Photograph: Pete Cottell
Others Tested
Four Sigmatic Organic Coffee for $17: Four Sigmatic was founded about a decade ago by Finnish-American bohos who had the prescience to market mushroom coffee to woo-woo Angelenos who are rich enough to disregard science. Its catalog is expansive and includes a whole constellation of mushroom-infused ingestibles, with bagged, preground coffee serving as the flagship product alongside instant latte mixes, smoothie add-ins, and “capsules.” Buying from Four Sigmatic is a breeze—no need for subscriptions, kits, or any other nonsense. Just pick out what you want, pay for it, and it shows up on your doorstep a few days later. Four Sigmatic’s Focus blend is labeled as a dark roast, but it’s missing the cigarette-butts-and-bowling-alley aftertaste that looms on the finish of similar blends. Despite my preference for lighter beans, this hit like a hug from an old friend after weeks of sipping murky silt. The caffeine buzz normalized after two days of using Think in lieu of more standard shroom-based coffee replacements, so I added a three-quarter-teaspoon hit of the powdered Focus blend to my daily cup to see what would happen. Within 10 minutes I felt an overwhelming urge to sort my finances spreadsheet in preparation for tax season, then I set up a new template in Loopy Pro to accommodate a friend who planned to join my basement jam session that evening. He bailed, but I was jacked on Genius Adaptogens so I played all the instruments myself into the wee hours of the night.
Photograph: Pete Cottell
Not Recommended
MUD/WTR Original Blend for $60: The packaging of MUD/WTR isn’t quite as unhinged as a bottle of Dr. Bronner’s, but it’s definitely in the same realm. The spicy dust inside the can is a maximalist circus of weirdness as well, with herbaceous stalwarts like turmeric and masala chai holding it down alongside the usual shroom suspects. It took me a few days to realize that properly emulsifying this ruddy power per the suggested instructions—1 tablespoon with ¾ cup of water, battered thoroughly with the included handheld immersion blender—is an impossible task, so I started experimenting with supplemental ingredients in hopes that some blend of milk, fat, and sugar would minimize the gritty aftertaste that overwhelms the palate. I landed on 1 tablespoon of simple syrup and 4 ounces of whole milk frothed in my trusty Subminimal NanoFoamer Pro. The final result hits somewhere between a chai latte and the kind of hot cocoa you’d order at a coffee shop with boring ’90s music, mean baristas, and a dirty bin full of stale vegan + gluten-free snacks next to the register. I didn’t hate it, but the bottom quarter of the cup is an undrinkable gunky mess. And don’t get me started on the chunky brown lacing that clings to the edge of the cup. The physical and mental effects of MUD/WTR felt more like a facsimile of a boost than a visceral kick in the pants, but a placebo high is better than nothing, right? Combine that with the amount of adjunct ingredients required to make this drinkable and I ended up with a beverage I would only drink every now and then as a treat on a chilly day rather than a daily sipper I can rely on for increased focus, energy, virility, and the million other things this product promises within the wall of text that adorns its packaging.
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