I love soda.  I always have, and I always will.  I drink entirely too much of it, and someday, I’m sure, it will kill me.  So that is why every once in a while I like to cleanse the part of my body that has turned to high fructose corn syrup with some things that sound like they existed, at one point, out of doors.  Just a good cleaning out of the temple.  Although my temple is less like the Cathedral of Notre Dame and more like a Walmart converted into a church.  (Sadly that is a real place, within two miles of my home.  I call it The Vortex of Real America.)

So what are my purifying agents this week?

Carbonated water.  Willamette valley raspberries. Cane sugar.  Organic lemon juice.

Four ingredients. How simple and wonderful is that?  This couldn’t be farther removed from the soulless, chemical frappes I usually imbibe! My love affair with HOTLIPS Soda continues.

HOTLIPS Raspberry Soda is made by some nice people in Portland, Oregon.  As with their Pear Soda, Raspberry is simply delicious.  It’s light and fruity. The tartness of the raspberry is bright and refreshing, and is complimented nicely by just the right amount of cane sugar sweetness. 

If you drink straight out of the brown glass bottles, then you might not notice my favorite part: the cloudiness.  Fill a tall clear glass and wonder at the marvels of a cloudy, pulp-specked soda.  I didn’t even know that soda cloudiness was a thing I could love.  But it is!  There’s actual fruit in there!  Fruit! That stuff that grows on trees.  No that’s Spanish moss.  I mean the brightly colored things. 

I’ve been slow-slipping these sodas on the porch.  You know, to get in touch with my early 20th century self (been thinking about getting myself some of that reform).  But the drinks are lightly carbonated, and they’ve been flattening out on me before I finish them.  Really that’s my fault.  I guess I could just drink them faster, but where’s the fun in that? My thoughts aren’t going to ponder themselves, now are they?  More carbonation might overpower the fruit flavors, though, and I don’t want that.  So I guess I’ll just increase my speed of consumption.

And finally my cutting edge breakthrough in food review vocabulation!

The first thing I’ve been doing when I pop the top from one of my HOTLIPS Soda bottles is burying my nose in the top and inhaling deeply.  I’ve always liked the word “mouthfeel” in food reviews.  Gourmet food bloggers love this word.  Personally I think it’s a wee bit pretentious, but in a fun way.  So that is why I am coining a new term for the interwebs today: “nosegrope.”  That’s right.  Nosegrope.  Bloggers, you’re welcome.  Some people might say, “Hey, isn’t that just another word for smell or aroma?”  To those naysayers, I say, “Shutup.”

The nosegrope of this soda is gorgeous.  Like a raspberry explosion.  It’s what I imagine hot, professional office women smell like.  I’ve never worked in one of those offices before, so if this is not the case, please don’t ruin the illusion.  It’s all I have left.  Sigh.

Buy this soda.  It’s delightful.