So I bought a juicer. I do like me a good fresh juice – carrot juice particularly, for some reason – but I hardly ever get to drink it because…. $3 for a tiny glass of carrot juice at Jamba Juice? Yeah, screw that.
Also, does anyone still ever go to Jamba Juice anymore?
I won’t lie, either; I also got it about three quarters of the way through watching “Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead.” I was a little tipsy at the time, and apparently hokey documentaries on Hulu have replaced infomercials as my preferred method of late night time killers. I call them my “documentertainment.”
I don’t expect that to catch on. In fact, I kind of regret saying that at all.
At any rate, I woke up the next morning to a vague feeling of buyer’s remorse, and an email from Amazon saying, hey buddy, thanks for the sixty bucks.
Well I just made my first two cups of juice – the first was a tiny cup of carrot juice which (aside from the juicer) cost me about thirty cents, and the second was a hacked-together version of some juice recipe I found online.
I can already tell if I’m going to drink juice out of this thing regularly, I definitely need to formulate some of my own recipes. It promises to be interesting, because this will involve balancing flavors in a whole new way for me. I’m not really a salad maker, so I’m not actually very familiar with how to “cook” with raw flavors.
For example, carrots are delicious. I don’t care how you eat them or make them, they’re pretty damn good. On the other hand, kale is delicious when lightly sauteed with butter and garlic, (just so we’re clear, this is an easy way to make *anything* delicious) but when eaten raw, is… rather less appealing.
This recipe called for carrots, kale, an apple, and some other crap I didn’t have laying around, so I threw in some cucumbers and some extra carrots.
The taste is… interesting. The title of this post is what I’m calling this particular juice, because it kind of defies description.
Let’s see if I can, though.
You know how air freshener – pick any type you like – smells just super dandy?
And you know that hot, greasy loaf you pinched after a week straight of doritos and Cotijas burritos smells like a week-old skunk corpse in a microwave?
Now if you try covering up the second smell with the first smell, you don’t get a smooth transition. You get a strange melange of delightful and horrific, which makes the intestinal disaster oddly appealing, and will forever give your air freshener a nightmarish edge, which will hover around the edge of your perception until you finally just can’t use that air freshener anymore.
This juice is like that. It’s skunk-poo-cinnamon-glade.
Back to Henry’s for more carrots!