‘You really should have chucked it,’ I tell him.

‘I’m getting notes of camel piss and sweaty socks, what about you?’

‘Rotting vomit and vinegar.’

We spend a few minutes catching up before we ditch the kombucha altogether.

‘Let me show you something,’ Joel says, moving over to a sealed humidor on the kitchen countertop. The countertop itself is made from cast concrete, and has hundreds of tiny LEDs embedded in the surface in a pattern reminiscent of a galaxy. I get lost in it for a few moments. Joel opens the humidor, an intoxicating aroma infusing the room.

He finds what he’s looking for and hands it over to me. It’s a couple of really frosty-looking buds, more so because instead of the usual green colour the buds are almost pure white. They glitter as I turn them, the trichomes containing all the goodness sparkling in the light.

‘What’s this?’

‘This is what I was telling you about.’

Joel’s a smart guy; he left university with a degree in research pharmacology and worked for a big pharma company for several years before deciding to go back to study for his PhD. Which was a surprise to everyone because he switched disciplines, working on some obscure aspect of plant phenology. His move made a bit more sense when, on completion, he went to work for one of the major cannabis seed banks where he was in charge of the breeding programme for over ten years. His brief was to constantly develop new strains for a hungry worldwide market. With increasing legalization in the States, and decriminalization in some parts of the old continent, more and more people were saying no to dealers and growing their own. And it was Joel’s job to make sure his employer had a steady supply of new and exciting strains. But just over a year ago he decided he’d learnt enough to leave and start his own company.

Now his time is split between Amsterdam, the operation he set up down in Spain where the bulk of the commercial breeding takes place, and twice-annual trips to places all over the world looking for wild strains with which to enliven his already lively gene pool.

‘The one from Ecuador?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, took the cutting two years ago and we’ve crossed it with about ten other varieties. All of them were good, but this particular cross is something really special.’