Scum-sucking epicure

I'm secretly addicted to spirulina. It tastes mossy, costs a fortune and makes my lips green, but this highbrow pond scum may turn out to be a wonder algae.

By Ann Bauer

Read more: Cancer, Life, Eat and Drink, Food and Travel

June 5, 2007 | Spirulina are free-floating filamentous cyanobacteria characterized by cylindrical, multicellular trichomes in an open left-hand helix that occur in tropical and subtropical bodies of water with a high pH and concentrations of carbonate.

In other words: pond scum. And I'm addicted.

Nights, I often disappear into my basement with a double-bagged inch or two. I handle it as if it were plutonium, because as foods go, spirulina -- the food product, a singular noun -- is outrageously expensive ($56 a pound at my local Whole Foods, on the odd days it's actually in stock) and because it stains anything it touches a dark, wet-looking green. This is why I eat it only in our dank downstairs family room with its scatter of cat toys, old computer equipment, and castoff furniture.

After I've had my fill, two or three teaspoons at most, I very carefully rewrap what's left and take it upstairs to the kitchen where my children are at the table doing homework and my husband is making tea. He kisses me and uses a paper napkin to dab a smudge from my chin. When I go into the bathroom to wash myself properly, I see in the mirror that my lips are outlined in Gothic midnight jade. But my skin, normally wan and delicate, has an almost rosy glow. And my eyes shine.

The first time I tasted spirulina, it was by chance.

It was four years ago and I was in New York City visiting literary agents at my own expense. That meant staying in a hotel room the size of a wheelchair-accessible restroom stall and eating on about $20 a day. My first night in town, I stopped at a bodega in the Village to pick up two small bags of popcorn and a bottle of sparkling water. This was an acceptable dinner, I decided, because the popcorn was coated with something its label promised was ultra-nutritious, high in protein and vitamins. I was disturbed when, once back in my room and settled on the bed, I opened the bags to discover that the wonder ingredient was a brilliant, aqueous green. Then I got a whiff of its briny odor -- redolent of the slimy, leafy stuff that washes up in tangles on the Eastern Seaboard -- and quailed.

But this was all I had to eat until morning and I was hungry after walking the city all day. So I took a tentative taste, and another. A few more bites and I was hooked.

Whatever was on this popcorn tasted much subtler than it smelled: loamy, mossy and salty, with a verdant after note of sex. I ate the entire bag while watching a rerun of "Monk." Then I opened the second, which was labeled "spicy." This version smelled better, and it was far more festive looking: a Christmasy blend of sea bottom green and chili pepper red. And it was like nothing I'd ever tasted before: crackling, nutty, oystery and wild. The way a deep-water fish might taste if it were stuffed with sweet corn and fire. I ate until only the dregs remained.

I half expected to be bilious the next day, hung over from my junky, salty meal. But I wasn't. In fact, I awoke feeling wonderful: inexplicably healthy and strangely "clean." I didn't link this directly to the spirulina, not at first. But when I returned to Minneapolis and made my own algae-covered popcorn, I had the same rejuvenating experience. I began craving it, eating spirulina three to four times a week. Over the next few months, I noticed that my hair felt thicker, my clothes fit better, and my chronic allergies seemed to have disappeared. Yet, something about this habit seemed shameful and weird.

A restaurant critic, I'd spent much of my career talking to chefs and gourmands about good food. No one I knew was eating spirulina. This isn't a delicacy you can bring out to share with your friends, slice up, and enjoy with a nice bottle of wine. Eating algae went counter to all my epicurean instincts.

At one point, I decided to get the green monkey off my back for good. I went cold turkey: no spirulina at all for three months. And though the craving disappeared within a week or two, my nails soon grew brittle, my allergies came back with a vengeance, and I had less stamina during spinning classes. Finally, I capitulated, and the response was swift. After only a few doses of spirulina, I felt as I had in New York: clear, clean and full of energy. Perhaps -- I remember thinking -- I'm actually some sort of sea creature. Part mermaid.

The truth is less fanciful. It's likely I simply needed protein, vitamins and minerals such as iron, manganese and zinc.

As a Minneapolis restaurant critic, I was eating spectacularly well. But often my diet was governed by editorial directives rather than hunger; if I were working on a cover story called "50 Best Desserts," for instance, I might eat five varieties of crème brûlée, when what I really needed was steamed tofu and broccoli. Supplementing with spirulina -- which is rich in all of the elements listed above plus Omega-3 and Omega-6 fatty acids, calcium, potassium, copper, folate, beta-carotene and vitamin K -- was an ideal way to achieve balance.

"Spirulina is one of the only non-animal sources of complete protein," says Jessica McNamara, product specialist for Frontier Natural Products Co-op, which supplies spirulina to natural food stores and cooperatives throughout the country. "It has all eight of the essential amino acids in the correct proportion, plus 10 of the 12 nonessential ones. So one serving all by itself translates into 5 grams of complete protein for the body. And for that reason, it's become really popular with strict vegans and people in the raw foods movement."

It's also extremely low in calories (26 per tablespoon), carbohydrates and fat. And because the carbs it does contain are complex, married to a protein- and mineral-rich base, McNamara says it's possible spirulina also stabilizes blood glucose levels by slowing the body's process for metabolizing sugars and simple starches. But she's reluctant to make any overt health claims.

Others are less reticent.

Next page: Can spirulina boost the immune system?