Buffalo Smoothie

In 1978 I was blending smoothies in the student union at Tufts, in Medford. Growing up in Swampscott and hardly traveling at all, I had never even heard the word “smoothie” before, though maybe it was a fairly new thing. It was so pleasant making them—mainly yogurt (which roommates and I also produced in our apartment), banana, peanut butter, honey, wheat germ, milk and/or orange juice. Probably some granola for good measure. I know for certain the banana was essential and gave it structure. 

Wish I could remember the undoubtedly clever name of the smoothie stand; it was “crunchy” as hell and we were all in for the power of natural dairy and protein. I could have lived indefinitely on these smoothies. At least that’s how it seemed. 

About that time I also became aware of things called “Muenster cheese” and “tortillas,” since we also sold veggie wraps. The profits benefited the “Roots and Growth House,” a campus housing unit where I would sometimes hang, helping make and enjoy vegetarian meals. 

Bob Marley could be heard on any given spring day pumping out of apartments around campus. This was another revelation—Reggae. My musical tastes until then had skewed bi-coastal: New England folkie (Dylan, Tom Rush, Bill Staines, David Mallet) and L.A. folk-rock (CSNY, Joni Mitchell, Jackson Browne, Youngbloods, Eagles). I’d largely ignored a lot that friends had main-lined: Stones, Floyd, Zeppelin, Tull, Black Shabbas… Since I was emulating my brothers and playing acoustic guitar, that stuff just felt too far afield. Yet somehow I had been entirely oblivious to Reggae! This music—with its positivity-even-through-hard-times ethos and a beat that seems to meld with the rhythm of the heart—felt like a perfect accompaniment to the flow of liberal arts college life in the late 70’s. Mellow, with a beat.

The blending of a smoothie takes a little time. Today you can reach into a store case for a bottled one, but where’s the satisfaction in that? At the stand you could see and customize every ingredient going in. Thicker, thinner, sweeter, peanutier. Watch it all meld together. You spoke to the maker, and they spoke to you. You interacted with the food, the environment, the vibe. And you let Bob Marley ease you through the morning.