Sweet Release

So, first off, that comparison price beneath the picture? It’s actually real. We’re not pulling the old infomercial trick of putting up an inflated MSRP just to pretend we’re heroes for cutting it way down. Seriously, this stuff’s usually really friggin’ expensive.

Now, onto the real question: what exactly is this stuff?

Short answer: it’s a plant-based supplement that cuts down your sugar cravings by making sweet stuff taste bad.

And how does it do that? By using Gymnema sylvestre, a leafy vine that surpasses the taste of sweetness. Here’s a breakdown of the science from a q&a on goop:

Sweet Defeat contains gymnemic acids, extracted from the woody vine Gymnema sylvestre, which suppress the taste of sweetness from sugars and sugar substitutes. Because the structure of gymnemic acid molecules is similar to that of glucose molecules, gymnema binds to sweet taste receptors on the tongue, blocking the taste of sugar molecules and preventing the firing of the chorda tympani nerve, which relays taste signaling to the brain.

Or, to put it in basic terms: when you eat sweet stuff, you naturally want to eat more sweet stuff. But if you eat sweet stuff and it doesn’t taste sweet, you’re likely not going to go back for another serving. At least that’s what they found in a double-blind placebo-controlled experiment: those given real-deal Sweet Defeat saw their candy intake drop by about 44%. (Again, this info is on goop, but it is from an actual experiment conducted by neuroscientist Eric Stice, PhD.)

But what is it actually like to taste sugar post Sweet Defeat? Linnea Zielinski writes about that for Metro:

With your taste receptors essentially turned off, you’re left with just the texture of whatever you’re eating. I tried eating some fruit (like chewing on styrofoam), munching on some candy (gummies were like trying to eat wax) and taking a swig of a drink sweetened with artificial sweeteners. My taste receptors weren’t tricked by the chemicals. There was no sweetness.

Cool. So it seems to actually work.

But there are some downsides. Again, we go to Zielinski, this time for a description of how the lozenge tastes:

I was expecting the equivalent to a sugar-free peppermint candy. Please don’t go in with that same assumption. While the tiny white pills do look a little like Altoids when you take them out of their individual packets, the peppermint flavor lasts about 10 to 15 seconds. It’s pleasant, although not that strong. When you’re through this thin peppermint coating, what you’re left with is a pretty bitter little pill. I don’t think I managed to let any of them actually dissolve on my tongue […] I would withstand the bitter flavor as long as I could — which is a medicinal bitterness, not the bitter flavor in your morning coffee — before chewing up the rest.

And furthermore, there’s the dilemma of: do I really want to mess with my tastebuds just to cut sweets? No, the effect isn’t permanent, and this stuff isn’t an actual appetite suppressor. And sure, not wanting to go back for handful after handful of M&Ms until the entire family-sized bag is gone might leave you with a bit less tummy trouble. But still, as VeryWell Fit aptly puts it:

Food enjoyment is part of the human experience, and embracing this form of pleasure can have its own effects on both physical and mental health.

Which is all to say: this might not be for everyone. But if you’ve been interested in giving something like this a try, only to be scared off by a hefty price tag, well, we’ve got you covered.