Let me just preface anything that comes below with this: it's pretty tough to be "into juice" without sounding like an endlessly pompous asshole. (Or, in my case, having a relative over the age of fifty making a joke about O.J. Simpson.) Despite the many eyerolls I get from splurging on liquids while hating to cough up money for overpriced booze, I can't help it. Buying cold-pressed elixers for eight to twelve bucks a pop does in fact feel equally great and like putting your dollar bills through a sugary shredder.
This, friends o' friends, is exactly why I'm taking to making the stuff myself. In a Vitamix blender. Now, the process ain't cute by any means — I'm officially the homegrown granolahead equivalent to shiny Manhattanites' sleek plastic bottles packed with liquid produce money — but even with having to involve plastic gloves, turning the kitchen counter bright beet red and an array of nut milk bags (heh), it's working, and working pretty well.
I've been feeling grade A crapola lately, mostly due to my recent status as a full-time employed individual paired with the inability to go to bed early. To me, bedtime is when I fall over tired like a rag doll who's been pumped full of Benadryl. (Every night is a two-human sleepover in my house, only I'm treating the guest terribly by making him stay up two extra hours and share a bed with me.)
I tried my hand at that tiny shot of ginger juice up there this morning, a $8 version of which I've been known to stock up and build tiny creamer pyramids out of when feeling run down, and well? It was kind of awesome. It tastes like fire and doesn't contain the miracle ingredient Oil of Oregano (yes, I deep-read juice label literature), but I woke up feeling on the brink of a sick day, and now harness my regular levels of hardened-towards-the-world coffee deprivation and mild insanity. (An improvement!)
I'm one of the many to pledge my allegiance to Juice Press, sure, but the most bizarre thing I've discovered while trying to churn these things on my own is that there's no handy New York-centric resource on how to do this stuff. No manual, no help desk, no tiny guide of "oh, raw veggies after four hurts your liver because they're hard to digest" and "oh, beet and carrot juice are actually sugary and will give you a spike which you don't want at certain parts of the day." (Did you know those things?! Me either!)
Why hasn't anyone capitalized on this, in the style of a thick cut paper indie zine a la Kinfolk, just letting us know what to eat when? I'm just a nice Midwestern girl just trying to figure out what's gonna happen if I chug this tiny espresso cup of pure ginger, who can't understand why I have full, updated knowledge of Lady Gaga and Perez Hilton's squabbles but can't figure out if trying to be healthy will backhandedly kill me.
While I pine for an A-Z health guide of what to make with nature's misshapen sweet blobs for which benefit, I'm left to endlessly wonder: where else can we find out about this stuff in the meantime? I guess Goop should put a pause on shilling cashmere blankets and five-star hotels and let me know what the fuck properties liquified garlic or mushed-up celery has. (Earth to Gwyneth, perhaps quite literally?) I find it so odd that I've grown up with a backseat knowledge of chicken's virtues, but only find out about Coconut Oil's miracle benefits — and insane "hey look we're having dinner on the beach!" flavor — from my friend Jes happening to bring it up in person.
A later topic of conversation of course has to be if healthy oils and goops and juice is even worth it considering the crap we eat (my dinner last night: chopped salad from Spitzer's, Blow Pops, bodega chili and lime almonds) but at this point, I'd much rather have an encyclopedia for this shit than a nice steak dinner. Though, both would be nice. Knowledge is power, or whatever they say to keep kids in school. (I wasn't paying attention.)