But the design is quite sharp, if not busy, but that is obviously due to the very small real estate the seven and a half ounce packaging provides. Or at least, that is what my eyes first tell me: the more I let them wander, the less I enjoy it. The Oreo logo looks out-of-place with its usual blue and white coloring, and is far too small compared to Coke's. And then there is the perspective of the cookies themselves, which appear from the bottom, where as everything else is straight-on. Does that make any sense? Maybe not, sigh, I am not sure it matters.
The petite can cracks open like any other, but pours out slightly darker, with a bit of cacao in the air as you breath through your nose. Lifting up the tiny metal and taking that critical first sip, the brown concoction struggles to let the Coca-Cola shine through. This obnoxious overture instead goes all-in with dessert impulse, losing any sense of spice or citrus in favor of contrivances. My palate could not detect the presence of actual Oreo, but instead a most generic chocolate, complete with an aftertaste that continues to stain your palate of its sham cocoa persona far longer than it ever should. Ace-k, aspartame and sucralose are the trilogy of synthetic sugars on patrol today, but they clearly are not real carbohydrates, your tongue is smarter than that, and they simply cannot impersonate that unhealthy gratification one gets from traditional pop. Or an actual fondant-filled cookie. Completing the unpleasant performance is a slight creaminess, achieved obviously without dairy (this is sugar free, you know), but this milkiness lacks the honesty of actual moo juice, so mouthfuls die an early death, leaving behind a chemical stigma that no amount of subsequent sips could wash away.
But before we close, we first should take a small detour to the cookie themselves; yes, they also made a Coca-Cola based Oreo, complete with popping candies. The little pucks resemble the classic sandwich favorite, but sport a red half and an interior filling speckled with little crimson dots. The scent is unlike the caramel colored cocktail inspiration, sniffing indistinctly fruit, with notes of cherry, lime and pineapple. The calorie-ridden cookie crunches like you would expect, heavier on that famous cocoa of its biscuit origin than the the soda this whole crossover bothers with, though as you chew through the crumbly confection, lemon patiently creeps through to your tongue. A hit of cinnamon seals the deal as the two-layered wafer dissolves on your palate, but I ate what must have been half of my daily recommended intake of sugar and nary did any vanilla come out to play. I was initially disappointed until I ceased my chompers, when the fizzy sweetmeats added just enough lingering complexity that it satisfyingly spoofs actual effervescence. All the elements work overall but not individually, which is fine, I guess, since this is a limited time product.
Anyway, back to the potation, I mean, this ain't "The Kookie King." Neither the soda nor cookie are healthy, but hey, at least one of them is diet! (Try telling your doctor that.) We have twenty one grams of caffeine in the thin aluminum transport too, so good luck trying to replace your morning cup of coffee. Unless you drink like a half-dozen of these, and have dead taste buds.
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