Fermented Mocktail Recipes with Kombucha, Kanji & Shrubs – My Tiny Fizzy Obsession#
So, um, apparently we’re in the era of “fancy sober drinks” now. If you’d told 2016 me that by 2026 we’d have zero-proof tasting menus, non‑alcoholic pairings, and entire bars built around fermented mocktails, I’d have laughed and gone back to my cheap wine. But here we are. And honestly… I’m kinda thrilled about it.¶
The big thing that’s changed just in the last year or two is how seriously restaurants are treating non‑alcoholic drinks. In 2026 you’ve got places in New York and London doing full 8‑course tasting menus with alcohol‑free pairings, all with house‑fermented kombuchas, fruit shrubs, lacto‑fermented sodas – the whole nerdy science project. Even some of the buzzy new openings in 2025–2026 have dedicated “fermentation labs” tucked behind the bar. It’s wild.¶
And in the middle of all that, I’ve basically fallen in love with three things: kombucha, kanji, and shrubs. Three completely different traditions – East Asia, North India, and old‑school European/American pantry stuff – but they all end up in my glass, all fizzy and tart and weird and wonderful.¶
The Moment It Clicked (aka My ‘Ohhhh This Is Not Just Health Juice’ Moment)#
I used to think kombucha was just that slightly suspicious drink in yoga studios that tastes like vinegar and regret. Then, last summer, I went to this tiny zero‑proof bar that had just opened – you know the type, 20 seats, plants everywhere, bartender in a linen apron, the whole Scandinavian‑meets‑Brooklyn thing.¶
They had a seasonal menu and one drink just said: “Charred pineapple kombucha highball – house SCOBY, smoked salt, jaggery, green chilli.” I was like… OK, that sounds illegal but sure, let’s go. First sip, and my brain kinda short‑circuited. You know when a drink hits sweet and sour and spicy and fizzy all at once? It was like a tiki drink and a margarita and a spicy lemonade had a very well‑behaved non‑alcoholic baby.¶
That was the moment I went: oh, fermented mocktails aren’t just a consolation prize for people who don’t drink. They’re a whole mood on their own.¶
Why Fermented Mocktails Are Everywhere in 2026 (and Not Just on Wellness Instagrams)#
So, quick mini‑rant. A lot of people still think kombucha and kanji and shrubs are only for people who are into “gut health” and drink celery juice for fun. And yeah, there is a gut health boom happening right now – 2026 trend reports are obsessed with fermented everything, from kimchi to kefir ice cream. But the reason these drinks are popping up on actual restaurant menus is much more simple:¶
- They have flavour. Like, serious, layered, grown‑up flavour.
- They’re interesting enough to stand next to wine or cocktails on a pairing menu.
- Bars want to offer proper options for people who are sober or just “sober‑curious” some days.
- Fermentation is kind of the chef toy of the moment – everyone has a SCOBY hotel now.
Newer restaurants that opened in late 2025 and early 2026 almost always have at least one house‑fermented drink on the menu now. I was in a new spot recently where their signature mocktail was literally a black carrot kanji spritz with smoked black salt on the rim. Two years ago, nobody outside North Indian homes talked about kanji, and now it’s basically the new negroni in some circles. It’s crazy in a good way.¶
Kombucha Mocktail: My Spiced Pineapple Ginger Fizz#
Alright, let’s get into the good stuff. This is the kombucha mocktail I keep making on repeat. It’s like a little tropical vacation with a slight gut‑health flex. No one has to know you brewed it in a jar that used to hold pickles.¶
I’m not gonna deep‑dive into how to brew kombucha from scratch because honestly, there’s a whole science there and also, I’ve defintely killed a SCOBY or three. Use a decent store‑bought one if you’re just starting – unsweetened or lightly sweetened, nothing with fake sugar. The fun is what you do with it.¶
Here’s how I make my current favorite, the Spiced Pineapple Ginger Fizz (yeah the name’s long, I know):¶
- In a shaker or big jar, muddle: a few chunks of really ripe pineapple + a 2–3 cm piece of fresh ginger (sliced) + a tiny pinch of sea salt.
- Add the juice of 1 lime and a little squeeze of honey or jaggery syrup if your kombucha is very tart.
- Throw in 2–3 ice cubes and shake it like you’re mad at something.
- Strain into a tall glass filled with ice, then top with cold ginger or plain kombucha.
- Garnish with a charred pineapple wedge and a slice of green chilli if you’re feeling brave.
It’s sweet, it’s tart, the ginger hits your throat in that warm fuzzy way, and the kombucha bubbles make it feel like a “real” cocktail. I’ve served this to people who normally only drink gin & tonics, and they literally forgot there was no alcohol. Granted, we were also eating a stupid amount of chips and guac, but still.¶
Kanji: The Under‑Rated North Indian OG of Funky Drinks#
If kombucha is the cool global wellness kid, kanji is the slightly chaotic desi cousin who’s been doing the fermented thing for generations and never got enough credit.¶
I grew up seeing large glass jars of this in people’s balconies around Holi – black carrots or purple carrots floating in this intense magenta brine, with mustard seeds, chilli, and salt doing their slow magic. I honestly didn’t appreciate it as a kid. I thought it smelled weird. Actually, it does smell weird, but like in a good sour pickly way.¶
Fast‑forward to now, and kanji is having a mini moment. A bunch of newer Indian restaurants and pop‑ups (especially the younger chefs, the ones into regional revival and fermentation labs) are putting kanji on their drinks menus – sometimes just straight up in cute little ceramic cups, sometimes as a spritz with tonic or soda, sometimes in a fancy coupe glass with edible flowers because 2026.¶
My Simple Black Carrot Kanji Spritz#
I’m not pretending this is a “traditional” recipe, okay, any auntie reading this please look away, but it works and it tastes amazing.¶
To make the kanji base, I do this:¶
- Cut black or purple carrots (or regular carrots + a bit of beetroot if you can’t find the fancy ones) into thick batons.
- Dump them in a clean glass jar with: 1–1.5 litres of filtered water, 1–2 tablespoons ground mustard seeds, 1 tsp red chilli powder, 1–1.5 tsp salt.
- Stir, cover the jar with a cloth, and leave it in a warm sunny spot for 3–5 days, tasting daily. When it’s tangy and slightly fizzy and smells a bit punchy, it’s done. Chill it in the fridge.
For the spritz, I basically treat it like an amaro or vermouth:¶
- Fill a wine glass with ice.
- Add 1/2 glass chilled kanji (avoid the carrot pieces for this).
- Top with cold soda or sparkling water.
- Garnish with a carrot baton from the jar and a thin slice of lime.
The flavour is wild – savoury, sour, slightly spicy, and very grown‑up. It scratches the same itch as a negroni or Aperol spritz but without, you know, getting tipsy and ordering a 4th dessert, not that I’ve ever done that…¶
Shrubs: Old‑School Vinegar Syrups Turned Trendy (Again)#
Shrubs are basically proof that nothing in food really dies, it just gets rebranded. These are those old‑fashioned “drinking vinegars” – fruit, sugar, and vinegar left to hang out until everything’s syrupy and intense. People were making them waaay before 2026; we just now decided they’re cool again, especially with all the zero‑proof stuff happening.¶
The nice thing about shrubs is that they’re almost too easy. No SCOBY, no stressing about wild fermentation. The vinegar does the work and keeps things safe. Also, 2026 bartenders are using all sorts of weird vinegars – coconut vinegar, rice vinegar, even kombucha vinegar leftovers – to get really layered flavours.¶
I make a basic strawberry‑balsamic shrub every spring (well, “spring”, climate change is doing it’s thing so strawberries show up whenever they feel like it now). Here’s roughly how I do it:¶
- Slice about 2 cups of strawberries, toss with 1 cup sugar in a bowl, and let them sit in the fridge overnight. They’ll weep out juices and get all syrupy.
- Next day, strain the syrup (press gently on the fruit) and stir in 1 cup good quality apple cider vinegar + a tablespoon or two of balsamic vinegar.
- Bottle it, keep in the fridge, and let it sit at least 2–3 days before you really judge it. The flavours calm down and marry.
To drink it, you just do 1 part shrub to 4–5 parts sparkling water over ice. Or mix with kombucha. Or add a tiny splash to your kanji spritz. There’s no rules honestly, just don’t drink the shrub straight – I mean, you can, but your esophagus might file a complaint.¶
A Little Mocktail Trio: Kombucha, Kanji & Shrub in One Night#
One of my favourite evenings last month was when me and him (yes grammar police, I know) decided to do a mini “tasting” at home. No alcohol, just three fermented mocktails in a row with random snacks. It felt like our own tiny restaurant, minus the fancy lighting and the bill.¶
We did:¶
- A lime‑ginger kombucha highball with salted roasted peanuts to start
- Black carrot kanji spritz with masala potato wedges and green chutney
- Strawberry shrub spritz with some store‑bought vanilla ice cream (don’t judge, it slapped)
The funny thing is: by the end of the night we both felt that soft happy “I’ve had a good time” feeling without the fuzzy brain that usually follows 3 cocktails. And we slept like actual babies. Honestly, fermented mocktails might be the secret grown‑up flex of 2026 – you still get the ritual of making a drink, the clink of ice, the pretty glasses, but zero hangover and your gut bugs are apparently throwing a party.¶
Little Tips I’ve Learned (Mostly By Messing Things Up)#
I’m not a pro bartender or a fermentation scientist, I’m just the person who has too many jars on the kitchen counter. So here’s the slightly chaotic wisdom I’ve picked up:¶
- Don’t go too sweet – fermentation + sugar + fruit can get cloying fast. You can always add a tiny bit more sweetener in the glass, but you can’t easily take it out.
- Always taste before you serve. Fermented things keep changing in the fridge. Yesterday’s perfect kombucha might be a bit sharper today.
- Garnish matters way more than you think. A slice of chilli or a weird herb makes it feel intentional, not like “I mixed leftovers in a glass.”
- Use real citrus juice, not bottled. With fermented bases, you really notice bad lemon juice. It’s like putting plastic cheese on a nice sourdough.
- If a jar smells truly off or looks fuzzy with mold, throw it away. Being brave is cute, food poisoning is not.
Where Restaurants Are Taking This in 2026#
What I love right now is seeing how far chefs and bartenders are pushing this. Some of the 2026 openings are doing totally over‑the‑top stuff like:¶
— Pairing a smoky lapsang‑souchong tea and plum shrub with grilled mushrooms
— Using house‑fermented jasmine kombucha in a “tea martini” minus the gin
— Serving kanji in tall champagne flutes as a welcome drink at Indian tasting menus¶
A few spots even have entire “fermentation corners” or visible lab setups where you see jars of fruits, herbs, and vegetables bubbling away behind glass. It’s become this sign that a place is taking flavour seriously, the same way open kitchens used to be the cool thing a few years back.¶
You’ll also see more crossover stuff now – like kombucha‑based shrubs, or chefs using leftover sourdough starter to make lacto‑fermented sodas. There’s this playful trying‑everything energy that I’m kinda obsessed with. Not all of it works. I had a blue‑spirulina, passionfruit, and fenugreek kombucha the other day that tasted like a tropical smoothie and methi paratha had an argument. But I’d still rather have that than another basic sugary mocktail with orange juice and grenadine, you know?¶
If You’re Nervous About Fermentation (Totally Fair)#
I get DMs sometimes like, “won’t I poison myself?” or “I don’t have a SCOBY hotel like those 2026 restaurant labs, can I still play?” And the answer is: yes, you can absolutely start small and safe.¶
The easiest entry points, in my experience:¶
- Buy plain kombucha from a brand you like and just treat it like sparkling water with a personality. Mix it with fruit, herbs, citrus, and ice. You’re already 80% there.
- Try making a simple shrub. Vinegar + sugar + fruit is very low‑stress. If it smells like nice pickley fruit, you’re good. If it smells like the back of a biology lab, maybe skip.
- For kanji, follow a trusted formula, keep your jar and utensils clean, and use filtered water. The mustard, salt, and acidity help keep bad stuff away.
Also, remember you don’t have to be perfect about it. I’ve had batches of kanji that were too salty, shrubs that were too vinegary, kombucha that decided to be a vinegar instead – and I still learned from each one. Worst case, you use it as salad dressing. Best case, you invent your new favourite drink.¶
A Final Little Toast (Without the Booze)#
So yeah, my fridge now looks like a science experiment, 2026 menus look like fermentation manifestos, and my idea of a good night is testing a new kombucha‑kanji‑shrub combo while doom‑scrolling restaurant openings I can’t afford yet. Could be worse.¶
If you’re even a tiny bit curious, pick one: kombucha, kanji, or a shrub. Make it, or order it at that cool new place in your city that everyone on TikTok won’t shut up about. Drink it slowly. Notice the layers – the tartness, the fruit, that little funky edge, the way it kinda wakes up your whole mouth. That’s the thing I’m obsessed with. It feels… alive.¶
And if you wanna go deeper down this bubbly rabbit hole, there’s a bunch of fun food stories and recipes floating around on AllBlogs.in too – I end up scrolling there whenever I’m supposed to be, like, actually cooking.¶














