Date #20: Sambazon Acai Bowl (a.k.a. Hemp Milk)

Okay, first manner of business is that Flake, the new cereal bar, sucks ass. I mean sure, it’s better than my roommate's sister's box of generic Fruit Loops that’s been sitting on top of my fridge since November and a carton of rapidly deteriorating strawberries, but as far as options go, it ain't got shit on JuJu. No Fiber One. No Kashi Go Lean. No banana-flavored milk or cake frosting. (Though they did offer Pixie Sticks, which I found equally horrifying and fabulous.) And unlike JuJu, where your basic bowl gets two cereals and three toppings, at Flake it’s one and one. What the fuck? For $4-plus? Let me see...that could potentially buy a full box of Kashi, a carton of soymilk, and at least a half a bunch of bananas. Sure, it takes some of the fun out of it, but these are tough times my friend and at least then I could stay in my PJs. But whatever. The staff was exceedingly genial.

Without any of my high-fiber favorites to fall back on, I went with Puffins and raspberries this go 'round. (I got exactly three raspberries, just so you know. I think you can even see them in the picture. If you look closely.) And my date, Hemp Milk himself, went with a “Flake Specialty,” the Sambazon Acai Bowl – frozen blended Acai with vegan hemp granola (ha!) and bananas.

Okay, before I get into the details of this much anticipated date, I’m gonna quickly walk you through my somewhat spotty relationship with Acai. I’m a big fan of nutrition and superfoods and secret elixirs from the depths of the rainforest jungle and the like, so when my office stocked a box of Acai flavored Emergen-C not long ago, I was only too happy to jump on board with the wonder food. Now, when I was about eight years old my cousin had a birthday party at a hotel. We swam at the pool all day then ate BLTs for dinner and I promptly went home and vomited for the rest of the night. By some stroke of gastronomical fortune, that was the last time I spewed forth anything other than expletives, but the contents of this Acai immunity-boosting packet nearly had me revisiting the Great Ralph of ’89.

I realize that Emergen-C isn’t necessarily the go-to for accurate flavor profiles, but this was vile. It, and anything resembling it, does not belong in or near the mouth of anyone possessing functioning taste buds. (Word up to my roommate who actually doesn't! Seriously.) So I think you can imagine my skepticism surrounding Hemp Milk's choice.

But Hemp Milk loves Acai. Can’t get enough of it. In fact, in addition to its pantheon of breakfast cereals, Flake also carries some really hard to find Acai juice that Hemp Milk actually orders by the case and “gives weekly motivational speeches” about. (His words, not mine. Paints quite a picture though, huh?) Needless to say, before date’s end I was force-fed Acai in both liquid and frozen blended form and, I happily report, it is far more delicious than its powdery perpetrator.

So we finally sat down, me with my trio of raspberries and Hemp Milk with his Acai and hemp granola, and we got down to business. Hemp Milk is not a hippie, in fact, but a European. Half German and half Hungarian, he came to the U.S. 14 years ago and – remarkably – has not even a trace of an accent. (Not a trace!) He was a theater major at NYU, but he’s not gay. I assumed as much, considering he agreed to a date with me – a female – but he really wanted to make that clear and, really, it never can hurt.

Interested in making actual money, Hemp Milk gave up acting in favor of real estate. (Though he still rents.) He’s into music, going to the gym, and basically living in Santa Monica. He played competitive tennis for 20 years. Oh, and back when he was living in New York, he signed with a record label and made an album. A pop album. Oh, Eastern European vegan semi-professional tennis pop star former actor turned real estate agent, you make my dreams come true.

And that, literally, was everything. No concerns about cereal sog here, because our date was pretty much an extended staring/chewing contest with intermittent bursts of banal questions. For two people who share a love of the Acai berry and dairy alternatives, we sure didn't have much to talk about.

When we finally finished, Hemp Milk suggested we hike on over to the beach. You mean extend this awkward discomfort in both time and space? Sure! It’s sunny out. Why not inch my way toward melanoma with someone I have nothing to say to. And so we racked our brains for conversation starters and we walked, mostly in silence, down the Venice boardwalk. From the Jamaican proselytizer to the Russian father-son acrobatic duo we literally didn't say a word to each other. Not one. When we got to the guy blasting “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” from his boombox, I suggested we turn around. And then we walked all the way back.

Fortunately, I think Hemp Milk and I were on the same recycled page when it came to the success of the meeting, because the date ended shortly thereafter, with nary a phone number request. I’m back, baby!