Best Adaptogen Drinks and Functional Drinks of 2025: Get Clear

Sentia Spirits is a “0% ABV Alcohol Free Botanical Drink” that nonetheless promises a bit of ooh-la-la—a feeling its makers hope is pleasant enough that you won’t feel the need to back it up with a much riskier shot of whiskey. The GABA spirits from functional brand Sentia Spirits is one of few functional drinks with real science behind it, developed by a quite reputable British neuropsychopharmacologist named David Nutt, a chair at Imperial College London. Nutt has long advocated for solutions to the health scourge of alcohol abuse, but also likes the pleasing effects of a glass of wine.

Sentia is this solution, a suspension of barks and flower extracts and herbs—magnolia, ashwagandha, licorice—that are already allowed by the FDA and European agencies. Each ingredient is designed to increase the activity of a neurotransmitter called GABA, which Nutt says is responsible for that initial pleasant feeling you get after a drink or two, before more toxic or potent effects take hold. GABA is a neuroinhibitor present in pretty much all life on Earth, and it essentially tells neurons to slow their roll a bit. It makes you a little less sharp, and less on alert.

Anyway, the three Sentia flavors (red, black, and gold) can operate a bit like mixers, best drunk with soda or fruit juice. And without being intoxicating, they do manage to give you a little bit of relaxation. Drink one or two with friends, and you get an ever-so-slight buzz but precisely zero sense of intoxication: It is what Star Trek purports synthehol to be. But if you want this to be a feeling like being drunk, without the alcohol, you will be disappointed.

The original selection of GABA-enhancing spirits have since been augmented with a next generation of drinks from Sentia: a beer-a-like called Gabyr designed to mimic pale ale and stout, and a sold-out (as of November) “Cask” that's more like whiskey. We'll look forward to trying them.

Bartender tasting notes (Sentia Red): At a Philly bar, one bartender declared it “prune-juice potpourri.” Another said it smelled like a mulberry Christmas candle, but tasted closer to a mulled holiday drink. To my mind, it would lend itself best to Sangria-style fruit juice cocktails—and it's the most popular of the flavors, according to Nutt.

Functional notes: Sentia Black in particular has a slight stimulant effect. But all feel undefinably like something—a bit of relaxation, a light tinge at the edge of consciousness, a feeling of potentiality like the neural version of a sneeze that never quite comes. The effect of a single shot is short-lived, maybe 45 minutes. And it remains subtle, not strong. But it does substitute handily for the feeling of a first, but not a second, drink.

Some of us remember kava from its boomlet in the ’90s and early 2000s—a plant related to pepper whose root can be steeped into a beverage long favored in the South Pacific as a ceremonial plant and social lubricant. It’s become popular again among the wellness set, a relaxing and mostly soothing salve for anxiety or a light social buzz to substitute for alcohol. Among the packaged kava drinks on the market, Melo sparkling kava is the one I'm best able to recommend both for flavor and responsible sourcing claims.

Both of these matter. Different strains of kava (or God forbid, leaves and twigs instead of roots) have different propensities for negative side effects, and better or worse flavors. And even on a good day, kava root can taste a lot like licking mud and sticks, with a pungent bitterness that can linger like the sting of a failed marriage. Melo sources only “noble” strains of kava from family farms on the island republic of Vanuatu—strains known for more restrained and less toxic effects, and lower bitterness.

But Melo's banana cream flavor of sparkling kava, in particular, was able to mask the unpleasant potting-soil character of kava and replace it with the flavor of … banana Laffy Taffy. I'm not even a big banana candy guy, frankly, but without any sugar or calories, it manages to be the most pleasant kava drink I've encountered (a somewhat low bar, but one it hurdles with aplomb). Lime and POG flavors from Melo were less successful at masking kava's distinct muddiness, so most will detect a tasting note that Portland sommelier Sami Gaston described as “time-release fertilizer.”

The functional effects are pretty mellow, in my experience, but you'll damn well notice them, kicking in after about 30 minutes and lasting for hours. This manifested for me as a light spaciness, a little bit of muscle-relaxant couchlock, and social looseness if I'm in a group. Kava has been shown in some studies to have a therapeutic effect on anxiety. This said, some may find gastrointestinal effects more prominent, and kava has also been associated with liver toxicity when its active ingredients are consumed in doses above 250 milligrams, or sourced or extracted poorly. (A can of Melo is likely to contain anywhere from 60 to 150 milligrams.) You also don't want to drive, or consume alcohol on the same day.

Sommelier tasting notes (Banana Cream): “This is very banana Laffy Taffy. Speaking as someone who's had both banana Runts and banana Laffy Taffy, this leans more lactic … I am surprised the banana turned out to be my favorite (among kava flavors).”

Functional notes: Sensation began as a numb tingling on the mouth and tongue, akin to Sichuan pepper, followed by a slight head buzz after 30 minutes or so, and a warm physical feeling of relaxation that seems to spread from my core to my extremities and lasts for multiple hours. One can of Melo isn't overly intense, but it's present. Sleep comes easily, but I don't think I'd watch a film with too much subtext or an overly complicated plot. I didn't catch the stomach bother reported by some.