I Made Microdose Capsules with Magic Truffles in an Amsterdam Classroom
For a legal psychedelic trial
The anticipation in the air was as palpable as the stench of weed, sitting in the basement of the Kokopelli coffeeshop in Amsterdam’s Red Light District.
‘In the U.S, this experiment would have been very difficult to conduct,’ our host told us, her face a serious silhouette against the projected slide show on the wall.
‘You would have all had to be in the hospital for six hours under supervision, which would have been really expensive for a study of 80 people, and it probably would have affected your mood, too. Hospitals tend to do that.’
A legal magic truffles trial — yes please
We were gathering to stuff our own capsules with psychedelic magic truffles ahead of an official microdose trial in The Netherlands.
I’ve been pumped to be a part of this for a while, not least because making my own without supervision landed me in a not-so-enviable position, tripping balls in a job interview.
The very first series of a double-blind placebo controlled longitudinal psilocybin microdosing studies in the world is serious business, not least to Amsterdam’s Psychedelic Society, who’ve been planning this along with the university for months.
‘We’re so lucky to live here and conduct this in a place where it’s legal,’ our Dutch host reminded us. She’s not wrong. In most places, this would never be allowed.
It was a… shall we call it eclectic mix of men and women in the basement, all preparing to devote their minds and psyches to science for the next eight weeks.
At a guess, I’d say the age range was early-20s to late-40s, from a broad mix of social backgrounds. One woman in a pink crocheted top was looking nervous beside me, raking her hands through thick black hair.
‘I’ve never done any psychedelics before,’ she whispered. ‘Have you?’
‘A couple of times,’ I admitted, before informing her a microdose would probably just make her a bit happier, that’s all.
What do you know, said her sad eyes.
It’s true, I guess, what do I know really? We’re all here to see how magic truffles make us feel when we’re on them, because it’s likely we won’t all feel the same. That’s what makes this trial so interesting. I think at this point, I’m most interested to see if I’ll be able to tell what’s the real dose, and what’s not.
‘Only one person in this whole room knows which doses you’ll get to take home at the end of the night,’ our host explained. ‘Will they be real, or will they be the placebos? We’ll tell you at the end of the trial.’
Stuffing magic truffles into capsules is hard work
A Powerpoint slideshow on the topic of microdosing was dutifully displayed. Then it was time to get stuffing. I found myself at the back of the room, by the floor-to-ceiling window. We were right on the canal.
The Red Light District cast its dizzying scarlet reflections on the water, adding an element of illicit sin to the situation as I chatted with some international university students.
‘This is so cool,’ a big-haired, big-personality type called Kayli from Portugal enthused. She was busy snapping endless photos on her phone, while scissors, weighing scales and latex gloves were distributed along with plastic cups, bulging with magic truffles.
‘Do you think we can eat some as we go?’
‘I think there’s enough here,’ a guy called Matt from the UK said, fingering tiny pieces of magic truffles with intent. His sandy floppy hair, chiselled jawline and tight white sleeveless shirt was the kind of boy-band perfection I would have idolised roughly 20 years ago. I half expected him to stand up and sing a song.
‘Do your parents all know you’re doing this?,’ I asked them both out of interest.
‘Yeah, my dad knows what I’m doing,’ Matt said, shrugging. ‘We smoked a big spliff together when he came to visit me here. He thinks it’s all great.’
‘My dad doesn’t know yet, nor does my mum, but it’s Amsterdam, I think they expect it,’ Kayli followed. ‘What about yours?’
My own parents were around for stuff like this Cold War era anti-drug film, hammering home the point that if you so much as smoke marijuana, you are destined to become a heroin addict.
They likely formed the opinion, like most of the world, that drugs were bad.
Very bad.
But it’s different now. There’s heaps to prove that some “drugs” — particularly psychedelics — can be good.
Also, when you explain the trial you’re participating in is for science, it does tend to pacify a situation that might otherwise raise alarm.
‘We go to a psy-trance night in a church sometimes,’ Kayli chirped, as we set about chopping the magic truffles into tiny bits. This was so they could be placed into a dehydrating machine. We have to work with dried truffles you see, otherwise they won’t last long enough in the capsules to stay effective.
She searched for a Facebook event on her phone called TRANCE ORIENT EXPRESS SPECIAL: PSYCHEDELIC TECHNO NIGHT. All in caps, just like that.
‘You should come with us,’ she offered, tossing her hair over her shoulders as she zoomed in on a photo. ‘Everyone’s tripping. Always. Look.’
I studied the sea of arms waving in the air, a red-lit altar, and lasers sending psychedelic swirls across stained glass windows. I could already see myself running around the flickering hellhole of religious persuasion in a panic, trying to get the fuck out.
An ex of mine back in college, when I was 18, had a bad LSD trip at a club night in a church. He said all his friends became red demons and he swore they were going to tell his mother he’d taken drugs.
Interestingly all of these students claim to have been profoundly changed by experimenting with drugs, and not one of them has ever had a bad trip.
With the chunky magic truffle specimens in the dryers, we were all handed questionnaires to fill in. It was meant to be sent to our phones, but mine didn’t arrive to my email account, so I was handed a bundle of A4 paper comprising six or seven pages of woefully obscure questions:
- Thinking about my thoughts makes me more confused. Do I mildly agree, strongly agree, sort of disagree, or strongly disagree?
- I’m often confused about the way I really feel about things. Do I mildly agree, strongly agree, sort of disagree, or strongly disagree?
- I’m often aware that I’m having a feeling but I don’t quite know what it is. Do I mildly agree, strongly agree, sort of disagree, or strongly disagree?
- I often experience things as if they’re doubly real. Do I mildly agree, strongly agree, sort of disagree, or strongly disagree?
It seems whatever answers we give will determine what kind of people we are ahead of the study. The researchers can track if our answers vary once we start consuming the microdoses.
Weighing up the magic tuffles
Once the tiny truffle bits were fully dried and crunchy, they were returned to us along with bowls of empty, dissolvable capsules. Now it was time to weigh 0.35 grams on the tiny scales and use the scissors to cut the chunks into more manageable portions of magic.
‘Don’t cut them too much,’ our host warned. ‘Remember, every time you cut into them, you are changing the dose of psilocybin. We want the pieces to stay as intact as possible.’
Stuffing those capsules was the most stressful thing I’ve done all bloody week. It was like trying to stuff tomato puree back into its tube, with an overwhelming sense of guilt and betrayal every time a bit fell loose to the floor.
Measuring 0.35 grams was easy enough, but filling and securing those capsules was another matter — some of mine were so bulky they broke and I had to start all over again.
‘Now I know why they got us to do this,’ Matt grumbled, scrunching up his boy-band face next to me. ‘It would have taken the team years to do this themselves.’
As well as the fact that making 80 batches of 14 hand-stuffed capsules would take about a month if one or two people attempted it on their own, I’m pretty sure there’s some kind of legal reason why we had to do this ourselves, too.
You can’t tamper with magic truffles, as we were doing by drying them; not unless you’re planning to consume them yourself. And Matt was consuming a lot, himself.
I have a date after this,’ he informed us at one point, grinning as he popped another sizeable chunk of ‘leftovers’ into his mouth. ‘I probably won’t tell her about this.’
I assumed she’d probably be able to guess, before too long. His pupils were already dilated. ‘Where are you going?,’ I asked him.
‘Some coffeeshop, we’ll probably just smoke a joint or three.’
‘On top of the magic truffles?’
‘Yup.’
The bravado! The enviable confidence from a man in his prime, certain that any woman can be his, no matter how addled his mind may be by psychedelic fungi.
I myself was planning to go straight home for some solo Netflix time. I found myself wondering how Our Planet would look on high definition, whilst high on leftover magic truffles. Whether my couch might turn into David Attenborough and tell me how to save the world.
The process of microdosing magic truffles
The 14 capsules we each made tonight will be enough for our first round of doses. These will last three weeks with a break of two full days between each dose.
After that we get a break of two weeks with no magic beans at all.
After that, we take the second batch of 14 capsules over another three weeks. Like the host said, we won’t know when we’re on the real ones and when we’re on the placebos… it will all be revealed as we go.
We must attend four tests at the uni campus throughout the experiment. On those four separate days we’re not supposed to smoke, or drink caffeine or alcohol, and neither can we take any other psychoactive substances or medications.
What we can do is track our moods, our creativity levels, our ability to empathise with people, our ability to be present and come from a place of acceptance rather than judgment or anger, or fear. The last of which is not always easy when you’re not allowed caffeine in the morning.
Armed with my bag of magical capsules, illegal in so many places, but not here, I wished my new buddies well (especially Matt, but no judgement here, a trippy date is better than a trippy job interview) and set off into the night.
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