I opened this product at the breakfast table. My first whiff felt so familiar, but I couldn't identify it immediately. It was fruity, but synthetically fruity, like corner store sugar rush candy. A few more inhales and I was able to place the fragrance: it was a dead ringer for watermelon Jolly Ranchers, AKA the sweet perfume of capricious youth and impending dental bills. The olfactory nostalgia hooked me in before I even put the candy in my mouth. The texture was firm, like Haribo-bear-firm, which is my benchmark for gummy firmness. It held its shape while I savored its taste on my tongue, and it bounced between my jaws with the perfect amount of bouncy resistance. It left no sticky residue between my teeth, but the suggestion of watermelon candy lingered pleasantly in my mouth for a while. This was a decidedly auspicious start.

In the hour and a half before the candy activated, I must have had three whole cups of coffee. I was on that good-good caffeine buzz—not too charged up, but bright, alert, and anxious to tackle the day. As the edible’s onset blossomed, it began working in clear concert with the coffee high, tempering the jitters and keeping my focus smooth and clean. The head high was a patchwork of chill, contemplative vibes and mellow euphoria bolstered by the brassy motivation of an entire French press of coffee. The body high was a soothing buzz, like a purring cat or a vibrating massage chair, but again, the underlying perk was commensurate to the overlying chill. The body and head highs didn't cancel each other out, they created harmony.

As the high developed, it became more lush and introspective. About three hours after activation, I switched gears to maximize the coffee’s plateau and the edible’s chilly, almost melancholy climax. I went to the beach and stared into the ocean while I ate tacos from a stand just beyond the pier. It was sublime.

Valhalla’s line of gummies are cleverly organized. Each of their flagship flavors come in either sativa, indica, or CBD varieties. The watermelon-flavored indica variety I tried contained an incredibly smooth 10mg of THC, with each package containing 10 gummies. Valhalla’s process is thoughtful, with environmental and biological impacts considered at every step of production. It seems they’ve thought of everything from their “FDA food-grade silicone molds free from BPA, PVC, phthalates, latex, and heavy metals,” to their use of kosher gelatin, whose alleged benefits include “improved metabolism, healthier and more beautiful skin, and healthy joints via reduced inflammation.”

My ratings of Valhalla's Sour Watermelon Gummies were staggered by a long day of driving from Los Angeles to Portland. The morning after I arrived in Oregon I was feeling very depressed. My first thought upon waking was, Fuck, two days ago I was on a beach eating tacos, and today I’m wearing two pairs of pants so my thighs don’t freeze together. Cue heavy sobs.

“I was able to enjoy an entire day I first anticipated to be a total loss.”

So, once again, I started my day with a gummy that promised sleep. When it activated, I felt free from the weight of my trip to LA. All of the biting negativity that had been pecking at me since I crossed the state line just kind of evaporated. Herein I found another surprising perk of the edible: emotional processing and easy communication. I sat with my partner and kiddo for hours, able to fully enjoy being back in my own home without erasing the weight of the trip I’d just returned from. I was able to enjoy an entire day I first anticipated to be a total loss. And even as the high tapered off, roughly four hours later, the nagging gloom of my depression remained too wispy to fog my contentment.

I am a contrary brat. I know this about myself. But if I would have taken these gummies as suggested, as an aid to sleep, I would have missed out on the most perfect beach taco afternoon as well as a warm, loving opportunity to process my telenovela level of emotionality. I mean, I can fall asleep on my own and I can process feels on my own, but without Valhalla’s Sour Watermelon Gummy, I’m not sure those tacos would have tasted as perfect or that depression would have been so effectively snuffed.