6 hours Ago By Vita Molyneux
I may not have much of a sweet tooth, but I love a beverage. I have a fun little drink in my hand almost 24/7 from juice, to Coke Zero, all the way into a rum and ginger ale or a pint of cider. If it wasn’t for my bank account balance I would drink juice by the gallon, so when it came time to taste test five British beverages, I was excited.
Having grown up in New Zealand there are plenty of British classics I've never tried - from crisps , biscuits , to chocolate to sweets - and now it was time for drinks (non-alcoholic this time round). Below are my honest reviews of the five drinks I tried ranked on their smell and taste, and as an additional bit of fun, I’ve added what I think would pair well with them. Upon opening there was an immediate chemical waft - as well as a quiet fizz, but no sign of bubbles which I didn’t like.
Never trust anything if you can’t see where it keeps its fizz. The scent of this strange purple liquid was almost like ice cream, a soft vanilla with an undertone of dirt. I had heard conflicting reports of Dandelion and Burdock - some people had told me they loved it, others had given me looks akin to those you’d offer at a wake, so I wasn't sure what to expect.
What I didn’t expect was how medicinal it tasted - like if vanilla ice cream had cough medicine rippled through it. The depth of flavour also offered up maraschino cherry, and a note of old women’s perfume that I can’t quite place. It wasn’t great but it also wasn’t terrible - I’d probably drink it again if someone’s grandma offered it to me.
I think it would pair nicely with a sprig of mint, plenty of ice and maybe a splash of gin. Rating: 4/10 This one was tricky - I assume it’s aimed at children but I found it very difficult to open. Possibly this was user error but I’m not in the business of thinking I’m the problem, so I’ll blame the bottle.
The smell was insane - so much so that I had to ask a coworker if it was supposed to be like that and she confirmed that yes, the overpowering plastic scent was standard. It smelled like an old bouncy castle left in the rain, or an abandoned McDonald’s play area. The fruit scent was almost entirely lost to the plastic.
At first sip, there was a whisper of apple against the chemical tang of blackcurrant and a strong overture of plastic. This feels like the kind of thing you could chug while hungover and pretend it was good for you. I think this would pair well with two paracetamol and a crap reality show on TV.
Rating: 4/10 The first thing that leapt out at me was the label which said ‘made with glucose’. I had assumed all fizzy drinks would be made with glucose, but after a quick Google, it turns out that people use Lucozade not only for bouts of childhood illness, but also apparently for diabetics to treat hypoglycemia. The more you know! As soon as I cracked the lid I suspected we were on to a winner.
There was a strong scent of real oranges - or perhaps Vitamin C pills, but still yum. From the first sip, I was sold. This is just Fanta masquerading as a quasi-medicinal beverage and I loved it.
There’s a pleasant tingle, a far more pleasant fizz than the dandelion and burdock. Side note: everything in this taste test has had a vague undertone of dandelion and burdock. It's haunting me.
If I had to pair Lucozade, I’d hit it with a squeeze of lime, crushed ice and maybe just a hint of vodka if I was feeling fancy. Rating: 9/10 The smell of this was absolutely mystifying - not bad in any way but entirely unplaceable, likely because I don’t actually know what elderflower is. If I had to guess I’d compare it almost to a dry white wine - there was a depth in there that smelled like it might be hiding something alcoholic.
After diluting a few inches of cordial in a glass I took my first sip and I swear I might have levitated. Elderflower cordial is straight up delicious. It was a grey day in London, but this tasted as if the sun had come out and shone for me specifically.
It was light and perfumed with a floral note to it, and no aftertaste at all which I love. I took the bottle home with me, and honestly I will probably buy another as soon as I run out. Elderflower cordial would pair excellently with fresh cut strawberries, a soda water and dipping my toes into a cool lake as the sun shines.
Rating: 10/10 This one is a wildcard. I have been informed it doesn’t count because not only is it not juice, it’s also not a childhood classic for Brits. However, I did buy it, so it seems a waste not to try it.
If you believe the bottle, Huel actually isn’t a drink at all, it’s closer to lunch. “100% nutritionally complete meal” the bottle promised - and I was a little hungry. A quick look at the ingredients promised pea protein, rapeseed oil, oat flour, brown rice flour and a bunch of other minerals and chemicals - and weirdly, a chance of mustard.
It smelled like cereal and meat - possibly that was the chance of mustard. A quick shake of the bottle confirmed my worst fears - this was a very thick drink. Frightenedly so in fact.
I poured it into my glass, and it slopped out menacingly. Suddenly I wasn't so hungry. The initial taste is of chocolate and cereal - not terrible at all.
But then the pea protein makes itself felt - a horrible grassy, gritty aftertaste that coats your tongue and teeth. It is so gritty, and so very viscous. I almost felt like I had to chew it.
I don’t know if normal people drink this or whether it is strictly for bodybuilders, but if this is a meal replacement, I’d sooner starve. Huel would pair well with boiled unseasoned chicken and shattering my rotator cuff doing a bench press. Rating: 0/10.
