So honored that this post was voted in the Top 5 by this week’s Yeah Write blogging challenge readers, as well as a Lurker’s Favorite!
Last spring Matt and I watched Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead on Netflix. If you don’t know about this documentary, it’s a feel-good movie about how we are killing ourselves by eating crap and how we could find salvation and eternal health if only we would liquefy all our fruits and vegetables and drink them. And nothing else. It’s called a “juice fast.” Why, you ask? Why can’t we just eat regular food? Because when you juice things, you bring out the micronutrients . . . blah, blah, blah. I didn’t really listen. But when some non-physician dude in a movie tells me I should make everything into a beverage or I am going to die? I’m doing it.
No longer would we be stuffing our faces with Chik Fil-A every day of the week except on Sundays when Chik Fil-A is closed because of God. Never again would we come home from the grocery store with bags full of nothing but sausages and chocolate. We’d juice and juice and juice until we were so goddamn healthy it would make other people literally sick. Literally. We win.
Problem was, we didn’t have a juicer and damned if those things aren’t expensive. Oh sure, I could have picked up a cheap Osterizer at Wal-Mart, but we were going to be SERIOUS about this shit and no low-end juicer would cut it. We were going to be high-end juicer serious.
I hadn’t exactly budgeted for a big-ass juicer. Luckily, what we lacked in cold hard cash we made up for in Amex Rewards Card miles. Which, if you didn’t know, you can use on Amazon to buy shit. Figuring bigger was better I bought this Breville Juice ‘n’ Blend combo.
It’s a juicer! It’s a blender! And since the blender from our wedding doesn’t even crush ice anymore – and since we would be drinking all our meals in liquid form – having a kick-ass high-end blender IN THE SAME MACHINE as our kick-ass high-end juicer seemed almost too good to be true. Because now WE COULD MAKE GREEN SMOOTHIES. Which, I’m told, also guarantee near-immortality.
I felt like telling Matt he might as well cancel our dental insurance because we’d be rolling sans choppers from now on. Who needs teeth when you are sucking all your nutrition through a straw? We were going balls out with this juicing thing. I went to the grocery store and pretty much just bought five of everything in the produce department. I didn’t even know what half the shit in my bag was.
There were “recipes” that came with the juicer. But seriously? It’s juice. How hard could it be? We’re not cooking sous vide here.
So we juiced.
There’s a reason they don’t sell warm celery juice at state fairs, or Yankees Games. Let’s just say I doubt it would be a crowd favorite, like Fried Snickers on a Stick. It tastes like crap. Actually, I apologize to crap. You probably taste better.
We juiced again, and this time I added a bunch of apples to it, and it tasted a little less like crap, but not so awesome that you’d want to drink exclusively it. And I thought: You know what else is a liquid diet? Baby formula. And you don’t see grown-ups slurping that down in movies. [Note to self: Make “Baby Formula Diet” documentary. Watch suckers actually do it. LAUGH AND LAUGH AND LAUGH.]
The juicer, months later, sits on our counter, like a statue, mocking me. Also, Matt almost immediately broke the seal on the blender, so the whole kale smoothies thing? A lost dream. Some friends recently borrowed the juicer for a week to see if they might want to buy one of their own and the juicer was all, “Whee!! Field trip!! See ya later, motherfuckers!!” but then the friends brought it back and were like, “Juicer? Meh.”
The good news? Dairy Queen Blizzards® are also liquid health in a cup. And they have a drive-thru.
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