Miracle Berry experiments, Part 1

A new gourmet grocery store opened by the trainstation on South Orange Ave. near my apartment.  They sell each berry there for $5.  They’re tiny.  The one I got was the size of a largish blueberry.  The pit inside is huge, about the same proportion of fruit to pit as a mango, maybe worse.  The berries themselves taste reminiscent of grapes, but they’re not very tasty overall.  Here’s the breakdown of what I tried, in no particular order, except for as they come to mind:
lemon = delicious.  Probably my favorite. The miracle berry seems to bring out the true flavor of the lemon, which is normally hidden behind all that acidity.
lime = nasty and bitter, but my roommate loved it the most. Perhaps it hit us differently. Perhaps I got a lime affected by citrus greening. Fucking citrus psyllids. . . .
coffee = tiny hint of sweetness and a richness reminiscent of chocolate, although that’s probably just the coffee itself.
jasmine tea = tiny hit of sweetness
dark chocolate (80% cacao) = mildly sweet.  Just the right amount of sweetness, in my opinion. I tried it again after the effects of the berry wore off, and I didn’t notice much of a difference. Perhaps the miracle berry didn’t even do anything?
kiwi fruit = tasty, but perhaps less so since the acidity was totally nullified. Either way, I loved it.
orange = particularly sweet.  Like the kiwi, this one was also probably less tasty because the acid was totally nullified.
cheap merlot = still awful.
a shot of raspberry vinegar = disgusting, but probably because the effects of the berry were wearing off.
manchego cheese = the same.
cornichons = veeeerry interesting and tasty. Complex and rich. Hard to describe. Tasty.
pickled cocktail onions = sweeter than the cornichons. Normally they are more sour, so it makes sense to me.
chipotle mustard = sweet. Too sweet. Kind of flat-tasting without the sourness.

That’s all I tried. I didn’t have beer. I hear beer tastes like a milkshake on miracle berry.

It’s important to note that my roommate and I split a single berry because I felt outraged at paying $5 for a single berry. We each bit off a piece, chewed thoroughly (we were Fletcherites for 20 seconds), and held the juice on our tongue for 20 seconds to ensure that our tongues were as coated with miraculin as possible. I’m ordering my own plant online for $95, which is old enough to bear fruit (2-3 years old). I just have to figure out when it’s supposed to bear fruit (season). Interestingly, though, even at such a low dose, the effects were significant and obvious. My assumption is that with larger doses, the effect is more pronounced and persistent. The effects of our experiment lasted about 15 minutes. I can’t wait to try more.

My epic dessert pivots around the usage of miracle berry, and I hope to God someone hasn’t already made a dessert like mine. It’s so hard to be original these days. Right when you think you’ve come up with an original idea, you find out that someone, somewhere, has already been there and done that.


4 Responses to “Miracle Berry experiments, Part 1”

  1. I may have to get ahold of a few of these, for the purposes of experimentation with alcoholic beverages. I think a Tom Collins would probably be fantastic.

  2. Can I be part of part 2? 🙂

  3. I would never do crack, but miracle berry is another story. Hook me up, yo!

  4. […] Berry Experiment 1.5 So I took the seed from the first miracle berry I tried and I planted it in a little plastic cup with some potting soil. Hopefully it’ll […]

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