Like most television shows, Cadbury Creme Eggs, and Krave Cereal, “Dry January” was started in the UK before being adopted a few years later in the United States. The temporary alcohol abstention movement — fueled partially, no doubt, by the unyielding power of social media — has become so trendy in the US that 19% of respondents to a 2022 Morning Consult poll said they planned on participating. (By, you know, not participating in drinking.)

Not wanting you to be forced into a joyless, totally booze-bereft existence, though, artisanal ice cream maker Van Leeuwen is here to tempt you with its newest novelty offering, Champagne. Unlike many of their other “limited edition” offerings, however, there are no peculiar mix-ins or “swirls,” no chunks of macaroni or pockets of pizza seasoning. Instead, you are presented with a very straightforward offering: champagne-flavored ice cream.

But so, here’s the thing — I got almost NO champagne flavor from this at all. As delightfully creamy as usual (they use lots and lots of egg yolks, which is how French ice cream becomes French, apparently), this tastes like an almost straightforward vanilla, but then, at the very, very back end, there’s a slightly sour punch that I associate with champagne. But honestly, it’s almost imperceptible. And actually, as someone who never cared for champagne before I quit drinking half a decade ago, I didn’t mind that this was largely a champagne-free affair. The real stuff used to give me heartburn and a headache; in ice cream form, it mostly made me feel bloated.

If you’re a big champagne consumer, though, or you’re desperately white-knuckling through Dry January and looking for some sort of respite, I don’t know that this will do it. And on that same note, if you’re looking for some wacky tasting dessert meant to illicit a fun reaction from unsuspecting eaters, again, better luck next time. If, however, you want a high quality vanilla ice cream with the very tiniest hint of something else at the end, knock yourself out. The added benefit, of course, is that you won’t actually end up knocking yourself out, which is, you know, always a possibility when real booze is involved. Or it was for me, at least. Hooray for sobriety!

Purchased Price: $4.98
Size: 14 fl oz
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (2/3 cup) 270 calories, 19 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 115 milligrams of cholesterol, 120 milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 21 grams of total sugars (15 grams of added sugar), and 5 grams of protein.

“I think it tastes like a garlic bagel with cream cheese,” whispered the conspiratorial cashier as I purchased my pint of Van Leeuwen’s new limited edition Glass Onion ice cream. Fittingly for a mystery film tie-in, this ice cream is a mystery flavor, but the genre that was more on my mind was horror. Rest assured, though, that this flavor’s name is not a red herring — it assaults you with an overwhelming odor of onion as soon as you peel open the pint.

Pushing onwards to investigate the scene of what some might call a food crime, I noted the ice cream base seemed to be vanilla, streaked with a viscous dark brown swirl. Before my first spoonful even made it to my mouth, I was impressed by its soft-but-not-airy, velvety-but-not-heavy texture that hinted at high quality.

If I had to sum the taste up in one word (other than “HUH?”), it would be “complex.” The foremost flavor was undeniably — and unsurprisingly — the prominent and dominant onion, which seemed to originate from the gooey, gluey swirl and was potent with a faintly acrid aftertaste that was welcome amidst the decadent vanilla’s silky sweetness. I couldn’t quite pinpoint the rest of the swirl’s unusual (or onionusual) taste, but it seemed to have notes of both sweet and savory, which made me guess that it involved sea salt caramel. I was genuinely shocked and delighted when, after I’d finally gotten acclimated to this strange but also strangely addictive flavor, a scoop of what had been heretofore smooth suddenly also included a brittle chunk of… something.

I’m betting that this mysterious mix-in was intentionally hidden deeper in the pint to add an element of surprise. I detected some sugariness and crispiness that made me think of honeycomb, and also made me eager to find another of these pieces. But as my ice cream rapidly melted, I encountered no more of the cryptic crispies, only a series of increasingly oversaturated patches of swirl that tasted like straight-up onion powder, but with odd, extremely intense notes of tartness and acidity that reminded me of balsamic vinegar. Once the vanilla ice cream had become too soupy to be an adequate counterbalance, the omnipresent onion just became overpoweringly gross. On that low note, I headed to Google so I could more thoroughly curse the culprit behind this fetid frenzy of flavors.

It turns out that this is vanilla ice cream with Greek yogurt, bourbon caramelized onion jam, and – yes!!!! – crystallized honeycomb candy (I guess I just got an extremely sparse batch). Like any satisfying mystery, the clues are all clear in hindsight: I can see now how the Greek yogurt was what provided that inexplicable tartness, while the swirl’s ambiguous flavor profile and consistency do, in retrospect, seem quite jammy, and hey, I at least get some partial credit for picking up on an element of caramel, right?

I’d like to end this review by quoting another beloved piece of cinema: Shrek, where the metaphor “Onions have layers” is used to remind us that even weird things are always more nuanced than they appear. Much like onions (and ogres), Glass Onion ice cream certainly does have layers, but I can understand why some might not want to experience them. Now that I’ve cracked the case, I can’t see any reason to ever revisit this product myself. Hopefully the movie fares better!

Purchased Price: $10.50
Size: 14 oz
Purchased at: Van Leeuwen
Rating: 6 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (2/3 cup) 250 calories, 14 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 85 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 24 grams of sugar (including 18 grams of added sugar), and 4 grams of protein.

After toiling away on reviews of Van Leeuwen’s seasonal offerings (this past Summer’s releases and the very recent Fall releases), I finally got my hands on one of the “weird” ones. And while I haven’t even actually tried one of the previous novelty concoctions, I’ve read and watched enough reviews that I get the gist: the pizza, Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and Grey Poupon ice creams all taste exactly like what they’re supposed to taste like, it’s honestly not as off-putting as the reviewer thought it would be, and they’re glad they tried it but probably wouldn’t do it again.

So, then, what about Van Leeuwen’s Mexican Hot Chocolate featuring Tapatio Hot Sauce? Would it follow this extremely established and scientifically vetted pattern?

Not really. I’ll explain.

First, I didn’t think it sounded very off-putting at all, really, maybe owing to the fact that, unlike pizza or cheesy pasta, hot chocolate (even spicy hot chocolate) is already pretty dessert-y.

Second, I’ve never actually had Mexican hot chocolate, so I cannot tell you whether the taste of the ice cream mimics the beverage in question. What I can tell you is that, 1) there was a lake of fudge, 2) there was a mountain of marshmallows, and 3) the ice cream was standard chocolate, until, you know, the heat.

And let’s talk about the heat. I wouldn’t call it a distinctly Tapatio taste, at least not at first. Things get warm with the first bite, sure, starting in the back of the throat where your swallow bones are located. Then it spreads forward like an army of angry villagers carrying torches up to the tip of your tongue. While I never found myself needing to drink milk and/or blow my nose, I could feel it up through my sinuses after only a minute or two. And it stayed. After a while, though, the vinegary flavor of the Tapatio began to register. That wasn’t my favorite part, honestly, but I will say that it made for a good place to stop my consumption.

Up to that point, it was all quite enjoyable. The marshmallows and fudge were very reminiscent of Van Leeuwen’s Campfire S’mores, which I absolutely loved. (I’m not sure anyone in the freezer aisle does those two inclusions better than Van Leeuwen, honestly.) The ice cream, too, was nice; I’ve not previously had their chocolate base, and they do it well.

This brings me to the third point of the review pattern: Jun K. Reviewer thought it was fine and interesting and all, but they wouldn’t eat it again. And, okay. Maybe I’m in agreement here. While this is a perfectly fine ice cream, I’m not sure if the mood will ever strike me to buy it again. I guess maybe I’m just not a “spicy chocolate” person. But maybe you are! And I feel like if you are, there’s a good chance you’ll really like what they’ve done here.

Purchased Price: $4.98
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (2/3 cup) 280 calories, 14 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 60 milligrams of cholesterol, 130 milligrams of sodium, 36 grams of carbohydrates,0 grams of fiber, 30 grams of sugar (18 grams added sugar), 4 grams of protein.

Update 9/9/22: We also tried the Tapatio Mexican Hot Chocolate one! Click here to read our review.

Don’t look now, but the madmen and madladies in the Van Leeuwen Ice Cream flavor factory are at it again. From the demented dessert doctors who previously brought you Mac & Cheese, Pizza, and mustard-inspired ice creams comes their new limited edition Fall offerings at Walmart that are positively… pedestrian?

Well, mostly pedestrian.

See, there’s a Mexican Hot Chocolate version featuring Tapatio Hot Sauce (which wasn’t available during my first Walmart visit, but psssst, check back here in a day or two.) The fact is, other than the Sweet Potato and Marshmallow Casserole variety, these are all kind of straightforward. They even snuck in a Strawberry release (which I couldn’t find, so it’s not reviewed here) and the only weird thing about it is that “strawberry” is one of the least fall flavors imaginable.

Before I tried each flavor myself, and for no real reason other than “this might be funny,” I did a blind taste test with three children — my daughter (Stella, 8) and two of her friends (Emrie, 7, and her sister Norah, 5). “From the mouths of babies,” or whatever that saying is.

Wildberry Layer Cake

While I couldn’t distinguish individual berry flavors, this was overtly berryish. There weren’t really any large chunks, but almost every bite was fruitful. The yellow cake was there, but it didn’t do much, flavor-wise. Texturally, it added an odd chew; it frankly seemed like an unnecessary inclusion. Norah shouted, “RASPBERRY BREAD!” And one of the other two made a puking noise. I actually enjoyed it a bit more than “puking noise.”

Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (2/3 cup) 270 calories, 16 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 95 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 24 grams of sugar (18 grams of added sugar), and 4 grams of protein.

Hazelnut Fudge Cookie

Okay, so the kids’ reviews on this one ranged from “it tastes red” (?) to “cinnamon? Or chocolate-vanilla-banana!” Kids are bad at this. Anyway, the fudge here is overwhelming, but in a delightful way. (But is there any other way for fudge to be overwhelming?) That said, I couldn’t detect much in the way of hazelnut. The “cookies,” according to the label, are “Speculoos,” which I had to Google. They are a “Belgian shortbread biscuit” with a gingerbread-like flavor. Mostly, they just tasted like crumbled-up cookie bits. Still a winner, though.

Rating: 8 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (2/3 cup) 310 calories, 17 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 85 milligrams of cholesterol, 180 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 27 grams of sugar (22 grams of added sugar), and 5 grams of protein.

Sweet Potato Marshmallow Casserole

The one I expected to like the least turned out to be my favorite. With whole mini marshmallows (taking me back to their Campfire S’mores variety, which I passionately love) and mild notes of cinnamon and caramel that carry throughout, SPMC is creamy and sweet and sinfully delicious, a surprise given that I generally don’t care for the actual Thanksgiving side dish. All of the girls picked up on the caramel and marshmallows (obvious flavors), and they all loved it until I told them what it was. Then it was “disgusting” and “are you kidding me?!” Kids are the worst.

Rating: 9 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (2/3 cup) 290 calories, 15 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 85 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 36 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 33 grams of sugar (20 grams of added sugar), and 4 grams of protein.

Pumpkin Cinnamon Roll

And now, the one that I was expecting to like the most, but… okay, well, I didn’t like it the least, but I will say that I was pretty disappointed. See, I’m a Pumpkin Guy. I’m a Cinnamon Roll Guy. Ergo… I mean, come on! But here’s the deal— there was a TON of caramel. And that’s fine, but what WASN’T fine was the complete lack of pumpkin. And while there were cinnamon roll bits, they were small and muted in taste, leaving me once again pining for my beloved Ben & Jerry’s Cinnamon Buns (aka the worst discontinuation they’ve ever made). On paper, this had the chance to be amazing. In reality, it was only meh. One of the girls said it tasted like “caramel corn,” and my daughter, weirdly, said this one sounded gross. Like… the actual sound in the bowl. Yeah, I don’t know.

Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (2/3 cup) 300 calories, 17 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 85 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 35 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 29 grams of sugar (24 grams of added sugar), and 4 grams of protein.

Purchased Price: $4.98 each
Size: 1 pint
Purchased at: Walmart