Though it sounds suspiciously like the latest AI programme set to the nab this very typing job from me, Sentia is instead billed as the “world’s first Gaba spirit”. No, me neither.
Sentia describe Gaba as “a fundamental neurotransmitter that regulates every other major hormone system and neurotransmitter in the human body.”
Though in tone specious marketing bollocks, this is in fact just a bad sell. Really, Gaba stands for “gamma-aminobutyric acid”, which — we’ll skip the GCSEs — calms the nervous system. And so, Sentia claim, it offers the joys of boozing — that first ease into relaxation, the rounding of the day’s angles, the inclination to say something you shouldn’t — with none of the nuisance: no hangovers, no anxiety (“no regrets” can’t be guaranteed), no irksome rotting of the liver. Or, if you like, it’s an alcohol-free spirit that can still get you pissed. Or a bit pissed, at least; squiffy. Sentia are aiming to give drinkers the “a couple in” buzz; that little lift, the early laughs. It is not the stuff for wading into deep water with.
Quite how said squiffiness is achieved is left to smoke and mirrors; each drink contains “a patent-pending blend of ingredients”, which upon further investigation are found to be a “a unique blend of powerful, plant-based ingredients”. This is about as illuminating as a drunk at last orders trying to explain neurotransmitters, which might explain where they got the copy for the website from.
But — giving the whole thing a shot of respectability is Professor David Nutt, the Imperial College neuropharmacologist. Those with memories not yet eroded entirely by drink might remember Nutt as the name who got booted off the Government’s Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs as chairman for (not wrongly) suggesting that taking ecstasy is, statistically speaking, no more dangerous than horse riding. But that’s ancient history by now — 2009 — and Nutt has continued on, upturning and unravelling the improvements and impairments that come with different drugs. Alcohol is his favourite, he’s said (he co-owns a wine bar in Ealing), but it’s also one of the most harmful drugs society has to face, the enjoyably illegal ones and all.
Nutt is behind Sentia, which in truth seems to be a stop-gap as he attempts to get Alcarelle — his synthetic alcohol — past regulators and to market. It too will offer the joy of a few, without the downward slope of the morning after. Like Sentia, Nutt says Alcarelle has been developed with the two-drink-lift in mind; going on a proper tear is out. The perfect Sunday evening drink, or for the quick after work bitch. One for a lovely lunch without writing the afternoon off. Those arms-around-each-other, 3am bonding moments are out of reach but it sounds an answer to countless prayers otherwise. And given most things fun things that can be consumed tend to also corrode the insides, I’m all for it. Make mine a large alcarelle and tonic, landlord, slice of lime and plenty of ice.
Between us were spit takes, rounds of coughing and more than a few eyes watering
But in the meantime, Sentia. That guff on the brand’s website says it’s perfect for “sophisticated hedonists”, which is as moronic an oxymoron as they come. And while sophistication is a seldom seen thing, I know a few hedonists. Some are even journalists. Sentia say their drink can be enjoyed over ice, mixed into a cocktail, or simply poured into a glass. Being a hardy bunch, we went straight in. It perhaps wasn’t the right call. “George's marvellous medicine vibes,” was Clare Finney’s takeaway. “Actually, worse than medicine?”
You can watch the results in the video above. The two flavours we try are red and black and you too may find they’re a bit of a gamble. I found flavours of beetroot, cranberry, and er, mince pies. But between us were spit takes, rounds of coughing and more than a few eyes watering. “It tastes muddy, like mud, soil-y,” declared Millie Milliken. Josh Barrie compared the smell to Alan Titchmarsh, albeit only on a hot day. But can it actually give you a buzz? Well, half the class felt it. The others remained decidedly flat.
Here the trouble bubbles: a non-alcoholic alternative to traditional boozing is likely to always be welcome, especially as the country trends towards drinking less and less. But weaning people off their favourite wine is going to require something with a flavour that works —a flavour that’s, you know, flavoursome. Nice. Few go into a bar and wonder if they’ve anything with hints of Calpol. I’m for anything that lessens liver damage and that stops people falling into the trappings of drink. So while sentia might not be a smash yet, I’ve hope Alcarelle will be a straighter arrow.
