunch filled with persimmons and olive oil inside the tasting room, but this time I wanted to go peek into their restaurant. Sufficiently farm-chic decor, don’t you think? We …