The Cult of Wellness

A growing cohort of Torontonians are swapping the coke-fuelled, booze-soaked club scene for cold plunges, sobriety and superfood smoothies

- Olivia Stren

It's an almost objectionably perfect May afternoon, with magnolia trees in luxuriant bloom and skies as crystalline as the blue eyes gazing back at me. I'm sitting on a crescent-shaped banquette in the Riverdale home of Kate Taylor Martin, founder of the organic superfood café Nutbar. The three-storey semi-detached-which she shares with her husband, Conrad, and their three young children-is set to storybook effect over Withrow Park. The house faces east, ideal for its 39-year-old owner's morning routine: a 5:10 a.m. wake-up with no snooze-button negotiations; a hot shower turned ice cold for its final two minutes; a full-body dry-brushing with sisal bristles to promote lymphatic drainage and circulation; a gua sha facial massage to release tension and smooth skin; yoga-mostly twists and cat cows because, as Joseph Pilates said, "You're only as young as your spine is flexible"-and meditation. Finally, Kate whisks up a ceremonial-grade matcha with Nutbar's own nut milk, doctoring it with magnesium, marine collagen and a reishi mushroom tincture known as the "elixir of immortality," savouring it as she watches the sun rise from her third-floor picture window.