Erewhon (AIR-wahn)

Let’s get one thing straight: I FUCKING LOVE EREWHON. I shop there two to three times a week, spending at least sixty dollars for three to four items and then thank them for allowing me to be financially abused by their services. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t hate them just as much. 

If you do not live in or around LA, let me describe this pretentious wonderland of organic delights to you: any dietary restriction you could ever dream of is accounted for here—dairy free, gluten free, keto friendly, soy and nut free, raw, kosher, macro, no additives or preservatives, locally sourced, no hormones, plant based, sugar free, cauliflower errrrythang…their tag line is, “if it’s here it’s good for you.” At their bougie ass smoothie bar you can add organically sourced bee pollen for antioxidants, salt from a cave in the Himalayas for your thyroid, protein powder made from California hemp for the vegans, free range natural Peruvian cocaine (maca) for energy, milk made from wizards, and the tears and blood from Jesus Christ himself for emotional support all for the reasonable price of $70 plus your first born child. Everything is made from what seems like made up ingredients and will taste like ass on occasion and will cost you your full paycheck.

Things I purchase regularly from there (everything is organic, obvs):

A chicken combo meal from the hot bar that includes two small vegetable sides: $21

A vegan, gluten free brownie sweetened with monk fruit sugar: $13

Five tennis ball sized brown rice balls with vegan cheese: $16

Grass fed AND finished ground beef: $16

Butternut squash soup: $13 (if you return the big glass mason jar that it comes in you get $2 back!) 

Mighty greens from the hot bar (a bunch of fucking green shit like kale, spinach, and swiss chard, tossed with quinoa and olive oil): $9 for a tiny container that I will house in three minutes. 

Things I’ll never buy again:

Raw, kelp noodles: $13 for a tiny container, reasons for not liking is self-explanatory. KELP?! Ew.

Raw, vegan “burrito” made from ground garbanzo beans and wrapped in collard greens: $18, almost made me gag

Brussel sprout slaw with sliced almonds: $11, raw brussels are bitter af

Package of three wraps made from dehydrated zucchini, coconut, and apple: $18, they almost broke my jaw trying to chew through them

Their produce looks like it was whispered positive affirmations and massaged like A5 Wagyu cows before being picked and displayed, all sparkling and juicy and bright. And they somehow manage to find the farmers who can pull that off without the use of pesticide treatments or steroids. (I’m eagerly awaiting the fire Netflix documentary that’s going to come out about the conspiracy behind all of this.) If they find one abnormality in their vegetables or one tiny bruise on their fruits, they toss them into a bin to ship off to a place where the poors can afford it. Their packaged food is mostly all exclusive to Erewhon or was made in house from scratch. However, sometimes you will find the exact same products there that you can get at other grocery stores that carry health foods, but you will pay $2 more for it at Erewhon. Why do they get away with that? Because FUCK YOU that’s why. And also because A list celebrities shop there who don’t know, nor do they care that they’re being bamboozled. 

I’ve had the most batshit run-ins with Very Famous People at the Erewhon location on Beverly. I once saw Jake Gyllenhaal, who just happens to be my #1 celeb crush. He was on his cell phone and I saddled right up next to him to pick up my favorite $7 vegan parmesan cheese, not knowing it was him, and he and I made deep, intimate eye contact. I immediately freaked the fuck out and just started grabbing shit, panic filling my entire shopping basket with cured meats and cheeses. I then walked two adrenaline filled laps around the store, made sure he was gone, and returned all of that shit to its shelves. Jonah Hill was standing there staring at me while in line at the hot bar one day. I said, “what’s up?” and he just…continued staring…??? I also once gave the most hipster looking dude I’ve ever seen (handle bar mustache, shin high socks, a vest??) a ride to the car wash where his car was being cleaned because he didn’t want to walk there under the heat of a thousands LA suns with his heavy bags (reusable, of course) full of goat milk and spaghetti squash. I watch enough true crime to believe that anyone looking to hitchhike is 100% a serial killer, but he was very persistent. I reluctantly agreed to give him a ride to his vehicle, which was for sure going to be like a Volkswagen van or something equally vintage and stupid. As he got inside my car I jokingly said, “you’re not going to rape and murder me, are you?” and he responded with, “I’m just a regular Erewhon shopper, just like you.” Totally something a serial killer would say. 

In an effort to make small talk during our mile long trip I asked the dude, “what do you do?”

“I’m in a band,” he said. Everyone in LA is an actor or a writer or is in a band. I was like, aw, that’s cute. 

“What’s the name of your band?” I asked, touched by his impractical hobby that he would never make money from. 

“Maroon 5.” 

*Cue the GIF of the dumbfounded blinking guy.*

LA is SO weird. 

Thank you, Erewhon, for existing for all of the people with dietary restrictions. But also fuck you, Erewhon, for being so overpriced and pretentious. But also, thank you for valet-ing my car when the parking garage is full. But also, fuck you for making my straws made from plants disintegrate in my fresh juices.

Published by loverlo

Actress, writer, lover.

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