I am a big gas bag. I know, tell you something you don’t already know, but I am both figuratively and literally a gas bag. I am fascinated by the microflora that make up the world. These microbes reproduce exponentially and produce ethanol, some type of acid (lactic or acetic acid) and some type of gas, like methane or carbon dioxide. These microbes occur naturally in every ecological system … including us.

Did you know the human body is composed of 30 trillion human cells, all of which contain your DNA? What you may not know is: Your body also contains 39 trillion single-celled organisms that are not human at all. This means your body is more “not you” than “you.”

My first interest in fermentation was in college. My primary experience with fermentation was an extensive investigation of ethanol produced from brewers’ yeast. Bottle after bottle, I explored the nuances of this product of fermentation. My secondary experience was actually in a classroom and was an introduction to ruminant nutrition. I marvel at the rumen in which microbes symbiotically break down and synthesize forages into volatile fatty acids, amino acids and cow farts.

My hands-on adventure in fermentation began more recently. In the pages of Ag Proud – Idaho was an article about corn that is fermented into ethanol creating a byproduct of distillers grain. The 50 to 70 hours that the distillers corn spends in the fermentation vat is 50 to 70 hours less that it spends in the rumen. Because of this pre-digestion, a steer can gain up to 5 pounds per day. This 5 pounds per day interested me as a parent of kids who have market beef projects at the fair.

Two years ago, my frustrated son sarcastically asked me, “Dad, could you make our steer feeding program any more complicated?”

“I accept your challenge,” is the reply that every parent should respond to a sarcastic child.

And we proceeded to ferment corn for show steers. The process is basic. We fill a 5-gallon bucket about two-thirds with water, add 20 pounds of flaked corn, add a little bit of probiotic and put it in a warm place for five days. Upon completion, we have a tasty, bubbly feed product for our steers. Does it work? They eat it vigorously, but we haven’t seen the 8 to 10 pounds of gain per day we were hoping for. I’m certain we will get show steers figured out … the year after my youngest daughter graduates.

But it did spur my interest in fermented foods. I originally dabbled in bread. I acquired a sourdough starter and now make bread, pizza dough and biscuits. I then moved on to beer. I tried it from scratch and found the process unwieldy. Even most home brewers will use a brewer’s kit containing all of the ingredients to mix together. Even that process is daunting, but it seemed too much like paint-by-numbers for my nouveau sensibility.

On an interesting sidenote, anthropologists originally thought bread was the first fermentation product and beer resulted from rising bread getting rained on and then drank. It turns out, our Neanderthal forefathers were really into beer. One day, the distillers grains were left too close to the fire and voila, bread was conceived.

Next, I started fermenting vegetables. Sauerkraut and kimchi were my first, followed by cauliflower, broccoli and pickles. The process is simply 2% salt, a little water and eliminate oxygen. It sits on the counter for five days and the microbes do the rest.

Fermented salsa is amazing, pickle relish is divine, and the pesto is indescribable. I fermented spinach – and suddenly Popeye makes sense.

I next fermented dairy – yogurt, sour cream and butter. I couldn’t stop. I tried ice cream and my son called for an intervention … as he wiped the chocolate ice cream off his chin. Chocolate is fermented, too. My mother was unsurprised by my new passion. She remembered the foods and drinks I left around the house growing up. They always fermented. I assured my mother that instead of growing botulism, I was creating good microbes that make lactic acid. I’ve learned a trick or two.

My final foray into fermentation was a whole array of non-alcoholic fermented drinks, kombucha for instance. My family insists that kombucha is hippy juice. Kombucha is simply fermented sweet tea … sounds pretty hillbilly to me.

I never could convince my kids that old-fashioned, fermented root beer was worth their time. Like most fermented beverages, the taste is amazing, but it comes with an aftertaste. Now, most adults have come to accept and even embrace an aftertaste with their favorite beverage, but most kids can’t handle it. In my opinion, the ability to cope with a bad aftertaste is the final step into adulthood. If you have a young adult failing to launch, you might switch their favorite caramel macchiato with a strong black coffee. See if that does the trick.

Fermentation, in my mind, is the perfect analogy for the trials of life. Fermentations, like trials, are going to happen, no matter what you do. Create the conditions to grow the good stuff instead of growing the bad stuff. And embrace the gas. Both literal and figurative, you will always have the gas bags.