There’s a scene in Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me where Austin is telling Felicity Shagwell about the year 1999. Jokingly, he says all the food in the future is in pill form and the planet is ruled by apes, only for her to be horrified. That was me when I first heard about Soylent, Silicon Valley’s meal-replacement drink of choice. I was disgusted by the future.

When I first heard of Soylent (on Reddit, of course), users hailed it as an “amazing alternative to food” or a great staple for when you’re too lazy to eat. Soylent isn’t a pill but an off-white 400-calorie drink with a consistency somewhere between a milkshake and pancake batter. But not unlike the futuristic concept of food in pill form, its only purpose is to make you feel like you just consumed a meal, effectively relieving you of all the enjoyment food can provide. It’s Ensure, but for nerds who prioritize efficiency over pleasure.

My disgust stemmed from many places: the fact that anyone could be “too busy” to eat; that somehow, after hundreds of thousands of years, humans decided they needed an alternative to regular food. Humankind didn’t go through the horror of ’70s food trends only for us to drink pasty, flavorless sludge.

Even though Soylent lovers are the fervent Hamilton fans of food innovation—they’re onto something.

As Soylent gained mainstream popularity, I felt validated for having such a deep hatred. Soon everyone was making jokes about the company’s eccentric CEO, Rob Rhinehart, a man who once literally stopped taking shits to save water. Soylent had its place as the butt of jokes about clueless tech bros. But just as it solidified its place on the Internet as one of the Worst Things Ever, I began a sinful relationship with the product.

One day this past summer, my best friend sent me a text message that said, “Someone at work gave me a Soylent, and it’s actually pretty good.” I cracked my fingers and began roasting her. “Congratulations,” I said to her, “you’re officially on the wrong side of humanity.” She told me it was so nice to not think about lunch for work. I assured her she was becoming lazy and needed to check herself. She ended up liking it so much she bought a case.

The month of Ramadan was soon approaching, and in Canada that means almost a full day of not eating. Before a day of fasting begins, Muslims usually eat a pre-dawn meal—something I strategically plan for. The first couple of days are always a little difficult, so my friend suggested I take two bottles of Soylent, “just to see.” Hunger can make anyone do crazy things, so I took up her offer and drank it the next morning.

I’m ashamed to admit it worked. I was less hungry than I’d ever been during a summer Ramadan. It was as efficient as all the nerds said, but beyond that, I genuinely fell in love. The thick yet smooth texture and its bland cereal-milk taste were comforting, for some reason. It made me feel like I ate enough food, but it didn’t weigh anything in my stomach. While I was repulsed by the website’s image of a hip Soylent drink, I purchased a case and began looking forward to drinking one every morning before dawn.