On a recent Saturday evening, I tilted my head back and guzzled a quarter bottle of Tabasco sauce, fully expecting to be catapulted into orbit. I swallowed and waited for the explosion.
Wow. My mind registered “Doughnut glaze. Gooey, hot doughnut glaze!” But how could that be? I took another swig of hot sauce.
Thanks to a little known pill manufactured from a berry native to West Africa, we can now change how our food tastes. How would you like to open a can of Sauerkraut and find that it tastes like your mother’s sweetest apple pie?
Or, what if you chomped into a lemon and it tasted like your Aunt Emma’s lemon ice box dessert? Or gulped down a glass of straight vinegar and it tasted like Bailey’s Irish cream?
Red bell peppers and carrot sticks no longer need to be relegated to a veggie platter. With this new miracle berry, even rabbit food can now masquerade as a healthy refreshing dessert.
My son, Braddock, ordered some of the “Miracle Berry pills” off the internet and we had a party. He did some shopping for items we don’t normally enjoy – bitter fruit such as grapefruit, lemons and limes and my most hated vegetable – Brussels sprouts. Under the influence of the berry, I couldn’t get enough.
Just think of what this could mean to folks who have a weight problem because of too many Hershey Bars, or French fries, or (you fill in the blank with your guilty pleasure). You will no longer need the Hershey Bar because you can get the same kick from a pickle!
You pop the little pill in your mouth and swirl it around until it dissolves, then you’re ready to experience the miracle. We lit into a healthy buffet of bitter fruits, pungent cheeses, sour pickles, and experienced an explosion of wonderful sensations. The effect lasts up to an hour.
I’m told the berries produce a protein that fools your brain into thinking sour food tastes sweet. Crazy, right? I opted to buy Miracle Berry tablets rather than the actual berries - the tablets are heaps cheaper and keep longer than the berries. So then you can keep the extras in your purse and pop one before boring low calorie lunches.
During the 1970s, a ruling by the Food and Drug Administration dashed hopes that an extract of miraculin could be sold as a sugar substitute. In the absence of any plausible commercial application, the miracle fruit has acquired a bit of a cult following. It is widely marketed on the internet and I’m told people from coast to coast are holding Miracle Berry parties.
Since I’m not such a great cook, I’ve ordered the big economy size to serve my guests as appetizers. Before you know it, I will be hosting my own cooking show on the Food Network.
Emily Jones is a retired journalist who edits a website for bouncing baby boomers facing retirement. She welcomes comments at www.deludeddiva.com .