Nutribullet – the conversational mainstay of fitness bores

Rhik Samadder tests the Nutribullet
Rhik Samadder tests the Nutribullet. Photograph: Sarah Lee/Guardian


The Nutribullet Graphite (, £99.99), a high-torque power base that drives rotating blades within a fuselage canteen. Used primarily to mix fruits and greens into a nutritious emulsion.


Because there’s a revolution on, you solid-food-eating, inguinal-crease-lacking, old-school sucker.


The Nutribullet

Like a maître d’s nightmare, I come to the Nutribullet late, and with reservations. For months, people have been preaching to me about this. “So, it’s a blender?” I ask. “Nooooo. A nutrition extractor. It makes the vitamins in pulp and seeds bioavailable,” they howl, which makes me think someone is filling the damn things with Kool-Aid. They are the conversational mainstay of fitness bores, who see food as fuel and wish meals came in pill form.

See, a “Nutriblast” is 50% greens, 50% whole fruits, plus a “boost” of seeds, nuts, matcha powder, unicorn shavings, whatever, all blitzed into an on-the-go meal replacement. Which means losing texture, colour and individuated flavours. I managed to turn a gorgeous heap of kale, strawberries, blueberries and nectarine into something that looked like I’d dragged a sieve through the Thames. And it’s infantilising. Declaring that you live off smoothies is like begging someone to take away your vote.

And yet … a week later, I’m still using it. Why? It’s one of the most convenient kitchen gadgets ever created. The vertical design is sleek, with a small footprint and solid build quality. It has precisely zero buttons. Washing up is extraordinarily minimal: mixing containers double as drinking cups, so run the screw-off blade under the tap and you’re done.

I start to tailor my ingredients, swapping water for almond milk, or adding mango, kiwi, and topping up with frozen berries, which are more affordable and refreshing. A sprig of mint for lift, and it’s a perfect summer refresher. Plus, a morning Nutriblast feels like finishing homework on Friday night: having got my five-a-day all at once, who’s to say I can’t just eat lollies for the rest of the day (apart from every nutritionist on the planet)?

A blender this useful is too good to be co-opted by the spirulina snorters. Here’s what Nutri-dullards aren’t telling you – it’s not for healthy people. It’s for incredibly lazy people. I’ll drink to that, any day.

Rhik necks his Nutriblast
Rhik necks his Nutriblast. Photograph: Sarah Lee/Guardian