I Tried It: Vegan Meal Cleanse
What happens when you give a red-meat-and-vodka-loving editor a cleanse?
I open the one-day meal kit from Café Gratitude and take inventory of what I’m allowed to eat over the next 12 hours. For breakfast, there’s a pretty coconut yogurt and fruit parfait in a mason jar. I have no idea what the crunchy brown granules are at the bottom of the jar, but I like them.
Time for the “Gifted” juice, a fuchsia potion of beets, pineapple, grapefruit, and ginger. I love the smack of fresh ginger and the earthy flavor of the beets, but as I sip, I can’t help but think this would be so much better on the rocks with a good vodka.
Lunchtime! I’m having a macrobiotic bowl. The label says it has kimchi—but I don’t see any slivers or chunks of bright-orange spicy cabbage—kale, brown rice, carrots, and more beets. I pour the green tahini garlic dressing atop and mix it all up. The dressing is really good; I should have asked for two ramekins of it.
According to the restaurant, I’m supposed to have a feeling of “lightness and renewal” at this point, but what I am is lightheaded.
Dinner is a “Caesar” salad of chopped kale, a few croutons, and half an avocado. I need something toothsome. I’m already missing the texture of meat and fish. How do people do this for three days or more?
I can’t stop thinking about breakfast. I Google “what time does In-N-Out open” and am dismayed it’s not till 10:30.
I force myself to go to bed. The sooner I can wake up, the sooner I can eat.
The next day
I wake up and feel… good, strangely. Not ravenous. (I really thought I’d be making a mad dash to McDonald’s.) I didn’t have dreams of bacon. I make a cup of coffee and have a small portion of smoked salmon. I don’t want any more food than that. What is this sorcery?