13 March 1968 Feeling healthy and virtuous after a vitamin bursting meal, a Guardian correspondent gives up smoking - for a day
I noticed first the light, airy, I scrubbed-pine-and-cane appearance of the new health foods restaurant in Carnaby Street. The waitresses in blue paisley were young, smiling, and a bit Roedean.
The food looked strange with great bricks of dark bread, small steaming pottery bowls of anonymous vegetables, huge wooden dishes of shredded greenery. “I’ll have a little of everything,” I said. In fact, I had a lot of everything. At a quick glance, I could recognise lettuce and carrots. The rest was familiar, but not immediately recognisable.
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