Thursday afternoon I went to Publix to pick up a lunchtime waffle chicken tender sub (this is new and exciting), and on my way to the checkout I decided to shoot down the cookie aisle to make sure I hadn't missed any important new releases. I felt kind of bad about not reviewing those new Lays flavors, but I really didn't want to buy four bags of chips I knew I wouldn't love, only to eat them out of guilt because I was raised in a house where one did not waste food.
It's a good thing I checked, as Oreo has apparently forgotten all about me. (I'm assuming it's because they didn't like my Oreo Snack Hacks review, but if that is the price of "integrity" so be it. Also, it's probably just because they forgot about me.)
I haven't seen any press about these limited edition bad boys. I've been trying to do better at keeping up on these matters, checking Eater semi-regularly and whatnot, but somehow these slipped by my notice.
NO MATTER. They are mine now, and I will tell you exactly what I think of them.
Upon first opening the package, you will notice the definite scent of root beer, depending on how close the package is to your face and whether or not you are in an enclosed space (I was in a car and they were in my lap, so I got a good whiff). Now, to be fair, root beer is not exactly a hard smell/flavor to create -- you just need some sassafras. (Upon further research, I have discovered that due to sassafras "maybe being a carcinogen, perhaps," it's not really used anymore, except in small-scale situations.)
Point is, these definitely smell like root beer, specifically root beer soda. There is a sharp quality to them that creates a sensation not unlike sniffing a carbonated beverage.
It's the same old boring golden cookie, and I'm a little disappointed by this. I feel like they missed a real opportunity here; a little artificial vanilla flavoring -- I say "artificial" because you know they're not going to pay the big bucks for the real stuff -- would go a long way here. Oh well, if there's no discernible vanilla in the cookie, there had better be some in the white cream.
NOPE. It's the same basic, flavorless (but sweet) cream we all know and love. Usually, this wouldn't upset me in the slightest, but a root beer float needs vanilla, otherwise there is no ice cream component. A few vanilla bean flecks would have really driven home the whole "float" concept, and I'm having a hard time getting past this misstep.
The root beer cream itself (the brown portion) is somewhat thicker and a little chalkier than its pale friend, but the root beer flavor is there in all of its artificial glory; it's like solidified A&W. Again, Oreo somehow managed to convey carbonation; I'm not sure how they did it, but it's quite slick.
Upon first inspection, it seems that there is way more white stuff than brown stuff, but this is due to some kind of diagonal application on the part of the manufacturers. Thank god, because the only thing that keeps these from being regular Golden Oreos is that brown stuff, and it would be a pity if they skimped on it.
Though Nabisco knocked it out of the park with the root beer aspect of this cookie, I'm really bummed by the lack of vanilla. If and when I get past that, I'm pretty sure I will find this to be a fairly enjoyable cookie, but I'm still hurting a little. They are also a little too sweet to eat more than a couple every 12 hours, but that's probably for the best.
Would I Buy Them Again?
No. Contrary to popular belief, I rarely buy Oreos. If I am going to buy them, they are going to be the original and I am going to eat 12 with boxed wine while watching "Pretty Little Liars" because my husband is out of town and I turn into a creature when left by myself. I always buy the original, because they are the best.
So while these are a great gimmick, I don't feel the need to run out and stock up. A taste was enough. I just wanted a taste.
If you see a new food you think Claire should be aware of, please tweet it at her, if you don't mind. @clairelizzie