Cracking open the can released a hiss, followed by a faint smell of very cheap lollies that seemed to waft from the drink to the centre of our nasal cavity in a timeframe of about a second. Certain that others in the room might become distracted by this, we got around to drinking and took a sip. Surprisingly it wasn't so bad, with a smooth enough consistency and a moderate carbonation. That is, until swallowing.
We've said that other drinks are cloying before, which is essentially the feeling that an unwelcome visitor has taken residence in your throat who feels the irrepressible need to rub salt into their new home's walls, while causing the excess production of phlegm. Red Bull Sugarfree makes the other drinks look like a pleasant holiday - producing an effect similar to licking a sticky caramel treat, stolen from someone else's armpit. The mere act of swallowing the drink became harder and harder the more we drank, and matters were made all the more worse when the drink heated up to room temperature - seemingly much faster than a liquid should.
However unpleasant the texture of Sugarfree Red Bull is, the taste isn't too offensive. It's roughly a mix between caramel topping and the I/O panel of your favourite case, though the former is very weak and the latter has been smeared with traces of vegemite. Disappointingly, we did notice a slight caffeiney buzz from finishing the can, but without the usual alertness that comes - we suspect - from the missing teaspoons of sugar that are usually present. Sure you're getting almost no carbs out of the drink, but you're making a huge sacrifice on both flavour and fun.
We paid $3.05 for this can of Red Bull, which is a pretty standard inner-city price, but it's awful value compared to a can of V. If you're on an ultra no-calorie diet and have sacrificed sugar, meat, bread, your soul, your firstborn child and coffee, then Red Bull Sugarfree might be appealing to you. For us though, we're off to find some sugar.
Check out some shots of the can in the gallery of pics.
Issue: 137 | June, 2012