A Very British, Very Fizzy Ribena Review of the SodaStream
If your idea of a perfect drink is “Ribena, but it’s got a bit of a kick,” then congratulations: you’ve found your soulmate appliance. The SodaStream is basically a posh fizzy-water machine that I’ve turned into a Ribena-fizzing station, and honestly, it’s the most satisfying thing I’ve done since discovering you can microwave a pasty.
The Machine: Part Appliance, Part Personality: The SodaStream itself looks like it was designed by someone who really likes minimalism and really dislikes washing up. It’s compact, sits neatly on the counter, and makes a noise like a very polite dragon when you carbonate water.
- Build quality: Feels sturdy enough, though some reviews say the button can be a bit flimsy on certain models. Mine hasn’t complained yet, possibly because it knows I’d replace it with a kettle if it did.
- Ease of use: Fill bottle to the line, click it in, press the button/lever, wait for the hiss, add Ribena. Even after a long day, I can operate it without reading the manual again.
- Fizz control: You can go from “lightly breezy” to “aggressively sparkling” depending on how many times you press. For Ribena, I aim for “enthusiastic but not explosive,” because I’ve learned the hard way that over-carbonated syrup = kitchen volcano.
It’s basically a countertop science experiment where the only variable is “how much Ribena do I feel like today?”
The Canisters: The Real Commitment: The CO₂ canisters are where the relationship gets serious. You buy one, it lasts ages, and then one day it just… stops. Like a friendship that ends because someone moved to Milton Keynes.
- Lifespan: A standard canister is supposed to do around 60–80 litres of fizzy water, depending on how gassy you like it.
- Cost anxiety: Every time you hear that hiss getting weaker, a small voice in your head whispers, “That’s money literally escaping into the air. ” Then you remember you’re no longer buying plastic bottles and feel virtuous again.
- Refill/exchange: In the UK you can swap empties at various shops or order exchanges online. It’s a very adult version of returning library books, except the penalty for late return is “no more fizzy Ribena. ”
Pro tip: keep the canister cold and use cold water. CO₂ dissolves better in cold liquid, so your Ribena gets fizzier with less gas and less “why is this hissing like an angry cat?” energy.
The Ribena Factor: Where It All Comes Together: Officially, SodaStream says: “Only carbonate water. ” Unofficially, the internet and my kitchen say: “Yes, but have you tried fizzy Ribena?”
My method, refined over many slightly sticky experiments:
1. Fill the SodaStream bottle with cold water to the line.
2. Carbonate to “properly fizzy” level (I usually do 3–4 short bursts).
3. Pour out a bit of the fizzy water to make space.
4. Add Ribena concentrate down the side of the bottle, slowly, like you’re defusing a
5. Gently swirl. Do not shake. Shaking is how you learn what “Ribena geyser” means.
The result is basically a blackcurrant party in your mouth, with bubbles that make it feel fancier than it has any right to be. It’s the drink equivalent of putting on a blazer for a Zoom call.
The Verdict (With Ribena Goggles On)
- As a plain sparkling-water machine: It does the job, though some reviewers find the fizz a bit weak on certain models and the refills pricey over time.
- As a dedicated Fizzy Ribena Delivery System: Absolute game-changer. It turns a humble cordial into something that feels like it should be served in a fancy glass with a slice of something citrus and a backstory.
If your main use is fizzy Ribena, the SodaStream is less “kitchen gadget” and more “personal blackcurrant sommelier. ” Just respect the fill line, add syrup after carbonation, and never, ever try to carbonate the Ribena directly. Your machine, and your ceiling will thank you.