My love affair with Kefir

Nine years ago I got off the plane in Moscow and was greeted by my boyfriend at the time with a bottle of probiotic goodness. It was Kefir, a drink discovered in the Caucasus mountains. It was sour and something about it was familiar to me.  A man that  looked like he had been beat up asked us for something. I handed over my passport. My ex boyfriend shook his head and I quickly put my passport away. We got on the train lined with old soviet rugs.  The man with the bruises on his face knocked on our door and brought us chai, dark warm liquid with a slice of lemon.

Years later I  began to make my own Kefir. My friend "Puza" who I rocked climbed with in Bosnia Herzegovina would give me the grains in exchange for yoga lessons. These "grains" are the bacteria that is used to make Kefir. They are fickle and my Kefir never tasted as good as the one in Russia or Puza's but I was determined. I got raw milk that was brought from the mountains by a security guard at the local mall and left for me on the side of my house in the bushes. 

In this photo I am drinking Kefir during the worst fires that  Moscow had ever experienced. Other people were wearing masks to protect their lungs. Mine were immune from growing up in the polluted city of Los Angeles. My Kefir to protect me. To learn more about Kefir a website recommended to me by Puza: http://users.sa.chariot.net.au/~dna/kefirpage.html