Swing-top glass bottles and fermentation go hand -in-hand. Many of us have had a scary explosion on the counter from too much pressure. Sugar and yeast ferments build so much more pressure than a fermented vegetable can and it can be dangerous. Back-sweetened ferments are the most dangerous. If the bottle has any kind of unknown weak point it can become a dangerous bomb. (Don’t use decorative squared sided ones for this reason.) for this I met Season at the Pittsburgh Fermentation Festival and she asked me is there a safe way to open a swing-top bottle? She proceeded to share this story with me. We talked about it. I wasn’t able to offer a lot. Though from my understanding of the physics of carbonation in liquid and how it will try to equalize as soon as it gets air, I think the fact that the bottle was only half full made the pressure worse. There are other options — recycled plastic soda bottles being the safest.
Season wants to bring awareness to the dangers, not to scare people, but just to remind them to be cautious. This can be making sure your beverages are fully fermented before long term bottling, keeping actively fermenting back-sweetened bottles in a plastic tub with a lid while fermenting and always chill before opening.
Without further ado, here is Season in her own words.
"I always told my husband if i ever needed stitches that he is to stitch me up himself and skip the expensive ER copay and the inevitably large medical bills that would follow. I mean, how hard could it be, right? This was assuming, however, that IF I were to ever need stitches, it would only be a minor cut that super glue just needed a little help with.
Then...in March of 2019, I ate my words.
I had brewed a batch of kombucha a month or two earlier that I had forgotten about in a growler with a swing-top lid for its secondary fermentation. I knew it was likely to overflow once I opened it not only because it was in my pantry for so long but also being at room temperature. I was exhausted from a long day of cooking and cleaning and was finally ready to call it a night when I decided to check my forgotten kombucha. Before then, we had used plenty of old Grolsch bottles with swing-top lids in the past for other naturally carbonated beverages, and only ever had one explosion (I was well aware that "bottle bombs" were a thing, but they mostly seemed to happen on their own in someone's fridge or pantry, not while opening them). It had happened when we weren't home and with a batch of ginger ale made from my first ever ginger bug. It, too, had been sitting out at room temperature, but I just assumed I may have used a little too much ginger bug in the batch. Any other bottles we opened were just temporary geisers.
This particular growler of kombucha was only half full, so I assumed there could only be so much pressure built up and it would be safe to open at room temp (but still done so over the sink).
I couldn't have been more wrong.
I began to slowly release the wire bail, waiting for the "pop". But, as soon as I could hear the faintest hiss of air start to sneak its way out of the lid (the wire bail still being mostly latched), it was like a bomb suddenly went off. I looked down at my hands and the growler was just...gone. I thought I had felt something brush my cheek when it happened --pressure, not pain --, but my first thought after the explosion was, "oh, sh*t! I just made a HUGE mess!" Then I started to think about all the microcuts and glass that was probably embedded in my hands, but I couldn't feel anything. I didn't seem to have any cuts or any pain or irritations anywhere.
My husband inquired from the other room, "what was that??" As I started to answer him, I noticed blood on my hands.
"Oh.. I'm bleeding," I said, more annoyed than concerned (blood doesn't bother me).
I moved my hands to the side into better lighting to take a look, and then I realized the blood wasn't coming from my hands...it was coming from my face. And it wasn't stopping.
"Oh my gosh, I'm REALLY bleeding...like BAD."
My husband rushed into the kitchen and, as soon as I saw the look on his usually jolly/light-hearted face, I knew it was bad.
"Oh, wow... you're REALLY bleeding. Put pressure here!" He grabbed my hand and showed me where to hold on my cheek, but then immediately grabbed my other hand to place on the same spot.
"No, you need to REALLY put pressure here...as much as you can." He firmly squished my face between my hands and his.
We didn't know it at the time, but facial wounds bleed like a mother because of all the vasularity. So, it was nearly impossible to stop the bleeding, which made it difficult to look for any other injuries.
As he was gathering a few clean rags for my wounds (the wounds we could find, at least), I told him I think we need to call an ambulance, which was a big request from me. But this was bad. Really bad. I didn't even know a person could bleed that much and still maintain consciousness.
As he was on the phone with 911, I made a point to not look in any mirrors or reflective surfaces for fear that the severity of my injuries might sway me towards going into shock. But then I realized...I couldn't feel anything...at all. This cut on my face? Nothing. The cut I just found on my arm? Zero pain. My neck could be sliced and I wouldn't even know it. Just as I came to that realization, I felt that hot/cold sensation of when all the blood rushes from your face -- as if I had just seen a ghost. I immediately yelled for my husband to check my throat.
"Is my throat slit?? I can't feel anything. Can you tell??"
He did his best to examine me through the mess, but I think we both just mostly HOPED I was in the clear.
I sat down and elevated my arm above my chest until the ambulance got there after noticing a healthy cut or two. When the medics arrived, I was beyond relieved. They were absolutely amazing. However... because it was St. Patrick's Day AND it was a growler that caused my injuries (and no one else knew what kombucha was), everyone quickly assumed that alcohol played a role in the accident (this was later the case at the hospital as well).
The doozy of a slice on my cheek was so deep that the medics were concerned it went the whole way through. I tried sticking my tongue out through the side of my face
"Can you thee my dung?"
Thankfully they couldn't, but we later found the thick chunk of glass that matched the pattern on my cheek.
The ambulance ride felt like a long one, but my co-pilot in the back, Philip, made sure my first (and hopefully last) ambulance ride was a good one. After realizing my injuries weren't deadly (*sarcasm*) we started cracking jokes back and forth and even kidded about the awesome selfie opportunities this could give me.
After we made it to the ER and they examined my whole body for cuts, it took a total of 27 stitches to put me back together...8 on my arm, one on my chest, and the rest on my face. My husband was a pretty rambunctious fellow in his day, and I easily beat his stitches record in one night. And man, did I feel like it the next day. My face was so swollen that it was difficult to speak clearly.
I was extremely lucky with the outcome of this accident. Looking back, a lot worse could have happened. I could've been hit in the eyes and blinded. My neck could have been cut. Someone else could have been standing near me and also been injured. Our house's dimensions are 40x40 with an open floor plan. Due to the sheer amount of pressure that was built up in the growler, we were easily finding pieces of glass 20 feet from where I was standing over the next several weeks and months, and my cupboards now glistened from shrapnel if you looked at them in the right lighting.
Now, when I look back on this day, I know there were some precautions I could have taken to prevent this. For one, I should have never let the secondary fermentation go on as long as it did (Master Procrastinator, here). Second, I should have refrigerated the growler over night to help reduce some of the pressure. Although, it is possible that this may not have made a difference if the extra head space from being half-filled actually allowed for MORE pressure to build up. I've since read of people opening suspected bottle bombs in buckets of water to buffer potential explosions, but, overall, there doesn't seem to be much in the way of safety information online for making fermented beverages at home. This was really concerning considering what I had just gone through. We may never know the exact reason for the explosion (was it the extra headspace? The over-carbonated kombucha? The sudden change in pressure from releasing the lid?), but we did learn from it. The hard way. And we certainly don't want anyone else to go through this.
My story is not meant to scare people away from fermentation but to simply bring awareness to what *can* happen, especially if you leave a ferment unattended. I hope my experience will start a discussion on safety measures with using swing-top bottles for fermented beverages and how to safely handle suspected bottle bombs. We've personally chosen to stop using these type ot bottles (partly due to the psychological stress I experience around them now), but I don't feel this is necessary for everyone to do. Many people have used swing-top bottles for years without any issues -- but so had we. Fermentation is not an inherently dangerous process. But (much more minor) mishaps do occur. So let's work together to culture awareness in the fermentation community, but, most importantly, to keep fermentation fun and safe for everyone."
Season Petrovich, Owner
Cultures, LLC
