This evening we took our regular dose of ranitidine (generic for Zantac™), an over-the-counter medicine that reduces stomach acid. As we were preparing to wash it down with a glass of water, we accidentally broke one of the two pills, releasing some of the inside of the pill. This gave us the opportunity to savor and enjoy this flower of the apothecary’s art, and we present to you the result.
The initial impression is of sharpness, both physical and chemical. The shards of the pill’s shell give a needly intensity to the already piquant burst of flavor from inside. Overall there is a rush of tannins and industrial astringent agents, without the pleasant chiaroscuro of sweet or soft one might hope for. There is, of course, a fruity exploding nose redolent of JP-32 aviation fuel and butterscotch.
Directly following this bitter-bitter cascade, a rush of near-acetone-like aroma occurs, with a pulsating rising nose that strains to the apex of the sinuses. This produced at least in this observer a reflexive slapping of the left palm to the chest, as if suffering from a coronary artery occlusion, and a faint epithet.
After this sharp symphonic blast the finish levels off quickly into a wide palate of pine, wintergreen, and electrical insulation. Hints of bitter almond and antimony can be detected through the essentially caustic bloom on the tongue.
We rate this a 32, on scale where 0 is tap water and 100 is glacially pure hydrofluoric acid. As an example, Flonase dripping down the back of the throat rated a 10, and Yoo-Hoo is a 71.
Until next time, we are your faithful Chevalier de Tasteguhh.