

Yeah. Kool-Aid Man.

In case you read Chinese, you will see that this pic is not only (grimly) funny, but beverage-related.
If you call that stuff a ‘beverage’.

The bag lists the ingredients as: “High Altitude Organic Arabica Coffee and Piñon Nuts – May Contain Flavoring” (Germanic capitalization style theirs)
But it should read: “High Altitude Organic Arabica Coffee and Flavoring – May Not Contain Piñon Nuts”
This is such a let down. I was really excited for the idea of roasted piñon in my coffee.
But, no. This is just typical flavored stuff… the likes of which can be found oilily auto-dripping at half past eight on Thursday morning under the shrill whine of flickering fluorescent lights that reluctantly illuminate the slightly soiled, threadbare cubicle walls of an insurance agent’s inner suburban office in a half-abandoned strip mall.
Mundane is what I mean. Not delicious – and, critically, NO PINE NUTS IN EVIDENCE. And I dug around in the bag as if for a Cracker Jack prize.
I won’t hold it against you, New Mexico.

Oh! It’s supposed to resemble a battery! I see it now!
A 24 ounce battery full of corn syrup and other questionable ingredients. Yes.
I drank it in one sitting. Not from enthusiasm over the flavor. I miss Jolt’s more honest ’80s formulation, though not necessarily its ’80s fanbase.
okay – lies.
To learn about the real mauby drink, read my previous entry —> here.
Then file this one under “how could it possibly fail?“. (Take the Ali G./Chomsky interview as another example).

This “Mabi”™ branding of traditional mabi/mauby is part of a shameful attempt to popularize the nichey Caribbean drink. Naturally, if you want to remake an already amazing product, you simply add a lot of corn syrup. Then you pasteurize it. Ta-da! You’ve lost all that “Authentic Caribbean Flavor” you mentioned in your slogan, but you gained a saucy bikini model somehow…

This Delaware Punch must’ve been really something, once upon a time. People still pine for it, and chase it down by keeping track of who currently stocks it – even though it’s a widely-acknowledged shadow of what it once was. People import it from Mexico, despite the allegation that it contains a potentially harmful colorant (it’s banned by the FDA/US Customs).
People order Delaware Punch concentrate so they can make it at home!
Some crazies even bottle a replica drink in light of the lack of availability/quality of the ‘official’ beverage.
The descendants of the creator of Delaware Punch maintain a freaking fan website.
W T F is going on here ? !

Look at that logo. Wow.
All this ruckus, and the stuff isn’t even carbonated. Now it’s owned by Coke, and its flavor reflects that fact.
Not impressed.
Available only in a couple of the Gulf states. Woo.

In a further attempt at understanding the travails of the digestively impaired, I tried a lactose-free, cocoa-flavored rendition of this popular beverage. Not for the first time, but definitely for the last.
Imagine (in order of appearance) corn oil + corn syrup + ‘vitamin taste’ + cocoa powder.
I know that this is a helpful little “chocolate shake”… but I’m sure that anyone who must drink the stuff for any duration becomes quickly oblivious to the vexing falsehood of Ensure’s slogan.

Not much to say, but FUCK YES – B A N A N A S O D A .
Years ago, when I was in charming Cheboksary, Chuvashia, the maid at my little hotel calculated (by how many ‘empties’ were cluttering up my room each day) that I had fallen in love with the local banana soda. Thenceforth, she left a new bottle on my pillow every morning. Such a sweet lady! Little did she consider the deleterious day-glo, Soviet-era petrochemicals that made up the recipe. No bananas.
Now, again – with no banana trees anywhere in evidence – Cretans can safely peddle a similar soda as “banana flavour” without contest. This bolsters Epimenides’ paradox some (“Κρῆτες ἀεί ψεύσται“) as well as providing an unfortunate aftertaste – but I don’t care about all that. I LOVE IT.

Can’t you tell?
It’s difficult to find a good bag of potato chips.
There are these ‘Taste of Mediterranean’ chips I see around, with really pandering flavors like “oregano” and “olive oil” and “feta” and “tzatziki”. Read the back and see the PEPSI logo. Similarly, you have Tsakiris chips, which are wholly owned by Coca-Cola. It’s like the cola wars all over again, but crunchy. I won’t take a side – I can’t stand either chip.
At my favorite market-cum-hotel lobby, I wind my way through about one hundred glassy-eyed, Ukrainian HERBALIFE devotees to find the same old lame chips, but a new drink on the shelves!
The LAGI website is downdead (naturally) so here is a screenshot:

Direct from Tbilisi for all the local Caucasian help, this bottle of Lagi lemonade promises that it’s a “GENUINE PRODUCT” right on the label.
It tastes like perfume and is almost undrinkable, but I don’t care.
A cached version of the website says about Lagi beverages: “They are made with new individual receipts and Georgian ancient traditions.” (sicsicsic)
Like the ancient Georgian tradition of going out of business?
Alright!!!