Pretty much any experience can be improved by the prior consumption of pills. Eating is no exception—“miracle fruit tablets,” made with extracts from a unique West African berry, can bring about an elevated food experience. As its name suggests, this miracle fruit possesses a miraculous property: it temporarily alters your taste buds, turning sour foods sweet.

When describing the wonders of miracle fruit to the uninitiated, I’ve often been met with raised eyebrows and dubious looks. Many people haven’t heard of these peculiar pills, so they immediately assume that miracle fruit is obscure (and therefore dodgy and untested), the kind of gimmicky product you might find at a flea market in a vial nestled in between knockoff watches and vaguely Asiatic-looking animal figurines.

“You mean to say that you plan on popping pills you bought on the Internet?” they exclaim in disbelief.

But miracle fruit isn’t nearly as sketchy as it seems. It’s actually quite well known in geekier circles. Internet veterans may have seen it featured on sites like ThinkGeek or mentioned in those perennially reposted “cool stuff you can buy for cheap on Amazon” Reddit threads. Even The New York Times ran a piece detailing the “flavor-tripping” parties that it has inspired among certain New York City bohemians.

Many a wary folk assume that miracle fruit is psychoactive, but in actuality, its effects are localized to the mouth. It contains the chemical miraculin, which binds to sweetness receptors on the tongue as you let the tablet dissolve in your mouth. When in contact with acid from sour food, the miraculin molecule temporarily changes shape, stimulating the receptor it clings to. Effects wear off after an hour—faster if you consume hot beverages during that time. It has no known side effects, so feel free to flavor trip with abandon.

Food Editor Jess Zalph and I tried miracle fruit for the first time last weekend. After consuming one tablet each, we nibbled at various fruits (mostly citrus), including a lemon, lime, kiwi, grapefruit, and tomato, with some Sour Patch Kids thrown in for good measure.

Results were more or less consistent across all the fruits—lemon tasted milder and sweeter, somewhat like concentrated lemonade. Grapefruit lost its tartness, and lime slices became munchable sweets. In simply flavored foods like fruits, the sourness disappears without significantly affecting flavor.

I’ve heard anecdotal reports that foods with complex flavors—beer, for example—change in more fundamental and unpredictable ways. Sadly, Weshop was all out of beer when I stopped by. You’ll have to try that particular experiment yourself. But even if you don’t, flavor tripping is the most fun form of tripping to be had at Wesleyan (sort of).