gone bad

The condiments were the last to go and the fridge would be empty. The furniture was taken. Boxes had been left curbside for pick-up. Jars of dark jam from seasons past were pitched. Only a few bottles clinked together when the door pulled open. There was an odd smell, a sweetness like over ripe bananas, and the appliance light no longer went on.
"Hey, look at this." The tallest bottle was in his hand as he read the label.
"Original and genuine. Aged 18 months. Brings food alive! There's no
expiry date. What is it?"
His partner was trembling.