Expect a smoothie summer

Compare this on your July Fourth weekend.

A 12-ounce McFlurry with vanilla ice cream and M&M’s minis has 650 calories. While the imitator with those same minis is less than 400 calories at Whirled Peace in Paoli — except it spreads to a good 16 ounces when you add the ice.

250 calories right there in the bank.

While waiting this week at another smoothie bar, the whole system went kaput. The woman in front moaned. I heard panicked gasps behind me. My jaw hinged open.

Heads shook, dry tongues waddled. We needed a fix. Had we really come to this as a $1 billion smoothie nation? Were we so tied to our busy meal replacement lives the mere thought of grinding food in our mouths seemed archaic? Most of the ingredients were sitting right there and we could chew-and-go. If we had the time.

Briefly I considered convening the group on the curb and crushing the round flesh of whole fruits with our car keys, but really. Does kiwi juice mix with steering fluid?

If I sound like a born-again liquid foodie, you’re right. As a person who’d rather chomp than slurp, I’ve been a naysayer about wasting my meals on something that looks like kids’ bubble bath. My teeth I feared would search for raw meat like a lion to a kill.

But recently, I admitted I was wrong. Smoothies, I conceded while doing five things at once, satisfy nutrition while providing a long-lasting treat, all without wasting time. It can be an M&M —a Maximum Meal.

I talk to Lani Frank, the owner of Whirled Peace and a candidate for Chester County Register of Wills. I hope she wins because if I suddenly die, I’ll get my R.I.P. wish: raspberry, ice, papaya.

Lani: “My fruit is fresh, not frozen, like most places. And we don’t add sugar. It’s just healthy and delicious and you decide exactly what you want. You build it, we blend it.”

Me: “But does it taste as good as the real fat-laden deal?”

Lani: “It satisfies the same way. Ice cream gives you a heavy sinking feeling. You don’t get

As a person who’d rather chomp than slurp, I’ve been a naysayer about wasting my meals on something that looks like kids’ bubble bath.

that with frozen yogurt.”

Who wants to sink in summer?

Armed-with-smoothie — and barely enough time to suck it — I run to the market, the drug store, even the gym. It digests onetwo-three. You can’t even say that about sushi. And yet . . . Since I’ve gotten hooked I’ve noticed this: Ingredients have been piling up in my house. Instead of picking up an apple and eating it, I’m cutting, spinning, drinking. Then washing the blender, the glass . . . You know, busy work. Afraid I won’t find a daily dose, I’ve stored frozen bananas, mangos, berries. Estimates are 60 percent of the frozen fruit bought in markets is used for smoothies.

Officially converted, I stock up on yogurts, almonds, protein powders, juices.

Every day I’m slicing and dicing, blending and experimenting.

Maybe it’s time for a Vitamix I think, or a NutriBullet? Maybe some tall glasses and fancy straws?

Since I’ve fallen in love with smoothies, I’m busier than ever.

But going back to chewing? Especially if the experts say you should gnaw each bite up to 30 times. That’s a lot of wear and tear on these old tusks.

I get in the car and drive recklessly to Lani’s.