A is for apple. B is for banana. C is for childless woman purchasing alcohol and a box of toddler cereal at the self-checkout, pretending that this is perfectly normal.

Wait, sorry, got that wrong. C is for cereal!

Being the childless woman mentioned above, I questioned my ability to fairly judge Post Sesame Street C is for Cereal. I have no nieces or nephews, and my time around children has been pretty limited in general. To be honest, they make me a little uncomfortable. There’s always something going on with their snot and they ask strange questions that I don’t know how to answer.

After a little thought, though, I realized I do have the mind of a child. I like poop and fart jokes, and I do run into things a lot. I don’t pick my nose in public, but I do occasionally burp out loud, forgetting I’m not at home.

I chose “A is for Apple” over “B is for Banana” (do you “C” what they did there?) partly because I’m not fond of fake banana flavoring and partly because the Cookie Monster is the mascot for that flavor. I get that they’re promoting “healthy” flavors, but dude…Cookie Monster. Cookie cereal. It makes me angry enough that cookies are now a “sometimes food”, but forcing the Cookie Monster to shill bananas is just sad.

Apple gets Elmo as a mascot. I’m cool with Elmo. I’m also going to completely ignore that his voice actor allegedly had sex with underaged boys or whatever. This is about cereal and toddlers and snot. Let’s not drag out any nasty business.

Palate cleanser: the back of Sesame Street Apple shows Elmo trying to catch butterflies. He could not be any happier about it, and the butterflies are happy too, probably because they realize that Elmo’s net is too small to catch any of them, so this is more of a fun outdoor dance party than anything else.

Because there’s a long-standing tradition of kids staring at the back of cereal boxes while they eat their breakfast, there’s some fun activities to occupy a young child’s mind. They are encouraged to count both the butterflies and the X’s and O’s on each butterfly.

These letters were not chosen randomly – Sesame Street Cereal is shaped like X’s and O’s, which I personally find a little puzzling. Why are they limited to the letters that are universally recognized as hugs and kisses? Does Alpha-Bits have a trademark on the rest of the alphabet?

After a quick Google search, I discovered that Alpha-Bits is also a Post product, so what’s the problem, here? Your toddler could be learning how to spell words like “booger” and “poopyhead” with Elmo!

Of course, you could always play tic-tac-toe with your X’s and O’s. I always tie when I play against myself, though.

According to Post’s website, “Sunny days start with Post Sesame Street Cereal: Elmo Apple! It has just-for-toddlers nutrition that moms can feel good about (whole grains, low sugar, and natural colors and flavors), the classic fun of Elmo, and naturally-flavored X’s and O’s that kids will love.”

I guess cloudy and rainy days are out of luck. No Elmo for you.

I was surprised that apple was not actually listed as an ingredient in “Elmo Apple” (which is how Post seems to refer to it everywhere but on the actual cereal box). There’s the presence of always-vague “natural flavor”, but that’s it. While I found this discouraging, the ingredient list as a whole is short and composed of words I can actually pronounce, so moms really can feel good about that. Plus, the list of vitamins and minerals takes up half the side of the box, making my job at the end of this review harder, but making moms feel better knowing their toddler just ate 50 percent of their suggested daily intake of folic acid.

Like any other human being, I first tried A is for Apple by sticking my hand in the box and shoving the dry cereal into my mouth. This did not go well. It tasted like I was eating horse feed. Granted, I’ve never tried horse feed, but I’d imagine this cereal would make a fine substitute.

The best way I could describe the flavor is “grains”. Not grainy, just grains, like if you’d gotten a box of Lucky Charms that had gone horribly wrong somewhere along the assembly line and was completely devoid of marshmallows or any sweetness. There was also a rather prominent, odd bitter taste.

I was so distracted by how blandly healthy the cereal tasted that I forgot for a second that it was supposed to taste like apple. It did not taste like apple. I reached my arms out, struggling to find the apple taste, much like how a toddler reaches up to his mommy when he wants to be picked up. I was able to find a faint taste, a tongue whiff, if you will, of apple, but even that lacked all signs of sweetness.

The box said that one serving for children over the age of four was one cup with ½ cup of fat free milk. I don’t think I’ve ever measured out cereal and milk in my life, but I figured for the sake of the children, I would do it. It made a respectable bowlful. I only had 2% milk on-hand, and I wasn’t willing to commit enough to go buy some watery fat free milk just for this, so…deal.

The milk didn’t really help any. The best I can say is that the cereal stayed surprisingly crunchy in the milk, with only a few soggy pieces. The taste, however, was largely the same – blandly oat-ish, bitter, and with almost zero apple flavor to liven things up.

I may not be a child, but I have vague memories of being one, and I probably would have protested greatly had I been forced to eat Post Sesame Street C is for Cereal A is for Apple. Even the presence of Elmo would not have helped. I understand that it is made to be super healthy for growing little brains and bodies, but bitter oats and no apple flavor are not going to fly for any kid old enough to throw their food off the table.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup – 110 calories, 15 calories from fat, 1.5 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 0.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 125 milligrams of sodium, 85 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 1 gram of sugar, 18 grams of other carbohydrates, 3 grams of protein, 15% vitamin A, 10% vitamin C, 50% iron, 20% vitamin D, 25% thiamin, 25% riboflavin, 25% niacin, 25% vitamin B6, 50% folic acid, 25% vitamin B12, 10% phosphorus, 8% magnesium, 10% zinc and 4% copper.)

Item: Post Sesame Street C is for Cereal A is for Apple
Purchased Price: $3.19
Size: 10.5 oz. box
Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Provides 2/3 of toddler’s daily whole grains. Elmo. Chock full of vitamins and minerals. Outdoor dance parties with butterflies.
Cons: Tastes like grain-and-oat based horse feed. Unpleasant information about the voice of Elmo. Has a distinct bitter flavor. Having to play tic-tac-toe with yourself. Very little apple flavor. Snot.

There are many terrible things I am more likely to do before I ever again eat the latest addition to Taco Bell’s signature FirstMeal menu:

Walk barefoot in an Irish bar on St. Patrick’s Day.

Get some fillings when I don’t really have cavities, “just for the heck of it.”

Watch Paranormal Activity by myself in an empty house and then leave the bedroom door open when I go to bed.

Steal my boss’s corporate card to buy myself an expensive lunch and defiantly say it’s because “they owe me.”

Accidentally swallow a goldfish.

That is how little I enjoyed these pudgy little artery-cloggers they call the Taco Bell A.M. Crunchwraps. Speaking of which, let’s break down the title of this new breakfast item: “Taco Bell” – OK, so we know where we can buy this. “A.M.” – Only available in the morning. Check. “Crunchwrap” – Woah, now… slow your roll. There wasn’t anything crunchy inside these wraps. Just chewy, oily, and rubbery things.

The A.M. Crunchwrap comes in two inexpensive, standard breakfast varieties, Bacon or Sausage. I tried both, and let me tell you that while the grilled flour tortilla is warm, toasty and crisp around the edges, the insides do not crunch. Both A.M. Crunchwraps come with the meat on top of a layer of scrambled eggs and cheese paired with a once-crispy hash brown. Unfortunately the hash brown patties inside of the two A.M. Crunchwraps I got were soggy with grease and excess moisture from being trapped in between a jacket of melted cheese and a flour tortilla, so what had probably been a nice, hot golden exterior was now golden mush. They get some points for even thinking of including hash browns though. It’s the idea of hash browns that counts.

That still isn’t the worst of it. Let’s talk specifically about the Bacon A.M. Crunchwrap. Contrary to my preconceived notions, there were no crisp, savory strips of bacon in this breakfast contraption, just bacon bits — the kind you’d probably find in a pre-packaged Cobb salad sold for $10.95 at the airport sandwich express counter right next to the case of SoBe and Evian. If Taco Bell were being really honest, they would’ve named this thing the “Bacon Bits A.M. Crunchwrap.” And if Taco Bell were being really, really honest, they would call it the “Chunks of Rubber A.M. Gushwrap.”

The hash brown made everything excessively oily. The bacon bits were tough. I imagine ground-up eraser tips from #2 pencils would taste like those bacon bits. Furthermore, they were stuffed inside one corner of the wrap instead of sprinkled throughout, so when I sliced it in half, all the bacon bits spilled out onto the plate. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if I had been eating this straight out of the wrapper. Best case scenario, I would’ve ended up with a final bite filled with nothing but bacon bits. Worst case, a shower of bacon bits on my lap. The decent flavor of the scrambled egg and cheese was the only factor that kept the Bacon A.M. Crunchwrap from being 100 percent garbage.

The good news is that the Sausage A.M. Crunchwrap is better. Not excellent, but better. The Sausage A.M. Crunchwrap is sufficiently savory. Ironically, it wasn’t dripping with grease like the Bacon one. I’d think that a thick sausage patty would be oozing with the slick stuff, but alas, no. The sausage patty inside the Sausage A.M. Crunchwrap was of a decent diameter, too, and it was thick — a nice meaty counterpart to the egg, cheese and fried potato inside the tortilla. It also had some heft and felt like more of a substantial meal than the Bacon A.M. Crunchwrap.

The Sausage A.M. Crunchwrap seems like the final draft while the Bacon A.M. Crunchwrap was the shitty rough draft Taco Bell churned out in 30 minutes because they were working under deadline and hadn’t slept a wink after watching Paranormal Activity by themselves the night before.

If you’re in the mood for something relatively cheap and quick that’s not the worst fast food breakfast you’ll ever eat, then the Sausage A.M. Crunchwrap is for you. But if you’re interested in flavor, texture and experiencing complete satisfaction with your breakfast, then why are you eating at Taco Bell?

(Nutrition Facts – Bacon – 680 calories. Sausage – 720 calories.)

Other Taco Bell A.M. Crunchwrap reviews:
So Good Blog

Item: Taco Bell A.M. Crunchwrap (Bacon & Sausage)
Purchased Price: $2.50
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Taco Bell
Rating: 2 out of 10 (Bacon)
Rating: 5 out of 10 (Sausage)
Pros: Tortilla is warm and crisp around the edges. Sausage A.M. Crunchwrap has nice heft to it. Sausage patty is savory and thick. The idea of hash browns.
Cons: Greasy. Bacon tastes like #2 pencil erasers. Something totally slamming that bedroom door shut in the middle of the night. Soggy hash browns.

There were times during my post-college schooling that I would resort to NyQuil just to get some sleep. Afflicted with psychosomatic symptoms which, of course, were thin excuses to take the cold medicine, I would reach for that trademark-shaped bottle.

I conjured up symptoms like a scratchy throat while knowing I could scarf down salty pretzels with ease. Is my nose stuffy? Time for NyQuil, but I knew inside I was breathing fine. Is it 10:00pm? Time for NyQuil. You say the moon is out? Hells yeah, pour me two fingers please.

For the record, my favorite was the blue-green liquid because I thought the worse it tasted, the better it worked. Also, it looked like it was from the future. You know how movies let the viewer know it’s the year 3000 by having people at a bar drink blue or green cocktails in silver clothing. That’s what I imagined when I drank it.

I know a lot of us out there abused NyQuil’s magical qualities at one point. Then those stupid meth heads ruined all the fun. Medicines are now cut with weaker ingredients that frankly do not work as well as the old stuff.

I had to give the pharmacist my driver’s license just to buy the original NyQuil (renamed NyQuil-D) when the poor wife was suffering from a bad cold. Thanks a lot meth addicts. You deserve the sunken looks, splotchy skin and the occasional blown up limbs.

Suspiciously, it seems Vicks is keenly aware of NyQuil and its uses regardless if one is suffering from a cold. I have no evidence of this but how else to explain their new product ZzzQuil?

Not one to pass up a good time, I was fascinated by its name. It looked like a fake product hawked on a Saturday Night Live skit or a bad Wacky Packages card. I couldn’t believe it was real but tossed it in my cart along with the gummy fiber pills and rectangle tins of mustard sauce sardines.

Taking a picture, I posted the product on my social network to get a reaction. Friends alike kept asking if this was real. Yes Virginia, there is a ZzzQuil.

I went ahead and experimented in various methods to see how effective this purple berry flavored elixir was. Taking the next four days to get familiar with ZzzQuil, I rubbed my hands together and hoped for the best.

Night One: I ate a pot roast dinner about four hours prior to getting into to bed. No dessert so my stomach should be fairly settled. I removed the plastic mini cup and poured a shot of ZzzQuil. I sniffed and gagged as the distinguished bitter medicinal smell was there to say “Hello.”

I slugged it as fast as possible and noted that it was much more palatable than the blueish or the red cherry NyQuil. It’s true, a spoonful (or three) helps the medicine go down because it was damn sweet. The “warming berry flavor” was more of a nondescript sugary taste, thus explaining the ingredient: high fructose corn syrup. As viscous the medicine was, the ZzzQuil did not coat my tongue or throat. Like my favorite gin martini, it went down easy.

Despite the berry flavor, true as it states on the package, there was a warming effect in my stomach. However, there was a problem as I never felt groggy or sleepy soon after taking it. In fact, it took maybe an hour for it to work, if it did work at all. I wasn’t sure if it was the medicine or it was just normalcy that lulled me to sleep time.

Waking up, I did not feel out of it or tired as sometimes NyQuil does to a person. I was left with the question if this stuff works at all.

Night Two: I took ZzzQuil an hour earlier before bedtime. Watching Les and family toss out crazies in Hardcore Pawn made me laugh, which has some of the best confrontations this side of Cheaters. Two episodes in and I still did not feel tired.

Don’t judge me, but I enjoyed the mini-marathon so much I almost forgot I had taken the sleeping aid. I was able to devour quite a few “eff-youze” and only crashed when I decided to go to sleep. I never got that “fuzzy” or slow-motion brain thing when medicine makes you take a nap. Again, it failed.

Night Three: With my wife gone out of state to speak at some superhugeimportant symposium, I chose to take it so early that the sunlight was still out. Yes, I imbibed the purple concoction as soon as I got home from work. The 6:30 pm news blagged on about the thunderstorm warnings as I went through my evening routine of a shower, a neat scotch, and reading my e-mail as I made dinner.

It did not work. I was able to watch television, play some Diablo III and search for some Mexican Ghostbuster II t-shirts on eBay. I fell asleep when I went to bed at my normal time and I even broke the cardinal rule of no alcohol when taking this medicine.

Day Four: After spending Saturday morning getting a haircut, shopping for power ties, and buying some songs on iTunes, I went over to the almost empty bottle. I slammed down another shot and settled down with a couple of episodes of Lizard Lick Towing. Complimenting my trash television, I drank a couple of bottles of Newcastle’s Limited Edition Werewolf beer I acquired at my local Publix supermarket.

I followed my dosage by watching the underrated “Forgetting Sarah Marshall,” listening to M83’s album twice (which some of its lush ambient songs themselves can bring you to sleep) while working on some manuscripts, half watched a rerun of Bridezillas, and internet shopped for some argyle sweater vests. I also drank three martinis sans olives, ate a mashed potato sandwich and scarfed down a handful of gumdrops. Not once did I get that sleepy feeling. Although, I did get drunk and felt like a loser because of how I spent my Saturday.

ZzzQuil was disappointing. It was also expensive and, frankly, there are better over-the-counter alternatives that do work. I never felt tired, rather all I felt was regret and disgust. ZzzQuil is a non-habit forming sleeping aid, but it doesn’t seem to work, which is, perhaps, why it’s non-habit forming.

Speaking of habits, I believe ZzzQuil has gotten me addicted to truTV’s lineup of colorful reality (or Actuality, as they brand it) shows and mashed potato sandwiches. The only effects this sleeping medication have had on me are embarrassment and self-loathing. I don’t condone the methods (except Night One) I’ve used, but I’m in need of some sleep and I think my throat is getting scratchy.

(Active Ingredients – 30 mL dose cup – 50 milligrams of dipenhydramine HCI. 10% alcohol. Inactive Ingredients – citric acid, ethanol, FD & C blue #1, FD & C red ##40, flavor, high fructose corn syrup, polyoxyl 40 stearate, propylene glycol, purified water, saccharine sodium, sodium benzoate, and sodium citrate dehydrate.)

Item: Vicks ZzzQuil
Purchased Price: $6.29
Size: 6 fl. oz.
Purchased at: Publix
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Goes down easy. The name ZzzQuil is pretty awesome. Nice warming feeling in my belly. The color purple is nice. Wacky Packages. No groggy feeling in the morning. Watching Hardcore Pawn and Lizard Lick Towing.
Cons: The price. It is way too sweet. It was seldom effective. Learning about yourself may cause disappointment. Wasting an entire Saturday. Watching Hardcore Pawn and Lizard Lick Towing.

Jell-O has been a ubiquitous part of my life. As a child, I was mesmerized. I have memories of perfect translucent cubes of red or green topped with whipped cream in a tulip sundae glass at a greasy diner. The way the light came through the gelatin mystified me. On Jell-O salads, I thought it was magic the way grapes and bananas were suspended in the dessert.

Then as the years continued on, the magic of the wobbly treat gave way to how much alcohol I could fortify it with. Imbibing on Jell-O shots with whip cream as an underage college student was a rite of passage as much as a part of an end to my childhood innocence. Nothing says sexy like a college freshman with red stained lips from downing too many Jell-O shots pumped with grain alcohol.

Recently, I was in an accident where I proved an SUV will always win against a pedestrian in a Ben Sherman jacket (I still miss that jacket…). Guess it doesn’t matter how cool and mod the jacket is, it won’t protect your bones any more than an ordinary one. The first comforting meal after several surgeries I found was a Jell-O cup. They called them gelatin gems in the hospital but it’s the same thing. The nurses liked me enough to ensure I would get an extra cup that my I’m sure my insurance company paid a premium for. I would not be surprised to learn that for every gelatin gem I ate, an underwriter lost their job.

Like I said, Jell-O has always been a part of my life to some degree. Walking down the baking goods aisle, scoffing at the tubs of cornstarch and flour (which is knowingly weird but I think I have Tourette’s where I scoff at things randomly), I was looking for nothing in particular. Then there it was, my eyes fixated on the boxes of Jell-O. How refreshing to make Jell-O from scratch than to buy it in those already convenient six pack cups. I’m doing it I declared to no one.

Scouring the boxes, one stuck out and it wasn’t just the annoying name. Mixchief by Jell-O. Sounds sophisticated since there is a byline in the product. The weird mascot on the box looks like Spongebob SquarePants dressed up as “The Gimp” from Pulp Fiction.

Then there is the pun. Puns just suck but what grabbed me about this product was “Add Soda.” Scarfing down a dessert that will quench my thirst simultaneously? How could I pass? It’s unflavored so whatever soda I use will paint the canvas per se.

I decided to use a common soft drink we should all be able to buy, Coke Zero. I was going to use Seagram’s Cranberry Ginger Ale since it is the holidays but I didn’t want to hear “Well, we don’t get that in Timbukthree or Tristram” or wherever the hell you all come from. Coke Zero sounds like a reasonable choice. Breaking out my pots with the grace of an alchemist, I ripped open the box like an ordinary person.

The instructions on the back are insipidly simple. If you cannot follow them, give up on life and drink a cup of bleach or beat yourself into a coma with a frying pan because you are pretty much useless. Sorry to sound so harsh but the directions fit on a small box if that tells you anything.

I followed the “extra special” variation where I used boiled soda instead of boiled water. The bubbling cola on the stove emanated a sickly pungent raisin-like smell. It grossed me out and I wanted to stop but I forced myself to proceed. The thought of Jell-O tasting like Coke was a tiny bit offsetting but so does chicken livers soaked in whole milk overnight and that shit is good.

Sometimes texture is just as important as the taste. Being Chinese, texture is a big component in the cuisine. How else to explain our obsession for soups laden with beef tendon or sucking on dried sour plums until they become slightly chewy? I like Coke Zero but in gelatin form would it taste as good? Would the texture compliment the soda? Would it be like a sixty-nine in my mouth? The answer is HELL NO! HELL NO TO ALL THREE!

The Impulsive Buy meet The Repulsive Buy. Somehow the gelatin mix was able to sap all the flavor out of the cola. It was flavorless and the tiny carbonated swallows made it even more repugnant. It was a truly an alien experience and eating it made me feel like the subject of a bukkake video.

I understand the Jell-O may taste as good as the soft drink you choose but I think the texture negates that fact. Maybe I should have not used a diet cola and something sweeter. Maybe an orange soda or a cranberry soda would come off better. Either way, you’re welcome to try because I won’t. This was so unappealing that even a dollop (or five) of whipped cream only intensified the blandness.

The only thing I can think of this Jell-O being used for is perhaps a novelty cocktail Jell-O shot like a Captain Morgan’s and Coke or a Gin and Tonic garnished with a candied lime, maybe even a beer. This will require a lot of trial and error (along with tomato juice to satiate any hangover pains) but I don’t believe will be worth it. I also think fans of “molecular” cookery might find it a fun and easy way to play with texture. However if that’s the case, you’re probably advanced enough to use gelatins sheets anyhow.

Sadly, this was a big fail, or more specifically the Coke Zero was a fail. I still believe the timid carbonated effect with each gulp is a bit disgusting regardless of the choice of soda. I’m all for new ideas, especially when it comes something as kitschy as Jell-O. Sometimes you win and sometimes you just suck. Jell-O, this sucked, but we’ll always have lime or beef tendon.

(Nutrition facts – 1/2 cup (prepared with cola and water) – 40 calories, 0 grams of fat, 10 milligrams of sodium, 9 grams of carbohydrates, 8 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Mixchief by Jell-O Make Your Own…Add Soda
Price: $1.29
Size: 0.25 ounces
Purchased: A Publix supermarket that is weirdly dim and where an angry old lady surveys the deli.
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: This did not give me the farts. Imagining a war between the writers of The Impulsive Buy and its parallel earth counterpart The Repulsive Buy which inadvertently cause another Crisis of The Infinite Earths!!!
Cons: Bylines for products. Bukakke vids. The faint carbonation in the Jell-O is repulsive. My Mom making me eat things by trickery, claiming they were “Chinese hamburgers” or “Chinese hot dogs.”

The fall season is beginning to make itself known here in Orlando. We have traded out 95 degree days (with humidity so thick you can cut slices of it and serve with whipped topping) for temperatures in the mid-eighties. The trees are turning from green to the same green. The air smelling of sweat mixed with citrus perfumes are bowing out for scents of sweat and sandalwood ones. Yep, Fall is here.

Who am I kidding? We would never know Fall has arrived if not for those disgusting cinnamon brooms the supermarkets trudge out that assault our noses. The aroma drives me crazy. Why the hell would anyone want their house to smell like smoker’s sneeze? It’s that unique blend of metal and curdled milk? Sorry dad, when you sneezed, it was the olfactory equivalent of Hiroshima.

So here I was in my local supermarket searching for some pizza rolls and the sickening wafts pillaged my nostrils. I didn’t care if I stretched the neck of my fitted t-shirt but I stuck my nose under the collar. Aware that I looked like I was trying to avoid the avian bird flu while roaming the aisles, I did not care. But then I found it, or maybe it found me (cue the Zamfir).

Dr Pepper Ten! All my friends know I am a sucker for two things: soft drinks with new flavors (I’m still hunting for that elusive mint-tinged Sprite Ice) and women who wear eyeglasses (drool). I am aware of the rules because for every Pepsi Lime there is a Pepsi Holiday Spice. I remember drinking the Holiday Spice and thought there was a demand for paint varnish flavored soft drinks. SCORE!!! I held a cold frosty bottle of the new Dr Pepper Ten.

Just to let you know Dr Pepper Ten also comes in the two-liter bottle (which normally go flat incredibly fast) and the standard case of twelve ounce cans. I decided to play it safe and buy the twenty ounce bottle because I did not want to commit to a dozen cans on the chance they taste like crap.

Dr Pepper is no stranger to different varieties of its flavor. I particularly was a big fan of their Dr Pepper Berries & Cream which was short lived in stores. I have been looking for this Dr Pepper Ten for some time and couldn’t believe they were here in front of me. Since writing this piece, they seem to be widely available now. My assumption is they are preparing for a nationwide rollout.

Just to let you know, the TEN refers to the ten calories per serving the doctor has. The weird thing is the ad campaign is marketing itself as a diet soda for men. I’m not sure if it is manlier to drink a diet soda that has ten calories versus none. I’m also not sure how they came up with ten calories being the threshold for a man’s drink versus eight or eleven calories. Honestly, a man’s drink is a tall glass of cheap scotch.

I am pretty certain if I went to my neighborhood biker bar and ordered a martini straight up with two black olives, holding a Dr Pepper Ten is not going to save me from a beat-down. Also do I think a woman drinking a Dr Pepper Ten is any less feminine because it’s supposedly for men? Nope, especially if she is wearing flirty black thin-rimmed eyeglasses.

Regardless of the stupid marketing, it’s all about the taste. The almost boiling weather couldn’t stop the condensation running from the bottle around my fingers. I twisted the cap and heard that satisfying pffffsssssttttttttttttt!

“Oh yeah,” I thought to myself and that was the last of my happiness.

The more appropriate name for Dr Pepper Ten is Dr Pepper Two. Read on and I will explain because like most underwhelming sequels (Ghostbusters II anyone?), this Dr Pepper rates a two. I give it two points: one for effort and another because it is not hydrochloric acid.

Like some beers, I think soda always tastes better in a pre-chilled glass and so I poured a generous amount. The bouquet (yeah I said bouquet) did not have that unique hint of a “nutmegish” scent that Dr Pepper normally has. In fact, it had no scent.

I took a sip and was instantly depressed. There was very little taste of the famous doctor, in fact there was very little taste. I did appreciate the lack of unpleasant sweet syrup that coats your teeth some diet sodas have. However, this is canceled out by the fact there was little flavor.

In fact, it tasted close to plain seltzer which made me pine for that heavy sweetness. Actually, I wouldn’t care if it tasted like prune juice (as it is rumored Dr Pepper is made from) as my taste buds wanted to grasp on to something. It claims there are Ten BOLD tasting calories but it is no bolder than a grey argyle sweater vest.

A clean finish for sure, which many sodas do not have, but what does it matter when there is no taste? I haven’t been this disappointed since Fox unforgivably cancelled the show “Drive” with geek approved actor Nathan Fillion. Speaking of amped manliness, I keep hoping he will team up with Bruce Campbell.

You know, if there are ten calories…it has got to be from eating the cap and bottle. Dr Pepper Ten is obviously for boring men (or men with way too sensitive taste buds). It hasn’t affected me since I still shop at Banana Republic, listen to New Order and have different colognes for night or day.

Furthermore, Dr Pepper Ten states proudly “It’s not for women.” Women aren’t missing much because a poor tasting product will fail regardless of which gender they are aiming for. If Dr Pepper Ten is for men, I’ll take a “girly” Diet Dr Pepper instead. Or a scotch.

(Nutrition Facts – 8 ounces – 10 calories, 0 grams of fat, 100 milligrams of sodium, 5 grams of carbs, 4 grams of sugars, and 0 grams of protein.)

Other Dr Pepper Ten reviews:
BevReview
BevNerd (video)
Random Dude Eats Random Food

Item: Dr Pepper Ten
Price: $1.59
Size: 20 ounces
Purchased at: My neighborhood Publix that sells those forsaken cinnamon brooms.
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: No sticky film on your teeth. Nathan Fillion. Pleasant clean finish. Women in glasses, especially with their hair pulled back. Did I mention it doesn’t leave a sticky film on your “teeths”? Banana Republic circa 2006. It is only ten calories.
Cons: No Dr Pepper taste. No sweet taste. No taste. Networks canceling shows too early thus giving us viewer blue balls. Ad campaign is moronic. Not one of the ten calories are bold. CINNAMON BROOMS. Men, Women…either way it’s not good for either.

I need a smoothie to wash away the taste of the new Yoplait Chocolate Banana Smoothie. My mouth tastes like a chocolate fondue party is happening in my mouth, but instead of suburbanites, it’s being attended by hobos, hippies, and others who think deodorant is unnecessary.

Also, my mouth happens to be a room where hot yoga classes are held. Everything is creating a combination of chocolate and armpit sourness.

Just like the Boston Red Sox at the beginning of this baseball season, I had high hopes for Yoplait’s Chocolate Banana Smoothie. I thought merging a cup of skim milk with Yoplait’s chocolate-flavored frozen yogurt pieces and frozen banana slices would turn into a tasty, refreshing 16-ounce smoothie that would make me temporarily forget about the Boston Red Sox’s complete choke job, but it ended up being the salt rubbed into my wounds.

I like chocolate, I enjoy bananas, and I’m really fond of the original Yoplait Smoothie flavors, so I thought Yoplait’s Chocolate Banana Smoothie was going to be another home run. However, something went horribly wrong with this attempt to steal away profits from Jamba Juice.

There’s only two good things about Yoplait’s Chocolate Banana Smoothie. It blends easily and it has a wonderful smoothie consistency. It’s not too thick, but also not watery. Oh, there’s a third good thing about this smoothie. It’s cold. But it’s only a good thing if you pour the smoothie on top of your head to cool you down, because pouring it inside of your head via your mouth might not be enjoyable, because as I mentioned before, it’s kind of gross.

Everything about its flavor is unpleasant, from the chocolate-flavored frozen yogurt to the banana to the artificial sweeteners. There’s a repulsive sourness in each sip, which probably originates from the frozen yogurt. It even smells repugnant. On top of all of that, the smoothie has an annoying grittiness.

Overall, this Yoplait Chocolate Banana Smoothie is not bananas.

N-O-T-B-A-N-A-N-A-S.

What?

You thought I would end this review with a baseball reference.

Fine.

Overall, this Yoplait Chocolate Banana Smoothie is as horrible as the number of strikeouts Orioles third baseman Mark Reynolds racks up each year.

(Nutrition Facts – 8 ounces prepared w/skim milk. 130 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 80 milligrams of sodium, 23 grams of carbohydrates, 15 grams of sugar, and 6 grams of protein, 4% vitamin A, 6% vitamin C, 70% calcium, and 4% iron.)

Item: Yoplait Chocolate Banana Smoothie
Price: $3.49 (on sale)
Size: 7.6 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Blends easily. Nice smoothie consistency. Cold.
Cons: This shit is not bananas. N-O-T-B-A-N-A-N-A-S. Gritty. Its strong artificial sweetener taste. My excessive use of baseball references in this review. Unsure if it contains live and active cultures, since it doesn’t say on the packaging.