Now that the artificial sweetener aspartame (Nutrasweet) has attracted suspicion , you might be thinking twice about that daily Diet Coke or Splenda (sucralose) in your coffee. Not that this is surprising; even without the stroke and cancer warnings, the word "artificial" alone conjures up images of shadowy figures in lab coats concocting solutions destined for your stomach. Much more reassuring are images of freshly plowed farms tucked in the mountains, like the one on the jar of Lundberg Family Farms' organic brown rice syrup. 
 
 Brown rice syrup is just one of many "natural" sweeteners that have taken off in the wake of the backlash against artificial sweeteners like aspartame and sucralose, which, of course, were invented to defeat the dietary axis of evil -- refined white sugar and high fructose corn syrup. Once confined to Berkeley communes, these not-refined-sugar, not-man-made substances pose a huge marketing opportunity, since most people who avoid sugar don't want to get cancer but also aren't ready to commit to a joyless, dessert-free existence. Natural sweeteners are the perfect answer to this conundrum. Right? 
 
 The biggest problem is that the term "natural" is a slippery one. Unlike with organic foods, there are no official standards in the U.S. to determine a natural versus unnatural food. Essentially, it's a word that promises a lot -- those wholesome fields -- but can mean nothing. 
 
 The potency of that promise depends on the leap people make from "natural" to "healthy." But because the popularity of alternative sweeteners is relatively new, there's no definite consensus on their long-term risks and benefits. Plus, there's no telling what unholy quantities Americans will consume of a sweetener with no yet-known health consequences whatsoever. 
 
 Then there's the issue that sugar, in all its caloric and cholesterol-boosting splendor, is just so damn delicious. For one thing, sugar is more than just a sweetener; in baking, it's a structuring agent that resists lumping and introduces air into batter as it creams, creating a fluffy and even texture. It also caramelizes when heated, developing a flavor much more complex than mere sweetness. How can you beat that? For people with diabetes or sugar allergies, natural non-sugar sweeteners can be a godsend. But those seeking a consequence-free sugar fix, beware: not all sweeteners are created equal. We took a standard sugar cookie recipe -- flour, eggs, vanilla extract, butter -- and subbed in a different sweetener for each batch to find out what works, what doesn't, and what actually tastes good. 
 
 Agave syrup 
 
 The facts: Beloved by raw food enthusiasts, agave syrup has become one of the easiest alternative sweeteners to find in grocery stores. It's derived from the Mexican succulent plant agave, of which there are several varieties. It has to be processed to become sweet, and depending on that process, it can be comparable in composition to the dreaded high fructose corn syrup. True, agave has a low glycemic index -- meaning it releases glucose into the blood stream at a slower rate than refined sugar -- so it can help keep blood sugar levels stable. Eating agave as a "healthy" alternative to sugar, however, is pointless; the two have the same number of calories, no nutritional value whatsoever, and, even though it doesn't spike blood sugar, the primary sugar in agave, fructose, has been linked to cancer and cholesterol problems when consumed in large quantities. 
 
 The experience: Agave syrup is very similar to honey or maple syrup in terms of consistency, though it has a distinctly deeper, cleaner sweetness than either, without as assertive a flavor. Subbing agave for sugar is relatively simple; because it's sweeter than sugar, a cup of sugar should be replaced by ¾ cup of agave syrup. Don't expect an identical product, though -- our crack team of Salon taste-testers noted that cookies made with agave syrup became "densely chewy" and "raisin-like" in taste, with a "nice complexity." 
 
 Brown rice syrup 
 
 The facts: Brown rice syrup is what happens when cooked brown rice meets barley malt enzymes. The sweetness comes from starchy complex carbohydrates, which take a couple of hours to digest. As a result, the glucose is released gradually into the bloodstream, providing a steady supply of energy rather than the rush -- and crash -- of cane sugar. Plus, the syrup maintains some of the nutrients in brown rice, like protein, so it's not a total nutritional bust like most sweeteners are. 
 
 The experience: Although nutritionally, brown rice syrup is the best you could hope for, it certainly doesn't taste like table sugar. Maltose (the kind of sugar in brown rice syrup) is not as sweet as sucrose, so you'll need about 1¼ cups of syrup to replace a cup of sugar. By itself, brown rice syrup is similar to butterscotch in taste and consistency. Baking it into cookies, though, resulted in an "unpleasantly gummy" texture, and made one tester feel "like I just woke up from a nightmare where I was stuck in a San Francisco commune in 1971, only to find out that it wasn't a dream." The mild butterscotch taste has potential, though, and could work well as a complementary flavor in bread or a savory dish. 
 
 Stevia 
 
 The facts: Stevia's not technically a sugar; it's extracted from a sweet herb of the same name. Therefore it has no calories and doesn't raise blood sugar. Though the FDA labeled it a "dangerous food additive" in 1991 after an "anonymous industry complaint" (read: shadowy figures in lab coats), stevia is now back on the market as a "dietary supplement." In the rest of the world, particularly Japan, widespread use of stevia has been going on for decades. 
 
 The experience: The biggest drawback of this seemingly perfect sweetener is that it has an "odd chemical aftertaste" that is not weakened in the baking process; one tester described the aftertaste of the cookie as "psychological torture." It's a pleasant, pure sweetness at first that just keeps on going ... and going ... and going, long after you are ready for the taste to end. If you can get used to that, you only need a teaspoon of the powder to replace a cup of sugar. Keep in mind, though, that sugar is more than just a flavoring; take away its structural properties from a recipe and you're left with one crumbly cookie. To adjust, we added in more butter, resulting in a shortbread-like consistency. 
 
 Date sugar 
 
 The facts: Date sugar is so low-tech it's kind of funny -- it's just dehydrated dates that have been ground into a powder. That means it's completely unprocessed and retains all the nutrients in dates. It's high in fiber and protein, and has lots of vitamins and minerals like iron and potassium. Plus, it qualifies as a raw food. It still contains sucrose, fructose and glucose, so it's not a good alternative for diabetics or people looking to control their blood sugar. 
 
 The experience: Date sugar seems to be the Salon staff's favorite sweetener of the bunch. It has a very subtle sweetness that evoked almonds for one tester. Another described it as "nutty, not super sweet." The cookie's texture turned out to be "very crumbly" and "chalky" but not unpleasant. Date sugar's not soluble, so don't try to put it in tea or coffee. It is, however, simultaneously delicious and nutritious, which is no small feat. ||||| For the past eight months meals in his household have been healthy remakes of meaty standbys. “I make a great avocado Reuben sandwich, a faux meat loaf, roasted butternut squash soup, and lots of pasta,’’ says Faulkner, whose wife and 8-year-old daughter have also converted. 
 
 Eric Faulkner, a professional in high tech, is baking a batch of vegan cookies in his Lowell loft. He minces few words to explain why he became a vegan. “I’m scared to death of cancer,’’ says the lanky 42-year-old. After reading “The China Study’’ (Benbella Books), which purports that animal protein can accelerate the growth of cancer, diabetes, and heart disease, Faulkner ate his last cheeseburger. 
 
 Perhaps the ultimate hegan is Rip Esselstyn, a veteran firefighter and triathlete in Austin, Texas. He helped the men in his department lower their cholesterol in 28 days by shunning animal protein and then turned his efforts into the best-selling “The Engine 2 Diet’’ (Wellness Central). Though not billed as a vegan diet per se, Esselstyn’s “plant-strong’’ lifestyle helps lower cholesterol by going meat-, egg-, and dairy-free, he says. “Sure there is a stigma attached to it, that it’s for yuppie, tree-hugging, emaciated weaklings,’’ he says. “That is far from the truth. I like to say that real men eat plants.’’ 
 
 Three years later, sipping a yerba mate latte at the Sherman Cafe in Union Square, the buff and bright-eyed McCain is the new face of veganism: men in their 40s and 50s embracing a restrictive lifestyle to look better, rectify a gluttonous past, or cheat death. They are hegans. They are healthy. And they are here to stay. While no one was looking, guys were stepping up to the wheatgrass bar. Famous hegans include “Spider-Man’’ Tobey Maguire and singer Thom Yorke of Radiohead. Atlanta Falcons tight end Tony Gonzalez was vegan for a few years but now eats seafood and chicken on occasion. 
 
 When McCain reached his mid-40s the party ended. Topping the scales at 257 pounds and bulging out of his clothes, the stout father of three was fat, unhappy, and “terribly uncomfortable.’’ On the advice of his childhood friend Brian Rothwell, a yoga instructor and lifelong vegan, McCain cut meat, dairy, eggs, chicken, and fish from his diet and added power vinyasa yoga, which helped him shed 60 pounds in eight months. “I feel like a million bucks. And if anything, I don’t look like a slob anymore,’’ says McCain. 
 
 SOMERVILLE — For most of his life Joe McCain subsisted on pepperoni and sausage pizza, steak bomb subs, and anything “fried, fried, or fried.’’ In other words, says the Somerville police detective with a shaved head, snowy beard, and tattoos cascading up his arms, chest, and neck, “I ate like an American.’’ 
 
 To stay competitive during rugby games, athlete and writer Jay Atkinson of Methuen substituted soy cheese for the real deal last summer and cut out turkey sandwiches. “I needed to extend my career by staying lean,’’ says Atkinson, 52. He was already eating well before he turned to veganism. Commuting to Boston to teach magazine writing at Boston University or slapping on skates to whiz across a frozen pond, he needs as much fuel as he can get. The vegan diet delivers. 
 
 “During the week I’m hustling. This is the perfect diet. I couldn’t bring a ham with me,’’ says Atkinson, who tosses protein bars, fruit, and water into a pack before heading out for the day. Like most hegans, Atkinson, a single father, taught himself to cook. Spicy black bean chipotle stew and potato and asparagus soup with fresh dill are two of his specialties. He feels nutritionally satisfied as a vegan, but admits there are some drawbacks. “The big thing is learning to cook for variety. I’d like to be able to make 30 to 40 meals instead of 10,’’ he said. 
 
 There are no hard numbers on how many hegans exists. By nature most men don’t make their eating habits public. “I’ve never been called one,’’ said Bob Bouley, owner of the new vegan restaurant, The Pulse Cafe, in Davis Square (see Cheap Eats review, Page 3). “Being a vegan is not something I flaunt, it’s just something I believe in.’’ 
 
 Of the diners who flock to his warm, Caribbean-toned cafe for smoked tofu and portobello maki, a majority are women, Bouley says. “Judging from our Facebook page, 65 to 70 percent of our fans are women between the ages of 18 and 35.’’ 
 
 In Newton, the raw vegan restaurant Prana Cafe is poised to become hegan headquarters. On a rainy evening last month, Fred Bisci, 80, the well-known lifestyle nutritionist from Staten Island, N.Y., dined on bountiful greens in the candy-colored cafe that serves smoothies, salads, and vegan wine next to a yoga studio. In town for a speaking engagement, the limber and chiseled hegan of 40 years, is a walking tribute to eating lean. “A lot of people think it’s radical. It definitely prolongs your life. No question about it,’’ says Bisci. 
 
 Taylor Wells, who owns the cafe and yoga enterprise with her hegan husband, Philippe, estimates that 10 to 15 percent of their customers are hegans. “We get men who come in who want to cleanse and feel good. We like to ease them into it. I think the word vegan gets a bad rap, it sounds very militant and angry,’’ says Wells. 
 
 But hegan could catch on. “It makes sense that it would become a new fad. We are seeing more men in our yoga classes and they come directly into the cafe,’’ she says. 
 
 Despite the proliferation of vegan products on the market and restaurants that cater to this growing vegetarian subset, hegan living is not always harmonious. There are times, especially in the summer, when McCain will catch a whiff of a neighbor’s barbecue and his inner carnivore will start to roar. But the temptation doesn’t take over. “When you start to feel the way I do and see the results from eating right and working out, it’s hard to think about changing,’’ he says. 
 
 One thing he would like to change is the misconception that being a vegan means being on a diet. “The thing I hear all the time is: ‘Are you still on that diet?’ It’s the farthest thing from a diet. I don’t feel limited at all. If anything, what I eat has expanded not contracted,’’ he says. “I will never diet ever again.’’ 
 
 © Copyright 2010 Globe Newspaper Company.
– Introducing "hegans." The term, courtesy of the Boston Globe, refers to middle-aged men who eat only vegetables, often eschewing animal products to the point of veganism. They don't match the cultural mainstream of veganism—in their 40s and 50s, they're disinclined to proselytize, and espouse little of vegetarianism's new-age vibe or veganism's crust-punk ethos. These are guys' guys who used to scarf down burgers but now want to live longer. A legit trend? Thomas Rogers of Salon isn't so sure and notes that the story is based on anecdotal evidence, not hard numbers. Still, "the succinct catchiness of the word is almost enough to forgive the weaknesses of the article. I can already hear vegan hipsters in Williamsburg and Silver Lake ironically referring to themselves as 'hegans'—which, put in the manliest way possible, is actually kind of fabulous."