Gross Food Week #3: Jeff's Chocolate Soda

Guys, I just discovered instagram. And you know what else I discovered? Jeff's Chocolate Soda. And you know what else I just discovered, today? The futility of mankind and the heartbreaking realization that we're all doomed, man, you know? Probably as a result of this soda's existence. All three are connected. Come, let's take a journey.
Jeff's Chocolate Soda, found in a Stop and Stop but easily purchased at www.getcreamed.net, the only non-porn website on the planet with an extremely porn-like name, is the end of mankind. Nowhere else can a label entice you with 50's style clip art graphics and brutally pervert you with a singular message. Get creamed. And by all means, the package warns you, do not shake this beverage. Why that is is not explicitly stated, but I think we can all figure out the rest.
The chocolate soda is 97% fat free and 99% flavor free, too, and allows you to get your daily recommended value of authentic Tootsie Roll flavor without compromising your lack of dignity. The soda smells like marshmallow cream and is a little salty, a scent that, combined with its visual euphemisms, makes this feel like an episode of dirty Blue's Clues. Luckily, this off scent disappears quickly after opening the bottle and does not translate to the drink's flavor. It has a thick texture that straddles a line between saliva and whipping cream- not quite solid, but nearing dangerous levels of mucus. It comes out of the bottle matte brown with a few runny bubbles on its surface. It's not a very appealing beverage for this and many other reasons.
I will give it this; for a soda containing one gram of fat, it certainly packs an enjoyable and authentic Dutch chocolate flavor. It is fair, simple, and immediately chocolatey- again, much like a Tootsie Roll. That's presumably also where the 48 grams of sugar (per 12 ounces) come in. With a soda like that, who needs enemies? This is a scant 5 grams of sugar away from beating out Sunkist as the world's worst soda, according to Men's Health. If poor Paula Deen wasn't already diagnosed with Type II Diabetes, one or two of these would have easily done the trick.
Unfortunately, I can't say I'm impressed. This soda's future is bleak if the company thinks it can ride with the big boys successfully on sugar and catcalls alone. For the sake of my health and my sense of humor, Miss Love and I will be sticking with something lighter and will likely find a more satisfying way to get creamed without all that fluff.

Marley's Mellow Mood Relaxation Drink

Believe it or not, this drink wasn't created or endorsed by John Grogan's loveable yellow laborador. I know, I was disappointed, too. For those of you who are into Marley, though, the Bob one, this drink might come as a pleasant surprise. Marley's Mellow Mood Relaxation boasts yet another way to get your sleep on. Because nothing relaxes you like a tie-dyed assault of colors, and 29 grams of sugar per can, right? Jah, mon, and that's all you'll hear from me.
The can boasts a lofty goal of considering this a dietary supplement, like a Flintstones multi-vitamin. While I'm sure there's at least one person out there who is actively making this a part of their day-to-day routine, the vast majority of you can stop holding your breath. There are better relaxation supplements out there, and I doubt any of them taste like home-fermented fruit leather. The drink says it's berry flavored, but tastes more like berries that have been sun-dried with every intent of being made into macro granola but were sadly forgotten in a head shop for a few months. There's a raisiny note to this, and it's fairly strong, persistent flavor that lingers throughout each sip. I'm no stranger to slightly medicinal flavors in energy or relaxation drinks, but this gave the beverage a synthetic and creepy edge that inspired me to go through my Stranger Danger checklist one more time. It tastes like bottled mall incense, the kind that comes packaged with a free angry warrior statue.
It's lightly carbonated and has a watery, floral flavor with a medicinal bite against the fermented berries scent, but holds very little appeal for me as it lacks the fresh flavors of most fruit-flavored sodas. Its flavor does mirror its mission statement in that it is a fairly murky, lazy soda, but unfortunately, that translates to a dismal drink. Color me affected by my own childhood, but drinking it left me with unpleasant memories of taking cherry Robutussin when I was sick. I immediately regretted the two sips I took, as I wasn't so much relaxed as I was sluggish after trying a little of this and aching from the sugar. Every time you drink this beverage, a dentist earns a $20,000 bonus. This might work if you've had a tough day playing Ultimate and need a break, but nevermore, Tuff Gong, nevermore. I may have got the beverage, but I didn't get no ecstasy, not in the slightest.

blk. water

"I just don't understand Christmas, I guess. I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I'm still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed." -Charlie Brown

And now, the deep, deep funk sets in. As if you put on a pair of magic glasses, what was once a merry nip in the air is now just freaking cold. The cheerful Salvation Army ringers are now just haranguing you, and the capacity you had to inhale all manner of toothpicked appetizers, cookies, and roast meats is now reflected in your time spent hovering over the treadmill. Christmas is over.
But there's more to come. I mean, hell, today is Boxing Day, which is just perfect if you waited until the day after Christmas to get a deal on a gift for your hired help. The Treaty of Pressburg was signed today in 1805. Put down that spiked egg nog, you have a lot to look forward to. Also, I'm pretty sure that's curdling, so don't drink it. Why is today an awesome day? Aside from the strangely hush-hush day off for federal employees, which you can thank the Uniform Monday Act for, I'm talking about blk water, the latest and greatest libation straight from New Jersey spelled like a Bjork single. That's right, start laughing. Intentionally black water developed in New Jersey.
This water received a great deal of hype at the Fancy Food Show, not the least of which was the hushed claim that it had powers to heal the elderly and boasted its connections with the "stars" of The Real Housewives of New Jersey, which wins the prize for the worst marketing conjunction ever. Lawsuits ensued. Oh, and something something fulvic acid. That's what makes it black in color, and of course, by fulvic acid I clearly mean something gross in the sewage. Seriously, The Simpsons had it right when they intoned the sagacious and useful piece of advice- "if it's brown, drink it down. If it's black, send it back." Send back blk, because it's gimmicky and gross. Who really needs black water? I mean, aside from the elusive and coveted 14-year old Hot Topic clad demographic, this seems kind of silly for a rational adult to drink. It's useless in cocktails, as nobody really puts water in them, and on its own, it has a harsh, mineral-heavy flavor with a salty aftertaste.
This just goes against most of my principles of what I should put in my mouth, and at this point in my life, I've practically developed a leather-bound rulebook for them. I don't need water that touts itself as sexy and fascinating, especially when said water also calls itself a Free Radical Scavenger, which is a fancy term for an antioxidant in real life, but in my head, is a two person, one cello lo-fi band with guest singer Zooey Deschanel and a hit single called "Eminently Yours (Tom Cruise/Marilyn Monroe)" Drinking this makes me more thirsty and I just don't see the novelty in weakly colored murky water. I'll stick to the clear stuff and enjoy my "regular" dark side, the one that listens to the occasional Sting single and casually Facebook stalks people from summer camp.

MiO Energy Liquid Water Enhancer

Final exams bring out my most terrible habits. Despite lingering over the fact that the bulk of my exams were arbitrarily assigned at the end of the term, it led to a staunch examination of my vices when under pressure. Late-night snacking was a given, especially when the dining halls and wing delivery places were all open later. Incentive snacking also reared its sweet head. "I have twenty pages to paste together, so I think I'll eat one M&M for every 200 coherent words I write." Yeah, turns out M&M's are the perfect snack to eat while watching Scarface on Netflix, too. The world is yours, but only if you finish this science report. Sigh. But by far, the worst crutch I developed was a dependency to energy drinks. I've never been the type to drink Monster or even Mountain Dew because both taste like bitter, overly sweet motor oil, but then I found out that some energy drinks were mixed with coffee or chocolate milk. Hey, I love coffee and chocolate milk, I think I'll- why am I watching Food Network at 4 AM? It was dangerous. And kind of awesome.
Now that I'm done with finals I can slowly wean myself back to a non-caffeinated drink schedule and a normal bedtime of 10 PM, but not without one last hurrah. That's right, MiO is at it again, replacing Sassy Gay Friend with non-porn star "Thunder" Dave Steinman to debut their new energy formulas, MiO Energy. Kraft sent me these two bottles to review fo' free, but first, I need to clear something up. Thunder, are you a satire or are you a human? Either way, you look a little like Dale from Rescue Rangers. I want to punch you in the face and then go grab a beer. MiO Energy comes in two flavors, Mountain Dew Green Thunder and Black Cherry. Perfect for the holidays, if your wish list also includes no sex and an XBox. If you haven't already tried MiO, the liquid water enhancer, check out my review here.
Both MiO Energy flavors are incredibly concentrated out of the bottle and smell very medicinal before mixed in water. Both have no sugar and 60 mg of caffeine per squirt, about as much as an 8 oz. mug of instant coffee. Green Thunder appears to be less of a citrus-inspired drink and more of an energy-flavored drink, and by "energy-flavored" I mean liquid Smarties and carbonated aspirin. And that's basically what this one tastes like at first. It gets a little better after sitting for a while, and ends up tasting like fruit-flavored candies, but comes nowhere near having an actual fruity flavor. It's the poor man's Monster and the rich man's Vault.
I much preferred the Black Cherry flavor. Despite having the stainability of a Sharpie, it has a much more floral, delicate flavor with a rich cherry flavor that masks the caffeine and doesn't end up tasting like cough syrup. Like its noncaffeinated predecessor, it has a slightly viscous texture that later smooths out after mixing, and would taste good mixed with either juices or even another MiO flavor. It feels like a more thought-out, versatile flavor with the ability to add a fruity kick to whatever you're drinking and is luscious and tangy.
MiO Energy isn't supposed to be added to alcohol, but I can't help but be curious about revamping the classic Red Bull and Coke with a few squirts of this red-eye style. I'm not sure if the Green Thunder would taste good with anything other than vodka, but the cherry could prove to be versatile in a number of situations involving booze. But mainly all-night gaming sessions and frat parties. MiO Energy is an interesting concept, but the twelve servings in the bottle only makes you roughly six water bottles or twelve glasses full of beverage. If you're looking for small bursts of energy over a long period of time, it might be helpful, but won't give you the same long stride as a 5-Hour Energy (138 mg/2 oz) or even a NOS (140 mg/8 oz) will. As always, I prefer MiO a hair stronger than the recommended serving size, so perhaps adjusting the dose will vary your mileage. Just make sure not to drink this in eveningwear.

Big Bamboo Jamaican Irish Moss Peanut Drink

I don't know if I can adequately vocalize the specific brand of rage I reserve for U2's "Do They Know It's Christmas?" Yes, I know it's by Band Aid. But with the level of simpering, holier-than-thou pretension, they may as well have just said it was all Bono. Seriously. That's not a Christmas song, because it contains a distinct lack of singing reindeer, beleaguered couples, and commercial joy. Also, because it's not Christmas in East Haven. Case closed.
And don't even get me started on Christmas Shoes. I mean, seriously, songs that are marketed toward a strictly Christmas audience (different from a Christian audience, but similar to an audience that responds positively toward the music played in department stores) are not automatically Christmas songs. Likewise, flavors that appear to be holiday-themed may, in fact, be the exact opposite.
I don't know what holiday Irish moss officially represents. Let's go with "Pick that thing up and put it in your mouth! Day" because like mushrooms, this drink is primarily derived from a food that should have never been consumed in the first place- Chondrus chrispus, also known as carrageen moss. Unlike mushrooms, it's used as a popular aphrodisiac in Jamaica, colloquially "putting the lead back into your pencil." Hi-ho, Ticonderoga, indeed. Did I mention this is inexplicably called the Big Bamboo? Fear for me, readers. Also, pray.
So I bought this because it was 75 cents and had snowflakes on it, which I now realize are an artist's renditions of Irish moss and peanuts, hence my associating it with holiday foods. If soda was a nightmare, this is what would appear out of the darkness just before you wake up, biting off your head and lower intestinal area. Actually, I partially take that back. This isn't really a soda, though it comes in a soda can. It looks like I've been suckered into buying another one of those FEMA nutritional drinks again. The nutrition facts on this read like a Stephen King novel. I'm not sure why someone put a peanut butter milkshake in a soda can and labeled it as a marital aid- maybe for Homer Simpson? But here it is.
Also, the can tab displayed remarkably faulty craftsmanship as well as visual comedic gold. Classic, Irish Moss, classic. The beverage is tan and HOLY CRAP IT'S CHUNKY. No. No. No. There shouldn't be visual, pointy chunks in a peanut butter milkshake. It smells inoffensive, like granulated sugar and Mary Jane candies. Like grandmothers, but so, so far from that. The consistency is a little gulp-worthy, with a thick, gelatinous pour. It separates easily and has a foamy, oily texture that leaves a sheen on the fingers. As I expected, the flavor is pretty decent, as most products with 98% milk, peanut butter, and sugar ought to be. It has a clean, persistent roasted nuttiness and a pleasant salinity from the seaweed. Two flavors that surprisingly work well together, neither one overwhelming or strangely flavored. The aftertaste was slightly metallic.
Aside from the sheer creepiness of drinking this, for the most part, it was innocuous and tasty, with a balance in sweetness that most soft drinks seem to miss. Of course, that still doesn't account for the 33 grams of sugar, but at least you don't feel like it's rotting your teeth as you drink it. Unlike "Christmas Shoes." The chunks, whatever the hell they were, dissolved before I had the chance to strain them out and examine them. Despite the Freudian euphemistic signs that are as overt as a Blue's Clues show, I'm totally above telling you that everything about this drink reminds me of sex. Oh, damn it. I mean, come on! Flesh tone beverage? Gently shake before opening? I'm not crazy. As for the side effects? Let's just say that I didn't feel any enhanced mistletoe interactions or heavily decked halls. Because those are completely meaningless terms, and I'm a Jewish girl. Damn you, Big Bamboo! Damn you to hell!

Nestle Nutrition Chocolate Nutrament Nutrition Drink

Where else but the dogmatic structure of a university can adults pay to be legally forced to churn out work like underage sweatshop employees, spending countless sleepless nights toiling on assignments that lead to...more school and more work? Seriously, I'm about to send a press release to the World Human Organization and Amnesty International. I'm more marveling than complaining. I like working on papers. I strive to enter a career that revolves around research and arguments. But I can't help but be impressed at the marketing behind higher education.
As you can see by my incoherent and loosely structured rant, I'm knee-deep in the sludge of college finals. I have a gorgeously written paper due tomorrow, two final exams to study for, and a film about bugs to watch and take notes on. Needless to say, I'm locked in my dormitory awaiting execution by homework. It's going to be a long two days. I stocked up on energy drinks and protein shakes to keep me alert and unencumbered by things like "food" and "bathroom breaks."
Seriously, this drink looks like something you'd hand out to African refugee children suffering from ascites. Or college students. Same difference. I can't tell if the label on this is a misguided jab at hipness from the 60-year old WordArt certified graphic designers on this account or just incredibly outdated and cheap. My guess is the latter. This is the only nutrition or protein drink I've seen that can be bought for $2. And your soul.
With 360 calories and your apparently daily recommended value of sugar, 49 grams, not a whole lot about this is screaming "nutritious." The store only carried chocolate, but I must say I feel a little jilted that my area wasn't privy to the more eclectic flavors this comes in like banana, coconut, and dulce de leche. And this barely passes as chocolate. Hell, canola oil surpasses cocoa in the ingredient list. Nestle, do you mean to tell me that one of the primary energy supplements in this is canola oil? Holy hell, this is worse than I anticipated. The can tells me to "just chill the can + shake vigorously to release the inner power." I'm guessing that's a roundabout way of saying there's an asston of sediment at the bottom or a subliminal advertisement for masturbating.
This tastes like a distillation of chocolate Necco wafers and Flintstones vitamins, down to the chalkiness and artificially fruity flavor. It has a powdery, fake smell reminiscent of the marshmallows in Lucky Charms and flat, dull color. While there but for the grace of Nestle goes the texture, surprisingly fluid and smooth, there is absolutely nothing else redeeming about this drink. It has the disturbing heft and substance of baby formula and an unrelenting sugary aftertaste. In pinning down this flavor I think it's best described as "protein ass." Please, please, please, if you're between this and another protein drink for twice the price, splurge. Nestle, merely putting the word "nutrition" on the bottle five times does not make this nutritious.

KeVita Sparkling Probiotic Coconut Refreshment

I'm the first to admit that I'm literally the world's foremost expert on everything, especially gourmet food, dark chocolate, and haute cuisine. Emeril can take a goddamned seat. And I know that most people agree with me. Hell, I've even gotten over my self-proclaimed Kryptonite, mushrooms. Better yet, I've made peace with the vile scum and we've reached a quiet understanding.
However, there was one thing I had to cross off my bucket list that I knew would be a tough one. Worse than watching Keepitcoming Love laugh at my old "claw hand + cell phone" photos from the backlogs of '09, I've always been kind of squicked out by kombucha. You'd think fermented anything wouldn't be something that would gross me out. Maybe it's the fact that it's made with something called a "mother mushroom" which is a kind name compared to the fact that it's literally a giant floating ball of bacteria in your lefthanded Limoges teacup.
And guess what? This drink isn't kombucha. I'm a huge baby. But this is probiotic, a good start to infiltrating your body with tiny, superpowered microorganisms. This was given to me by our good friend the German Shepherd Whisperer. I drank this pretty quickly. And I didn't turn into Jamie Lee Curtis as a result my "irregularity." I'm so regular, guys. This drink, from KeVita, is pretty darned tasty. When you overlook the fact that the carbonation isn't from good ol' CO2, it tastes like a well-crafted, delicious soda. This drink makes me want to take up yoga and go out for a jog. It has a clean, fresh mild flavor, including that textured creaminess that coconuts have. The probiotics round the drink out with an earthy, yogurty tang. With the bubbles in abundance, it's more complex than your average Coke and has a restrained sweetness that makes it hard to resist. While it took me a while to adjust to the lack of a sugary onslaught, I realized I liked it quite a bit.
The drink left me with a full feeling and satisfied my sweet tooth. It was really tasty, and even the bubbles looked livelier. I feel like this would work well as a supplement to a juice fast. Not that I've ever tried any of those. I'm proposing to bifidobacteria tomorrow. I'll let you know how that goes.

Maine Root Pumpkin Pie Soda

I can't quite tell what this soda's angle is. It was put out on the shelves after Halloween, yet has a jack-o-lantern on it. Because I totally didn't find this until after Halloween, I'm going to say that this is for Thanksgiving, for the college student stranded by themselves over break with little else to eat on the holiday except for this soda and McDonald's and day-old bakery rolls. Forever alone.

This makes for a depressing Thanksgiving, if you're drinking it for its intended purpose. I've tolerated selections from Maine Root in the past, and have enjoyed their stranger selection of flavors. This was a new one in the supermarket. Unfortunately, there are some flavors that just shouldn't be incarnated into carbonated form. Jones has exhausted that list to the point of insipid novelty, and now Maine Root is jumping on the bandwagon with their pumpkin pie soda. Even the kitten was kind of skeptical.

A few years ago I totally "wasn't" into Harry Potter and I "didn't" go to three of the midnight book releases and "never" cried at the end of the seventh book. Now I'm over that noise despite seeing some of my old high school friends totally cosplaying the crap out of those books, but was piqued by this soda as a result of a years-old curiosity surrounding the omnipresent pumpkin juice in the book series. I was hoping this would be quenching, rich, and almost vegetal in flavor with a deep underlying spiciness and sweet hint of brown sugar. It was basically all of that, reversed.

Imagine the weak, generic scent of a votive candle- the vague mishmosh of spices that somehow loosely translates to the flavors of fall and appeals to the sensibilities of people who consider Jersey Shore quality theatrics. That's what this taste like. It's overly sugared and smells synthetic, and completely lacks pumpkin. The sugar content in this is through the roof. It tastes closer to some of the pumpkin-shaped candies of the season than it tastes like its gourd brethren. And let's be serious- simply saturating it with an asston of orange food coloring doesn't make it taste more like pumpkin. Keepitcoming Love liked this soda because it did have a persistent and strong fresh nutmeg and cinnamon stick flavor, slightly sticky, dry texture included, but I wasn't sold on its weak flavor. I can't enjoy anything that wins the first place slot in the Family Feud question, "Soda that best resembles a Yankee Candle."

Gingerbread Float Cocktails

For most Americans, the next two months are going to be chock-full of activity and preparation. Not simply for holiday meals and travel plans, but mental, ninja-like preparation for steeling themselves against the onslaught of annual family members whom literally nobody enjoys.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm sure you love your Uncle Roy despite his unflagging tendency to bring his own vegan quinoa salad and home-printed pamphlets about the brutality of turkey slaughter in the United States. And I've no doubt you occasionally enjoy the company of your cousin Jeremy, who will play Modern Warfare 3 with you for five hours straight after dinner but will casually bring up the subject of medical school, even though you dropped out in 2002.

But don't try to convince me that you like your great-aunt or grandmother asking your date if they're married. Or if you, politely clad in a starched Brooks Brothers shirt and pressed slacks, if you are getting married. Or if you're ever going to bring a nice Jewish boy home to meet the family. (No. No. Not a chance.)

Don't bust out the Prozac yet, guys. I have something special for you.

Once upon a midnight dreary, I sat home listening to Steely Dan and taking shots of this beautiful, sultry liquor, Root, alone in the dark. Your tax dollars at work! After sobering up, I realized that I needed to give this to the masses in a less collegiate, more family-friendly fashion like, immediately. And from my loins, this Gingerbread Float was born. I tested many combinations with my faithful friend and killed many gingerbread men in the process, but the results were so delicious that I couldn't possibly keep them to myself.

Representing the high-priced, mild flavor of Connecticut. Hell yes!

Try to find Root. Please, please, please try to find this, because on its own it tastes like the best, most deeply smoky ginger beer you've ever had, with a snappy, sweet flavor like straight bourbon vanilla and a comfortingly warm finish. As well it should, being 80 proof. What makes it so remarkable is how versatile it is. I'd happily drink this like Scotch, with a finger or two in a tumbler with ice, or in a cocktail (warmed cider, perhaps?) or like this in a milk-based drink. You need this. I need this.

Rimming is essential. You know what I mean, don't give me that look. Water will do in a pinch, but in later permutations of this cocktail, I found that a little maple syrup or melted caramel sauce was better for maximum stickiness for the gingersnap and spice coating. These are so freaking good. I know that as a full-time student at a full-time party school, I'm genetically obliged to tell you that something with copious amounts of alcohol and ice cream is freaking good, but this is good because it's nuanced in a way that makes it an easy drinker as well as something to really savor. Whipped cream is unnecessary.

And yes, that's not a typo. You deserve a cocktail with four ounces of booze, so don't skimp.

Gingerbread Float Cocktails

Ingredients (makes 1 cocktail- multiply for more servings!)

1/4 teaspoon cloves

1/2 teaspoon brown sugar

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

2 Pepperidge Farms Ginger Men cookies, crumbled

2 oz Root liquor

2 oz vodka

1/2 cup vanilla bean ice cream or gelato

3/4 cup whole milk

Maple syrup for rimming

1. Crush the ginger cookies in a food processor until finely ground. Mix with spices and sugar and put on a small plate.

2. Over the sink, brush maple syrup over the rim of a Collins glass so that the spices and crumbs have a sticky surface to adhere to. Place the rim into the spice mixture and move around so that all surfaces are covered.

3. In a blender, pour in the remaining spices from the plate, the Root, vodka, ice cream, and milk. Blend until smooth.

4. Pour into glass and garnish with cookie and a dash of ground cinnamon.

Do not skip the garnish. It is the absolute alter ego of the cocktail. And it has red sprinkles, ergo, it's really freaking cute. I rest my case. Please just make this- at the very least, you'll have a built-in excuse to avoid backyard football and Republican debates.

McDonald's Peppermint Mocha Hot Chocolate

Quick! Scream the first thing that reminds you of October out loud!

Was it Halloween? Was it? Was it?

You're wrong! The correct answer was "snow." More appropriately, metric asstons of it, in my backyard. And frankly, I'm tired of all of this anxiety over Halloween. I'm not even dressing up. I've decided to skip the entire affair, screw this Halloween noise, and go right ahead to the generic winter festivities that have popped up in town over night. You'd think New England would be used to these weatherly shenanigans by now, but here we are and here's the new hot chocolate from McDonald's.

Much like Martha Stewart and her stock portfolio, McDonald's seems to have a pretty uncanny sense of timing. Why else would they release these blatantly wintry libations at the end of October? I sense a conspiracy theory for the 11 o'clock local news! Well, men, I've gone to McDonald's and back in this freak blizzard, I've tasted their peppermint mocha hot chocolate, and I've heard the good word of the Lord himself, Mr. McDonald, and the word is this. This hot chocolate is fairly heinous.

While the regular McCafe hot chocolate is passable with a creamy consistency and "eh" chocolate flavor, this is not the best representation of winter. In fact, it's freaking strange. I just

don't see how throwing around mint and coffee automatically denotes winter in the world of advertising. Peanut butter hot chocolate? Chili hot chocolate? All flavors I can get behind. I consider myself a fairly adept Googler, and though my search terms tell me that peppermint-flavored objets around Christmas just for the hell of it are merely piggybacking off the popularity of the candy cane, it still ain't right.

And that's the case with this hot chocolate. No matter which way you swing it, certain flavors aren't meant to be mixed together like some sort of nontoxic chemistry set. Those flavors include chocolate, coffee, and mint. If I were to make a diagram I'd begrudgingly admit that chocolate and mint go well together, as do chocolate and coffee, but the three together are unpalatable. In this particular beverage, all three flavors are fighting for top billing, with the bitterness from the coffee clashing horribly with the crisp, herbal flavors of the peppermint. There's a reason why people don't brush their teeth and then drink their coffee- it's pretty gross. Unfortunately, that's what this drink mimics to a t.