Mmmmmmmmm, good.

 

A few weeks ago, the thought of a restaurant whose culinary philosophy is based on a hokey 1970s invention called 'macrobiotics' (loosely meaning 'long life') did not excite me in the least. I don't buy into things like feng shui in my living room, let alone some diet that aims to balance the yin and yang of food. How would one even classify particular foods as being either yin or yang, for that matter?

Though some elements of macrobiotics, like using only whole grains, avoiding refined sugars and dairy, and minimizing fat intake by limiting it to the healthier nut and fish oils, seem practical, the rest of the jargon seems arbitrary, made up and snake oily -- just like all those other fad diets such as the cabbage soup one, the kind that limits your food to only one color, or the recent darling that would have you believe that French women don't get fat because of their life philosophy and ability to enjoy things in moderation (rather than the 3 day cleanse at the start of the diet where the adherent may only consume leek broth).

However, I was pushed to try M Cafe de Chaya (alright, even the name is pretentious, unwieldy and not all that attractive) by High Cholesterol Guy.

I resisted. He insisted. And I hate to say it, but I liked it. I liked it so much that I clandestinely went back without him for lunch; later, I confessed to him. But I was reluctant to do so, as with this admission would come much poking fun of the Dabbler for her preconceived, unfounded opinions. I hate to admit I'm wrong, and even worse, I hate seeing the satisfaction on anybody's face -- especially High Cholesterol Guy's -- in the rare cases that I must do so.

The Bistro Salad, with its simulated chevre chaud (made out of some sort of soy concoction) is delicious. The squash soup is as good as anywhere I've had in Los Angeles, and High Cholesterol Guy tells me the Carolina-Styled Barbecued Seitan Sandwich is an admirable reinvention of its pork predecessor, and the Chopped Salad even better. Numerous critics and bloggers have noted the quality of the fare.*

The first time we went to M Cafe, it was empty. I had been dragged there. I ate my Bi-Bim-Bop slowly, pretending I didn't like it (even though I did) and stubbornly snarling that the place, in a doomed mini-mall storefront that has seen several restaurants come and go, was sure to fail. The owners put a lot of money, too much I said, into renovating the space. And while the decor was inviting in a spa-chic kind of way, I couldn't wrap my head around masses flocking to eat imitation meat, fake goat cheese, or pastries that contain no refined sugar or dairy. I derided it, and gave it three months before going under.

But this is LA and I should have known better. Turns out, the pastry chef used to be Gwyneth Paltrow's private cook. Jason Schwartzman was in line last night excitedly waiting to order a Melrose Avenue Muffaletta (made with seitan 'salami' and miso-cured tofu cheese; apparently you can get seitan and tofu to taste like anything). With such a pedigree, the aforementioned reviews, and the LA obsession with youth (and the complementary 'macrobiotic' philosophy of long life), I should have anticipated the SRO crowd we encountered yesterday at dinner.

This is a bandwagon, and one I'm going to happily jump aboard. Unfortunately it comes at a price. The food is at least 25% more expensive than it would be if it weren't 'macrobiotic', and therefore I will only be able to indulge in it on occasion. It seems you have to be wealthy to be healthy. Macrobiotics, here I come -- at least when I can spare the change. The rest of the time, In-N-Out will have to be the yin to M Cafe's yang.

*Somehow, though, I think that the French fries on the menu are a stretch by anybody's definition of health food.