I Drink Soylent So My Broccoli Can Whore Out

A current ongoing quest in my life is to find a place that sells table grapes that are actually good, rather than just fine. I had a grapes spot in Waterloo, and if I can't find one in Toronto I will die mad forever. I like food, and I spend time and resources on it generously. I splurge on good eggs, and in-season produce, and fancy tea. I scope out restaurants, and specialty grocers, and apple varietals. There are currently four kinds of balsamic vinegar in my pantry. So you can call me a little snobby about food. And, in a typical week, I drink three or four bottles of Soylent. The Soylent on one of my pantry shelves, next to a loaf of exquisite sourdough from one of the best local bakeries, and a small fraction of my tea stuff. Some people are confused by this; they ask how can I stand to eat "bad" food when I enjoy "good" food so much. They sometimes imply that I'm supposed to be better than this. But I think this is silly. As a tenant of a human body1, I require a certain number…