The tiny muffins filled the room with the sweet smell of Mary the second the packaging was ripped open, but the wonderful ganja journey was far from over. Though the ganja smell was strong, the marijuana didn't overpower the tastebuds, instead giving the limelight to the tangy lemon flavor that teased the tongue with citrus.
In the end, they're just little poppyseed muffins, so an orchestra of serenading tastes isn't on the menu. Yet I would be happy to munch on a big batch of these treats, medicated or not, the next time some homemade potato soup is brewing in the kitchen.
The one disadvantage to this treat is the temptation to eat the entire contents of the package (if you can call that a disadvantage). After eating one muffin -- the recommendation being half that -- I wasn't sure if I should be expecting a nice, long edibles nap or a dud. In less than an hour, I was thrown into a ridiculous giggle fit for what seemed like no reason. After I stopped laughing, I realized, "Damn, I'm freaking high right now."
Unlike many edibles that teeter between leaving you too high or not high enough, Dr. J's found the perfect balance with these muffins. They left me with a nice float-through-the-day high.
Aside from making a virtual THC bomb pastry, Dr. J's also has the distinction of being the first medical marijuana business in Denver to get both city and state licensing. So far, the company has limited its hash-infusion craft to muffins and cookies that average about $10 retail in most shops. But its website states that the good Doctor will "shake things up" and be delighting customers with a new line of chocolates soon.
Whatever you decide to buy, the muffin lives up to Dr. J's goal of "producing the safest, highest quality, most consistently potent hash infusion based medicinal edibles."
More from our Mile Highs and Lows archive: "Welcome Sensi Skywalker, Westword's first medical marijuana intern."
