How to Get Erewhon’s Smoothies in NYC Right Now

Since I first looked at the State of the Smoothie in New York in 2024, I’ve seen ever-more Erewhon dupes entering this city’s ecosystem. They’re easily identified by the contrasting streaks of vegan cream and fruit lining the cups at East Village Organic, Oases, and plenty more. But then this fall, word arrived that at last Erewhon itself would open in New York — or at least an Erewhon bar inside Kith Ivy, a new far West Village sports club with a $36,000 membership fee. But Coconut Clouds are Coconut Clouds no matter where they get made. You don’t need to be a member to get one of these smoothies delivered (via Uber Eats and Postmates), but you do need to be within the delivery zone, which, on the first day, is within one mile of the Kith club.

Neither my home nor my office is anywhere close to that zone, so I did the only reasonable thing: I posted up at the Arlo Hotel in Hudson Square and ordered one of each smoothie to be delivered to the front desk. The order I placed at 11:32 a.m. was in my hands 36 minutes later. I paid $2.99 for “priority” delivery.

Before we get to the quality of the smoothies, we should discuss the price further. The smoothies are famously $20, but they are more like $25 on the East Coast: The bill for a quartet of Malibu Mango, Coconut Cloud, Vanilla Matcha, and Strawberry Glaze Skin smoothies came out to just about $130 after all the taxes and fees were added — Uber and Kith need their cuts too. So even if these smoothies are not literally gatekept, they’re expensive. When I spoke with a former Erewhon employee last year, they emphasized that despite all of the silliness of the brand, customers can be assured that quality remains high everywhere. After spending dinner money on four smoothies, I expected them to be as good as they are in Calabasas.

I unloaded my caddy of its red, blue, yellow, and green drinks at the off-hours hotel bar, already decorated in full Christmas regalia. I went first for the Strawberry Glaze Skin smoothie, f.k.a. the Hailey Bieber smoothie. My first sip consisted entirely of the “strawberry glaze” layered on the bottom, which is basically syrup, so I raised the straw to taste from the heart of the cup. As I adjusted to the continued sweetness, what at first seemed like a pleasant strawberry slush turned bitter. I could immediately taste fake sugar within the fresh fruit. When I checked the ingredients, I found the culprit was right there: vanilla stevia. The back and forth of actual sugar and fruit against the chemical aftertaste of diet sugar was compelling as a metaphor for Hollywood but not as a drink.

It’s possible I liked the Malibu Mango smoothie the most simply because it has a lot of fruit, but it’s more that this drink makes the case for the existence for luxury smoothies in the first place. Mango, pineapple, and coconut really shine in each other’s company without any weird interference, and while the ingredients list stevia in this one, too, I couldn’t taste it. This smoothie also held its texture the longest and is one of the better-looking smoothies with its topping of coconut chip, mango purée, and coconut cream. If I had to deem one of these the most worthwhile, and I will because I trudged to Hudson Square in the rain just to do this, it would be this one.

Tasting the Coconut Cloud after the others didn’t do it any favors because the fruit drinks are much sweeter. This, by comparison, is the mildest of them all, a mellow banana frappé given dimension and its distinctive Klein Blue hue from a dose of spirulina. Despite the exciting color, the smoothie is deprived of any acid or tang from the included pineapple, which I struggled to taste against the banana, avocado, and almond butter as well as the creamy coconut clouds drifting throughout. It’s rich but bland, fine for breakfast, and in this case I think some of the copycats around town have it beat.

I was particularly looking forward to the Vanilla Matcha smoothie, which was the most expensive of the bunch at $26.50. It includes sea moss, lion’s mane, and tocos, a vitamin E supplement that arrives in the form of raw rice bran. I didn’t take offense to any of these supplements, mostly because I couldn’t taste anything over the oatmilk and “grass-fed vanilla collagen,” which tasted like a protein bar. Lacking any fruit to give it structure, this one was already pretty melty by the time I got it, while the others felt more like actual smoothies. I couldn’t detect any matcha to speak of, only chlorella dust stuck to the inside of the cup, which was also dark green and tasted like nothing. Is this how the other coast really lives?