Imagine biting into a pizza made of dreams, sprinkled with cloud bacon, and topped with cheese that sings when melted. Now imagine getting paid for rating how that tastes — without ever leaving your bed or chewing a single bite. Welcome to the surreal world of Imaginary Food Rating Apps, where your weirdest flavor fantasies can turn into real-world earnings. Yes, tasting imaginary food equals cash now, and it’s not as insane as it sounds.
In this article, I’ll dive into my experience using one of these bizarre apps, how it works, what you really earn, and why people are obsessed with rating non-existent meals like “lava-glazed unicorn ribs” and “gravitational marshmallow tacos.” And no — this isn’t a dream. It’s an actual new niche in the taste-for-cash economy, and I fully committed to it for seven days. Here’s how it went.
🍳 Chapter 1: What Even
Is
an Imaginary Food Rating App?
At first glance, it sounds like a prank. I found the app “Flavorverse” while browsing a subreddit called r/AppsThatShouldn’tExistButDo. The app description read:
“Taste the impossible. Rate fictional foods. Earn digital currency that converts to cash, NFTs, or gourmet loot boxes. No cooking. No eating. Just vibe and vote.”
In essence, these apps create fake food concepts using AI or user submissions. You get a visual + flavor description like:
Item: Interdimensional Sushi
Looks Like: A transparent roll glowing purple, with fish that swims inside itself.
Tastes Like: Sweet neon, seafoam, existential dread.
Mouthfeel: Slippery, then suddenly crunchy.
Smell: Like forgetting your birthday.
Your job? Rate it from 1 to 5 in categories like Taste, Texture, Innovation, and “Emotional Impact.” For each rating, you earn coins. 1000 coins = $1.
I immediately downloaded it.
🧪 Chapter 2: Day One — Licking the Abstract
After signing up, the app threw me into its “Taste Lab.” The first food was Butterless Buttery Croissant, and I nearly lost it laughing.
“Tastes like betrayal and wind,” the app said. I gave it a solid 4.
Each rating gave me about 15 coins. I rated 20 items that day and earned 300 coins = $0.30.
Not life-changing. But I was hooked. Why? Because it didn’t feel like work. It felt like an interactive fever dream.
🍜 Chapter 3: The Community Is Wild
By day three, I joined the app’s Discord server. Turns out, people are taking imaginary foods very seriously. There are Flavor Debates, AI-generated taste battles, and even a fake Michelin guide ranking top-rated fictional meals.
One guy even claimed he was training to become a “Flavor Oracle” — someone who predicts trends in food hallucinations.
I also discovered some users submit their own made-up dishes for others to rate. Submitting unlocks Bonus FlavCoins if your dish goes viral.
My submission? Apocalyptic Nachos:
“Crispy tortilla shrapnel topped with nuclear cheese goo and smoky regret salsa.”
It got over 400 ratings. I earned 1200 coins from that in a day = $1.20.
Still small money. But the psychological value? Priceless.
🎭 Chapter 4: Why Is This a Thing?
You might wonder: why would anyone pay people to rate imaginary food?
Here’s where it gets weirdly logical.
- Gamified Data Collection:
The companies behind these apps sell anonymized behavioral data. Your taste preferences — even imaginary ones — help train food AIs and marketing models. - Creative Market Testing:
Some flavor descriptions are actually real R&D concepts in disguise. A food tech startup might want to know if “smoky banana ketchup” is a hit before producing it. - Entertainment Economy:
It’s like a game. And games that entertain are monetizable. Ads, microtransactions, and branded fake foods (yes, “MetaMcDonald’s” had a collab) all play a role. - NFTs + Digital Collectibles:
Highly-rated foods become limited-edition cards you can collect or sell on Flavorverse’s NFT marketplace.
So yeah — fake food = real income. And it’s just starting.
🍮 Chapter 5: Taste Training and Leveling Up
Flavorverse has levels. The more you rate, the more advanced your “Taste Rank” becomes. At level 10, you unlock “Blind Bite Mode” — where you rate only the description without seeing an image.
At level 15, you’re allowed to judge food “emotionally,” giving ratings on how a dish would taste during a breakup or after winning the lottery.
Level 20? You become eligible for sponsored hallucinations, where companies pay extra to see how Gen Z might react to a “Bleeding Bubble Tea Donut.”
I reached level 11 by the end of the week. Total earnings? $9.35.
🧁 Chapter 6: Imaginary vs Real — The Taste Disconnect
What struck me most was how vivid these imaginary foods were in my brain. The descriptions were so absurd and poetic that I could feel the texture in my mouth.
And the weirdest part? My brain started craving them.
On day six, I legit dreamed of Molten Lava Gelato with Regret Caramel Swirl. I woke up disappointed it didn’t exist.
It made me realize — taste isn’t just physical. It’s psychological, cultural, and emotional. These apps tap into that deep, often irrational, part of the brain.
And that, my friend, is a market worth billions.
🍔 Chapter 7: My Top 5 Imaginary Foods (And Their Weird Ratings)
- Quantum Burrito (4.5/5):
Changes flavor mid-bite. The aftertaste was “memories of summer camp.” I cried a little. - Lunar Cheese Omelette (3/5):
Looked great, but tasted like “dusty optimism.” Points for effort. - Revenge Soup (5/5):
Served cold. You feel angry and satisfied at the same time. Iconic. - Frog-Scented Donut (2/5):
Smelled better than it tasted. Texture like regret. - Binary Ramen (4/5):
You taste only 1s and 0s, but somehow it works. The crunch of existential code.
📱 Chapter 8: Other Apps Like Flavorverse
If you think this is a one-app phenomenon — think again. After researching deeper, I found a whole ecosystem of similar platforms:
- TasteFi: Offers crypto rewards for rating interdimensional snacks.
- FictiFood: Focuses on crowdsourcing taste notes for future sci-fi and fantasy novels.
- MoodBite: Matches foods with emotions; you rate whether “Joy Cake” really delivers.
Some even offer voice-tasting, where you hum what the flavor would sound like.
Yes. That’s real.
🧠 Chapter 9: The Psychology Behind It
This entire industry hinges on imaginative synesthesia — the brain’s ability to associate non-taste stimuli with taste.
It’s part dream, part dopamine loop. You feel smart, quirky, and creatively fulfilled — all while earning tiny but real money.
Also, people are starved for absurdity. In a world of doomscrolling, rating a fake mushroom that whispers secrets feels like joyful rebellion.
💡 Chapter 10: Could This Become a Real Job?
Let’s not sugarcoat it (unless it’s SugarCoat Pie): you won’t get rich doing this.
BUT — imagine this: you’re a writer, designer, or food marketer. These apps could become a portfolio of your taste imagination. Imagine saying in an interview:
“I was a Top 1% Emotional Flavor Judge on Flavorverse. My fictional lasagna had over 20,000 ratings.”
Weird? Yes.
Memorable? Definitely.
Employable? Maybe more than you’d think.
🏁 Final Verdict After 7 Days
I made $9.35, created 6 fake foods, and rated over 130 items. I laughed more than I have in months, met strangers who argue about ghost spice, and even found someone who’s building a restaurant menu for imaginary diners.
And yeah — I’d do it again.
Why?
Because in a world of hyper-productivity, it feels deliciously pointless. And sometimes, being pointlessly joyful is worth more than a paycheck.
But if you can have both? Even better.
✅ Sources
- Flavorverse App (v2.1.4) — Official Site: www.flavorverse.app
- r/AppsThatShouldn’tExistButDo — Reddit Discussion Thread
- “Imaginary Taste Economies: The Next Frontier?” — TechTaste Journal, 2025
- MoodBite App Overview — AppBrain Review, July 2025
- “Synesthetic Marketing and Flavor Imagination” — Journal of Cognitive Food Studies, Vol. 12
- Interview with user @FlavorOracle, Discord Community AMA (July 2025)
- FictiFood Marketplace Whitepaper (Q2, 2025)
Written by the author, Fatima Al-Hajri 👩🏻💻
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