We’ve survived swicy. We’ve endured swavoury. Now, just when you thought the portmanteau well had run dry, here comes “fricy” - fruity and spicy - and it’s flying off the shelves, likely because the people who named it are the same people who brought you the word “adulting.”
At Mango Twist in Seven Sisters, London, 26-year-old Hannah is on her third visit to order the “Volcano” slushie, a take on the traditional Mexican chamoyada. “I love it,” she says, and who are we to argue with someone who has clearly made a lifestyle choice about frozen beverages? The café, opened in 2024 by Peru-born Dominic Vargas, now has four branches, because apparently London was crying out for a drink that requires you to chew your straw before slurping.
Social media, naturally, is the proud parent of “fricy,” joining the already overcrowded nursery of “swicy” and “swavoury.” Holly Thomson, food editor at online retailer Sous Chef, admits it’s “a silly word,” but notes it’s translating into sales: sales of Tajín, the lime and chilli Mexican spice blend, are up 19% year on year in 2026 so far. Waitrose reports a 30% increase in sales of its Mango Amba Sauce over the last year, and Stuart McAllister of hot sauce retailer Hot-Headz! says fricy sauces have surged in the past six to 12 months, with pineapple and mango hot sauces leading the charge.
The Volcano slushie arrives: bright yellow juice, spiralised mango, and a red chamoy sauce made from pickled fruit and chillis, with a Tajín candy-dipped straw that must be chewed before drinking. It’s visually striking enough to have been documented on TikTok and Instagram, because if you didn’t film it, did you even eat it? Mango Twist also offers the “Mangonero” (fruit salad with chamoy and tamarind) and the “Pine pop” (a massive hunk of pineapple coated in homemade chamoy) - all generously portioned and slightly terrifying to eat while wearing a white shirt.
But the flavour combination works: tropical fruit and chilli heat make it more moreish than something purely sweet, much like Vietnamese papaya and chilli salads, which have been doing fricy long before the word existed. Ethan Pack, head chef at Three Sheets in Soho, thinks the trend is part of a larger rise in South American cuisine, with more pop-ups and chefs experimenting. His friciest offerings - tomato on toast with spicy Peruvian aji verde sauce and raspberry vinegar gel, plus a raspberry and chilli margarita - are sweet without being sickly, and the fruit offers relief from the chilli.
Luke Larsson, head chef of northern Thai restaurant Khao Bird, notes that chefs have long played with fruit in savoury dishes, particularly in Thai cuisine, but “what’s changed is that diners seem much more open to those combinations and are actively looking for them.” His watermelon salad finished with phrik laab chilli powder has become popular as the weather has warmed up. As for the name “fricy”? He thinks it gives people an easy way to talk about these combinations online, and if it “encourages people to try something new, that’s no bad thing.”
Personally, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to say “fricy” without an eye roll, but if it means more fresh, spicy, exciting flavour combinations on menus this summer, I’m in favour. Just don’t expect me to order it by name.