My children gathered around me as I dumped the scoop of the Perfect Food into a white bowl, "What's that stuff, Mom?" "The Perfect Food, my dears. But I don't want to talk about it just now." I reply in an unconvincingly controlled voice. Huh? My ragamuffins shot puzzled looks to one another. Apparently they noticed my look of sheer disgust as I gazed down at the strange mound which appeared to have suddenly multiplied from one scoop to enough to cover the entire bottom of my dish. If only it didn't still smell like the kelp I give my goats. I tried hard not to breathe. If only the powder weren't that all too natural shade of bright green even after sitting untouched on the shelf for another two weeks. This time I intended to eat the mix dry instead of mixing it into the undesirable prescribed drink. I collected an ambitious heaping spoon full and stuck it into my mouth and pleaded with myself silently, "Swallow. Just swallow. Come on. You can't just waste $35.99 on some grand health experiment. Swallow the darn stuff." Gulp. Gag. Spit green globs into the sink. Swig water like an alcoholic downs Mad Dog. Dash to find any food which will tackle the wretched taste in my mouth. "Mom doesn't like that stuff" my wide eyed children conclude. Yes, I can and will waste $35.99 on a grand health experiment today. I poured the remaining powder from the bowl back into the can. Helen says I should sprinkle it on my broccoli. Today is not the day to try that approach. Maybe I'll wait another few weeks.