"You deserve to feel amazing," her "Santa Barbara team of passionate plant people" tells its customers – and one sure way to achieve said amazingness is by paying US$28 ($39) for a pack of powdered superlatte blends, which come in chai, matcha, golden and coffee flavours.
Based near the millionaires' neighbourhood of Montecito – where the duchess lives with the Duke of Sussex and their son, Archie – the startup received a welcome boost on Monday, when chat show legend Oprah Winfrey, a guest at the royal couple's wedding in 2018, extolled the drink's tastiness to her 19 million Instagram followers.
"On the first day of Christmas my neighbour 'M' sent to me… a basket of deliciousness," she wrote beneath the video. "My new drink of choice for the morning and night. Wish I had Clevr Blends sooner cause [sic] I would've added it to my Favourite Things list."
Meghan described her investment to Fortune magazine as "support of a passionate female entrepreneur who prioritises building community alongside her business", adding that she "personally loves" the superlattes. To a cynic, Clevr Blends' promise to provide "effortless wellness" with "clean, feel good fuel," rich in "brain-boosting, mood-lifting, mind-clearing medicinals" might read like the very worst sort of Golden State mumbo jumbo. But what if there really was something in these new superlattes? We asked the experts.
"The vast majority of ingredients [used in Clevr Blend's marketing material] haven't had enough research for us to make health claims," says Sophie Medlin, director of the London-based CityDietitians. "They need to be very careful about [them]. It doesn't mean there aren't potential benefits, but there's not enough evidence at the moment to support them being able to make any formal health claims for [most] of the ingredients, apart from the vitamins D and B."
Medlin has no plans to pay £20-plus for a 14-serving pack of superlatte any time soon. "I would have a delicious bowl of porridge with lots of fruit and nuts in it [instead], and know that the things I was having were of benefit and cost me half as much," she notes.
Experts also give short shrift to the use of the word "super" in the drink's title – part of a wider marketing trend in which foods such as blueberries and kale are hailed as "superfoods". Nutritionist Rhiannon Lambert says: "There is no evidence to support the use of the term 'superfoods'. While the ingredients used may have their own beneficial nutrition, having one drink alone isn't going to have a significant impact on your health."
Medlin adds: "The term superfood, and certainly superlatte, is just a marketing term. That doesn't mean anything medically. It's the same with wellness, [which] isn't a measurable medical outcome – there are no wellness modules at medical school. When wellness doesn't really mean anything, it makes it easier for people to make claims."
A key ingredient of the superlatte is oat milk, an increasingly popular vegan alternative to cow's milk. Oat milk may be better for the environment, but it is unlikely to carry any extra health benefits, says Medlin. In fact, "the opposite – oat milk is basically just very diluted porridge. You will get some fibre, but in comparison to dairy there's very few nutrients in there that are going to be of benefit. In fact, they could make more health claims if they did include cow's milk."
Perhaps the most mysterious ingredients found in the superlattes are adaptogens – herbal medicines that, according to their marketers, are "synergistic" sidekicks to caffeine, which help the body adapt to stress, whether physical, chemical, or biological. They are said to be rooted in ancient Chinese and Ayurvedic healing traditions, although the history is murky, and the evidence seems mixed and inconclusive.
Studies are small and few in number, and those that have been carried out tend to be conducted on animals or human cell samples – rather than living, breathing people. "There is some evidence that some of these ingredients might have that effect [helping the body respond to stress], but there's just not been enough research done in enough people," says Medlin.
Undeniably interesting is the firm's use of monk fruit – which is said to contribute to the latte's earthy, tangy flavour – as a natural sweetener instead of sugar (which is linked to all manner of dastardly issues, from weight gain to tooth decay). Winfrey declared the drink "delicious", while the Telegraph's own California-based taste tester, Laurence Dodds, said it was "nice, very nice". Perhaps not a "super" latte, then, but a tasty one, nonetheless.
