It was with a degree of trepidation that I approached FIZZ. It is billed as an effervescent tablet that can transform a glass of champagne, cava or prosecco into a full-blown fruity cocktail, but I couldn’t help thinking that combining FIZZ with fizz suggested imminent disaster. Wouldn’t the tablets – essentially a booze-friendly Berocca but with none of the boring old vitamins – make your glass of fizz foam up over the glass and all over your living-room floor, embarrassing you in front of all your glamorous party guests?
Reasoning that this would be a hideous design flaw and therefore surely not likely, I dropped my first FIZZ tablet into a flute of prosecco and watched as the fizz foamed up over my glass and all over my living-room floor, embarrassing me in front of all my … well, let’s just say it’s fortunate that I have no glamorous friends.
Unfortunately, FIZZ only got worse from here. The tablets come in three flavours – elderflower, rhubarb and tropical passion fruit. I sampled the latter, and it tasted … how can we put this? … less than great. Bitter, artificial and with the undeniable “vibe” of a men’s urinals, the majority of the glass went down the sink. Judging by the taste of it, it might just have helped with unblocking it, too. To do this to a glass of even the cheapest fizz is an act of liquid vandalism, heaven forbid anyone who considers dropping one into a glass of Pol Roger Brut Réserve.
Items such as FIZZ are tempting because they tap into our desire for quick fixes and “hacks”, when sometimes skill, experience and the ability to throw an aluminium shaker over your head while flashing a white-toothed smile should be valued instead. Making a good cocktail, like making most food and drink, requires love, not a tablet. Besides, a drop of Chambord or fruit juice are far more effective ways to jazz up a glass of bubbly.
Admittedly, FIZZ was slightly more pleasant when dropped in a glass of tonic water – although mild urine notes persisted. And when dissolved in half a pint of water it was almost verging on the drinkable. But it will not improve your champagne.
Instead, it makes it look like a science experiment and taste like the inside of your mouth during the low point of a nasty illness. FIZZ fails on all tests – unless, that is, you are struggling with Dry January, in which case, it might just provide the perfect solution.
