Beetroot Kanji Recipe: My Lazy-Girl Fermented Probiotic Obsession#

So, um, confession time: I did not grow up loving beetroot. At all. Me and my brother used to call it "red mud" and push it to the side of the plate. My mom would get so annoyed because, you know, beetroot is "good for blood" — every Indian mom says this on loop. Fast forward to 2026 and I’m over here basically brewing beetroot in a jar on my windowsill like some friendly neighbourhood mad scientist. All in the name of gut health and taste, obviously.

We’re talking about beetroot kanji – this tangy, salty, slightly spicy fermented drink that your nani probably made in huge barni jars before fermentation became some fancy buzzword on Instagram. Now it’s like… in every health reel, every gut cleanse challenge, every #probioticgirlies post. But kanji is OG. Our desi version of kombucha, honestly, and way easier.

Why Everyone’s Suddenly Obsessed With Ferments Again (Including Me)#

So 2024-2026, the whole fermentation thing just exploded. If you look at food trend reports, like the ones from big platforms and even the 2025–2026 reports from Whole Foods and a bunch of Indian wellness startups, it’s all about gut health, functional drinks, and low-waste, homemade ferments. Kombucha is old news, water kefir is cute, but right now there’s a really big push to rediscover traditional regional drinks.

You’ve got:

  • South India going wild with homemade neer mor and fermented rice kanji again
  • Odisha/Bengal reviving pakhala bhat in fancy restaurants (yes, actually happening)
  • Delhi and Mumbai cafés doing house ferments – ginger bug sodas, nimbu probiotic shrbts, all that jazz

And tucked inside that whole wave is this quiet comeback of gajar–beetroot kanji. I saw it on a menu last year in Mumbai, at this new-age place in Bandra doing "heritage ferments" flights – there was kanji next to kombucha and Korean makgeolli. I literally laughed when I saw it because I was like, my dadi was doing this before it was cool, guys.

My First Beetroot Kanji Memory (And Why I Was Lowkey Traumatized)#

I remember the first time I tasted kanji as a kid in Delhi, like peak winter. My nani kept this huge ceramic barni near the sunniest corner of the terrace. It looked like a mysterious potion. Deep reddish-purple, with carrot batons floating in it like some weird vegetable aquarium. She poured me a glass, and I honestly thought it was Rooh Afza or something sweet.

The SHOCK when that salty-sour-funky hit my tongue. I legit gagged. I remember saying, "Nani, yeh kharab ho gaya hai!" (this has gone bad) and she just laughed and told me it’s supposed to taste like that. So yeah, my relationship with kanji started rough. But the smell of it, the way the sun warmed the jar, all the aunties talking about "accha bacteria" before probiotics were even a thing in ads… that stayed with me.

Cut to 2023 when I got obsessed with gut health after a truly chaotic year of takeout and new restaurant tastings. My digestion was like, no ma'am, we are done. So I slowly started making my own ferments – yogurt first, then quick pickled onions, then finally kanji. At first I followed gajar ka kanji recipes, but then I made a beet-only version and… wow. Just wow. That deep magenta colour, the earthiness, the way it feels cold and salty and alive. I was hooked.

Why Beetroot Kanji Is So Special (To Me Anyway)#

Beetroot kanji just hits different. It’s:

  • Sour and salty like a pickle, but drinkable
  • Naturally probiotic – all those lactic acid bacteria doing their thing
  • Gorgeous to look at – like this jewel-toned magenta only beets can do
  • Stupidly cheap to make, compared to the 350-500 rupees a bottle kombucha trend

And honestly, there’s this cozy nostalgia in it. It tastes like sun on winter afternoons, like school holidays, like steel tumblers on the terrace. At the same time, it feels extremely 2026, because now we have all this science-y language around it: fermentation, microbiome, prebiotic fibre, lactic acid bacteria. Same age-old drink, new vocabulary.

The 2026 Fermentation Vibe: Home Jars & Restaurant Kanji Shots#

If you’re in any Indian city right now, you’ll see this split. At home, people are quietly doing DIY ferments again. On Instagram you’ve got folks sharing their kanji jars next to their sourdough starters like proud parents. In restaurants though, kanji is slowly sneaking in as this quirky, artsy thing.

Some random recent stuff I’ve spotted:

  • In Delhi, a new modern-Indian place near Lodhi has started doing beetroot kanji shots as a palate cleanser between courses. They serve it in those tiny, frosty glasses with black salt on the rim – I rolled my eyes first but it tasted incredible.
  • Mumbai has this Bandra café (you know the type: plants everywhere, coworking vibes) offering a "probiotic drinks board" – ginger ale, kanji, and cashew-milk kefir. The kanji was light, slightly fizzy, almost like a salty kombucha. Overpriced, but cute.
  • Even in Bangalore’s newer microbreweries, I’ve heard of chefs experimenting with kanji-inspired sour beers. Not full-on authentic kanji, but using beetroot and black carrot infusions to get that tang and colour.

Point is, kanji is no longer just that thing your dadi made because, you know, “accha hota hai pet ke liye” (it’s good for the stomach). It’s suddenly on tasting menus, wellness blog posts, and even like, Ayurveda-based startup drinks. And honestly, I kind of love this glow-up.

Okay But How Do You Actually Make Beetroot Kanji (Without Messing It Up)?#

The funny thing is, kanji looks all mysterious, but it’s insanely simple. It’s basically: veggies + salt + ground mustard + water + sun + time. That’s it. No fancy starter, no SCOBY, nothing. If you can cut a beet, you can make this.

My Go-To Easy Beetroot Kanji Recipe (Small Batch, No Drama)#

This is the recipe I keep coming back to. It’s simple, small-batch, and perfect if you don’t have a big balcony or fancy jar setup. I’ve tweaked it based on my nani’s recipe plus a bit of recent fermentation science stuff people keep sharing in 2025–2026 gut-health guides.

For about 1 litre of beetroot kanji, you’ll need:

  • 2 medium beetroots (around 250–300 g total)
  • 1 small carrot (optional but it adds a nice flavour and crunch)
  • 1 litre filtered or boiled-cooled water (chlorine can mess with fermentation)
  • 2–2.5 tablespoons mustard powder (traditionally black mustard, coarsely ground)
  • 1.5–2 teaspoons regular salt or pink salt (non-iodized is better for ferments)
  • 1/2 teaspoon red chilli powder (or more if you like some kick)
  • Optional: tiny pinch of hing, a couple of black peppercorns, or a clove of garlic if you like experiments

Step-by-step (The Lazy But Safe Way)#

1. Prep the jar
Wash a 1.5 L glass jar really well. If you’re paranoid about weird bacteria (me), pour some boiling water in it, swirl, and let it cool and dry. No need to be super sterile like hospital-level, but clean is good.

2. Slice the beets and carrot
Peel the beetroots and carrot. Cut them into thick matchsticks or batons. Not super thin, because they’ll get too soft. Think French fry size-ish. I like slightly chunky pieces because I love munching them later as a pickle.

3. Mix the spices
In a bowl, mix mustard powder, salt, and red chilli powder. Some newer recipes suggest lightly toasting the mustard and then grinding for better flavour, but honestly I rarely bother unless I’m feeling extra.

4. Add everything to the jar
Add the beet and carrot pieces into the jar. Sprinkle in the spice mix. Pour the water in. Stir with a clean spoon until everything is well mixed. The water will start turning slightly pink already.

5. Cover and ferment
Cover the jar with a lid, but not super tight. Either:
- keep it slightly loose, or
- use a clean cloth or muslin with a rubber band.
Place the jar in a warm spot that gets indirect sunlight. In North Indian winters, people literally put it in full sun; in hot cities, I keep it on a bright counter away from direct blazing heat.

6. Stir daily and taste
Once or twice a day, open, stir with a clean spoon, and close again. This helps avoid weird mold forming at the top and evenly distributes the bacteria. Depending on your weather:

  • Cooler days (like Delhi winter): 4–5 days to ferment
  • Warmer cities / peak summer: sometimes 2–3 days is enough

You’ll notice tiny bubbles, a sharper smell, and a deeper sour taste as the days go by. Taste a spoon daily. Once it’s tangy and slightly fizzy and you actually like it, it’s done.

7. Store in the fridge
When the sourness is where you want it, tighten the lid and move the jar to the fridge. This slows fermentation down. The beetroot kanji will keep well for roughly a week or more, sometimes 10–12 days, though it’ll keep getting more intense with time.

How To Serve Beetroot Kanji (Other Than Just Chugging It)#

My fav ways to drink or use kanji lately:

  • Chilled, in a small glass before meals – like a salty aperitif that wakes up your appetite
  • Mixed half-and-half with plain soda, with a squeeze of lemon and black salt (this feels weirdly fancy but it slaps)
  • Use the fermented beet and carrot pieces in salads – they’re like instant pickled veggies
  • Tiny shot glass of kanji with a mezze-style desi snack board – chaat, aloo tikki, roasted chana, etc

I even tried freezing some in ice-cube trays and adding one cube to plain water – very subtle but kind of fun and very 2026 wellness-core energy.

But Is Beetroot Kanji Actually Healthy Or Just Another Trend?#

So yeah, everyone’s screaming about gut health these days – from doctors to random TikTok nutrition bros. As of 2025–2026, most nutrition research is pretty clear that fermented foods can support a healthy gut microbiome. Things like yogurt, kimchi, sauerkraut, and yes, traditional ferments like kanji can add beneficial bacteria (mostly lactic acid bacteria) to your diet.

Beetroot itself brings a lot to the table:

  • Rich in folate, manganese, potassium, and other minerals
  • High in nitrates, which some studies link to better blood flow and possibly improved exercise performance
  • Packed with pigments called betalains – those are antioxidants that give the beet its gorgeous colour

When you ferment it in water with mustard and salt, you’re basically doing a lacto-fermentation. The natural bacteria on the veggies (and in the environment) convert sugars into lactic acid, which preserves the drink and gives it that tang. Research from the past few years has been talking a lot about how including a variety of fermented foods can support a diverse gut microbiome.

Of course, it’s not like kanji is a magic potion that’ll fix everything. It’s salty, so if you’re on a strict low-salt diet, maybe go easy. Also if you’ve never had ferments, start small – like 1/4 cup a day – because your gut can be like, “what is all this new bacteria??” and respond with a bit of bloating at first.

Little Fermentation Safety Notes (From Someone Who Learned The Hard Way)#

I’m not trying to scare you, but also, my first jar of kanji I made in 2022 grew a full-on white fuzzy mold beard because I left it in blazing sun, didn’t stir, and also forgot about it for a week. Do not be me.

Just keep in mind:

  • If you see fuzzy mold (green, black, blue, thick and hairy), throw the whole thing out. Don’t try to scoop it off.
  • A thin white film (kahm yeast) that looks flat and not fuzzy is more common and usually harmless, but I still try to avoid it by stirring every day.
  • Use clean spoons and jars. You don’t need to be obsessive, but basic cleanliness goes a long way.

And no, you don’t need to buy fancy fermentation lids or airlocks or any of that stuff unless you’re fully going down the rabbit hole. A simple glass jar works perfectly.

Restaurant Kanji vs Home Kanji (Hot Take)#

I’ve tried kanji in a few restaurants now, especially with this whole 2025–2026 modern Indian food wave. I have Thoughts.

Some of them:

  • Fancy places often make it too mild. I get it, they don’t wanna scare diners, but kanji should have a proper tang and that earthy funk. Otherwise it just tastes like beet-flavoured salty water.
  • At one new restaurant, they strained it too aggressively and served it crystal clear, no mustard sediment. Pretty, yes. But the flavour was flat. I kinda missed those cloudy bits.
  • On the plus side, a Mumbai place I went to in early 2026 served beetroot kanji with a tiny beetroot galouti kebab on the side, and the pairing was unreal. Like, smoky, soft kebab + cold tangy kanji = chef’s kiss.

Home kanji just has more personality. It changes every batch – sometimes stronger, sometimes lighter, depending on the weather and how moody your beetroots are. Restaurant versions are cute but they don’t have that winter-afternoon-in-a-barni soul, you know?

Fun Twists I’ve Tried (Not All Were Good, lol)#

Because I can’t leave a good thing alone, I keep experimenting. Some hits, some misses:

  • Added a slice of raw turmeric – colour went more brownish, flavour was great though. Earthy and slightly medicinal in a good way.
  • Threw in a green chilli slit lengthwise – loved the extra heat. Very chakhna-friendly.
  • Used golden beets once – looked cute, pale orange, but honestly the magenta beets just feel more kanji-ish to me.
  • Tried a sweet-ish version with jaggery because I’d seen some 2025 reels doing it – didn’t love it. It started fermenting differently and got a bit odd. Would not reccomend if you’re just starting out.

If you’re new, just stick to the classic version for your first couple of tries. Once you’ve got the hang of how it should smell and taste, go wild.

How Beetroot Kanji Fits Into My Actual Everyday Food Life#

I’m not one of those people who drink celery juice at 6 am and post it with #riseandgrind, okay. My food life is messy and real. Some days I’m testing recipes and eating gorgeous home-cooked stuff. Other days I’m inhaling fries in the car outside a new burger place because I’m late for something.

Kanji has kind of become my little reset button. Not in a detox way (detox diets are, like, mostly nonsense), but in a "let’s give my gut something alive and wholesome" way. This is how I actually use it:

  • A small glass before my heaviest meal of the day – usually lunch. It honestly makes me feel less bloated afterwards.
  • If I know I’m going out for a big restaurant testing night – cocktails, dessert, the works – I’ll sip a bit of kanji earlier that day and again the next morning.
  • If I’m having a very basic khichdi or dal–chawal dinner, kanji on the side makes it feel more special. And the crunchy fermented beet pieces are like a ready-made achar.

Plus, it’s pretty. There’s something really satisfying about pouring that magenta drink into a glass and watching little bubbles cling to the sides. Very main-character energy for a Tuesday lunch.

Beetroot Kanji For People Who Say They "Hate Beetroot"#

Honestly, this drink is kind of a beetroot trap. People who say they hate beets often still enjoy kanji, because the fermentation changes the flavour. It’s less sweet-earthy and more tangy-savoury.

I’ve done this to a friend: didn’t tell her what it was, just served a tiny shot of cold kanji with some masala papad and roasted makhana. She assumed it was some kind of fancy savoury cocktail. When I told her it was beetroot, she just stared at the glass like it betrayed her.

So if you're beet-sceptical, just start with a small glass. Or mix it with soda or water so it’s diluted, and then slowly build your way up.

Troubleshooting Your Beetroot Kanji (Because Stuff Happens)#

If your first batch isn’t perfect, don’t panic. Fermentation is a little bit science and a little bit vibes. Some quick fixes based on the questions people keep DM-ing me and what I’ve messed up myself:

1. It’s not sour even after 4–5 days
- Check the temperature. If it’s cold, it will just take longer. Move it to a slightly warmer spot.
- Add 1–2 teaspoons of leftover whey (from dahi) or a spoonful of juice from any other ferment you have – this can jump-start it.
- Make sure you used enough mustard; it helps with fermentation and flavour.

2. It’s too sour, like yesterday it was fine and today it’s aggressive
- That happens in hot weather. Just add some more water to dilute and pop it in the fridge.
- Next time, start tasting earlier – by day 2 in summer, honestly.

3. It looks slimy or smells really off
- Trust your nose. Fermented sour and mustard-funky is normal; rotten or puke-smell is not.
- If it feels slimy when you pour it, something went wrong – just discard and try again with cleaner jars and fresh veggies.

4. There’s a white layer on top
- If it’s thin, flat, and not fuzzy, it’s probably just yeast. Skim it off, stir, and refrigerate once it tastes good.
- If it grows fuzzy or coloured, bin the whole thing.

Final Little Love Letter To Beetroot Kanji#

It’s honestly kind of wild to me that the same drink my nani quietly made on our terrace is now showing up in stylish restaurants, 2026 food trend lists, and wellness newsletters. Like, everyone’s talking about probiotics, microbiomes, fermented functional beverages… and our simple beetroot kanji just fits right in like, "hi, I’ve been here all along".

For me, beetroot kanji is this perfect mashup of everything I love about food:
- It’s rooted in memory and family and winter sun.
- It’s very much part of the new global fermentation wave.
- It’s practical, cheap, and honestly quite forgiving once you get the hang of it.
- And yeah, it’s ridiculously photogenic – that counts too.

If you’ve never tried making it, just start with a 1 litre batch. Worst case, you mess it up once and learn something. Best case, you’ve got a bottle of bright, tangy, probiotic magic waiting in your fridge that makes your everyday dal–chawal feel like a little restaurant moment.

I’m still experimenting, still comparing home-brewed kanji with whatever clever chefs are doing in the latest modern-Indian places, and still annoying my friends by forcing them to try "one sip, just one sip" every time they come over.

If you’re into these nerdy-but-homey food deep dives, I keep finding really fun inspo and random recipes on AllBlogs.in too – loads of other food-obsessed people sharing their experiments. Go fall down that rabbit hole after you set your first jar of beetroot kanji in the sun.