Sacramento Bee, 1/99: Raw Deal

[Guest guest]

A Raw Deal: At San Francisco's Organica Restaurant, dining is au

natural because nothing is cooked -- no rice, no tea, no burgers

By Alison Roberts Bee Staff Writer Published Jan. 27, 1999

 

You probably thought you were pretty groovy back in the '70s when

you gave up red meat. By the '80s, if you were at all hip, you gave

up meat altogether.

 

By the early '90s, the alterna-diet standard got tougher: If you

were at all cutting edge, you had to go vegan. No animal-derived

food of any kind, no eggs, no dairy.

 

All that is a piece of carrot cake compared to the latest.

 

Now, as the century draws to a close, it's clean-plate time: To

achieve real status in the diet wars, you have to give up cooking

altogether.

 

Welcome to the age of raw. In the no-no'90s when dietary denial and

enlightenment have become one and the same, this no-cooking, all-

plant food movement is the logical next step.

 

Raw means no tea, lentil soup, not even a little tempeh scramble,

and no dairy or animal, either. Sounds like no fun. But even a

burger lover can take a tasty detour to the land of no-cooking.

 

On a busy block of Ninth Avenue in the Sunset District of San

Francisco, a small, hand-painted sign that says " Organica -- The

Living Cuisine " points the way to the far frontiers of food.

 

Go inside, and you'll see what's not cooking. Namely, everything.

 

A cabbage leaf becomes the " tortilla " for a burrito, milled turnip

becomes the " rice " in sushi, shredded daikon becomes " pasta " and

dried sprouted buckwheat becomes pizza " crust. " There are lots of

quotation marks in the land of faux food.

 

The restaurant is a mecca for those on the dietary cutting edge. As

banana as it may sound (and bananas are allowed), this raw business

is a bona-fide trend. Celebrities including Woody Harrelson, Demi

Moore and Robin Williams have eaten here. (Harrelson recently opened

an " oxygen bar " called O2 in Los Angeles where oxygen-enriched air

can be breathed in, and where a raw chef will uncook your order.)

 

Organica, at 1224 Ninth Ave., opened in 1995 under the more telling

name of Raw. The chef-proprietor was a colorful, charismatic, uni-

named, self-appointed food god, Juliano. He is a flashy evangelist

who says things like, " I'm like the messiah to bring in the new

world " (in a profile in the current issue of Spin magazine). He's

also been covered by the New York Time and People magazine. He

recently moved to Santa Monica to open a restaurant. His un-

cookbook, " Raw: The Uncook Book, " will be published in April (1999).

 

Brian Lucas, 27, is the current owner and chef of Organica. His is a

prodigal vegetarian story. He was raised in a meat-free Seventh-day

Adventist family in Southern California.

 

" When I was about 13, I rebelled; I went meat-eater, " he says. He

didn't find true health and happiness until he went raw about three

years ago when he met Juliano.

 

People call me Basil Lotus, " says Lucas, who on this Friday evening

wears a retro hippie shirt of crushed velvet in a sun-dried tomato

color. He doesn't dish out the same appetizingly outre sound bites

as Juliano -- but his food is just as exotic, and the experience of

eating here is as surreal as ever.

 

Alot of what is served here, by chefs and customers, is a fervent

belief, so thick you could slice it with a knife. Picaresque tales

of detoxing and dietary redemption are a staple of dinner-table

talk. A woman comes in and tells one of the cooks she has a cold; he

looks at her and says simply, " ginger. " But then, diet is always the

answer here. Lucas says without qualification that eating raw cures

cancer, AIDS, diabetes and anything else that ails you.

 

" Raw is the only way, " says Josh Friedman. The 29-year-old from

Santa Cruz stops in for an early dinner. With his sun-bleached,

shoulder-length hair, he is a vision of good health. He wears a

smile of beatific enlightenment when he talks about eating uncooked

food.

 

" It opens up the chi, the current for energy, " he says.

 

For Butch Berry, eating was believing. The 29-year-old lives in the

neighborhood, and came in to try it out about eight months ago. Now,

he's 100 percent raw.

 

" You don't get sick at all if you're 100 percent, " he says with

perfect faith.

 

Cathy Norton, like most mere mortals, says living 100 percent raw

would be pretty tough. But she likes the idea and is a regular

customer.

 

" Usually, I try to be vegan but lately I've been cheating, " she

says. " I'd like to become more raw. "

 

The 29-year-old Norton even brought her parents here. She says they

didn't freak out and actually enjoyed the food.

 

Maybe that's because it's delicious. Even for nonbelievers, we're

happy to report that Organica offers an utterly fun dinner

experience in a pleasant setting. Pillows fill a raised dais by the

front window for those who like to sit on the floor at low tables.

For those who prefer more conventional postures, glass-topped tables

with dolphin-shaped bases line a wall covered with white curtains

and colorful paintings.

 

On a recent Friday evening, entrees included " raw-violi " (daikon

rounds stuffed with blended nuts), mushroom stroganoff, Mongolian

stuffed portobello mushrooms with a ginger sauce, nut loaf, pasta

marinara and sushi. For desserts, there are carrot cake and a couple

of nut-fruit tortes.

 

Entrees run in the $9 to $12 neighborhood; desserts are $5.

 

(Do note: You may bring wine, but other alcohol is not allowed and

none is served.)

 

The closest thing to cooking that happens here (and there are the

sun-dry-or-deny purists out there who disapprove) is in dehydrators.

Lucas defends their use. They only heat up to 105 degrees, about 10

degrees shy of the point at which the life-giving enzymes that are

at the heart of the raw-food belief system start being knocked off.

The dehydrators today hold several " breads " and " pizza crusts " made

of mashed chick peas or sprouted buckwheat.

 

The food preparation area centers around a long counter facing a

bank of about 50 deli-type metal containers that hold all sorts of

magical ingredients. Several juicers, grinders and dehydrators sit

on another counter.

 

Among the three or four chefs this Friday is Whitney McKinney, 33,

Lucas' life and restaurant partner. The couple have two children, 6

and 2. Their household is totally vegan but not entirely raw.

McKinney says she's about 85 percent raw.

 

" It's kind of like the new frontier, " she says.

 

She sees raw as salvation, but there's nothing pompous about her

evangelism. Her manner is fun, from her plaid skirt in a nuclear

shade of pink to a stick-on plastic-jewel bindi on her forehead.

 

During a break, she presents a uniquely Promethean vision of the

fall of man: In Eden, Adam and Eve thrived on a raw diet. The apple

of the usual story is really a symbol for another red and dangerous

object -- fire. And that led to the true original sin -- cooking.

 

This is heady stuff, but then talking to raw believers is a

metaphysical experience. Here, the godhead is gastrointestinal.

 

Like all spiritual communities, this one has its doctrinal

differences, so there's lots of quibbling along with the nibbling.

 

Rawer-than-thou debates rage over whether it's kosher to use

dehydrators and maple syrup. And there are the " living food "

adherents who say raw is not enough -- if it doesn't sprout you

should throw it out.

 

We've come a long way since the term vegetarian was coined in

Britain in the mid-1800s. The raw idea has its roots in the

late '50s and the ideas of the late Dr. Ann Wigmore, founder of the

Natural Hygienics movement. The basic idea is that there are enzymes

that confer extraordinary benefits in raw fruits and vegetables.

 

Several Web sites are devoted to raw food, including All Raw Times

(www.rawtimes.com), which includes recipes and food suppliers. There

are dozens of raw-food cookbooks. There's a magazine, Living

Nutrition, published in Sebastopol. The San Francisco Living Foods

Enthusiasts group even has an event " Sproutline " (415) 751-2806.

 

It's hard to imagine more dietary denial than living raw. But there

are those who claim to go further. A woman with a single name,

Jasmuheen, who lives in Australia (so we can't check her garbage for

Twix wrappers), claims to be a " breatharian, " who does not need to

eat anything. She exists on light, nourished from the god force

within.

 

It makes living raw seem like a piece of cake.

 

Maybe we should learn to like it: It may be all we'll get if

McKinney has her way, with visions of drive-through establishments

(McRawnalds?) in a brave, uncooked world.

 

" We're trying to make it a raw millennium, " she says.