Let me start off by saying this – coffee and I go way back, like kindergarten back. I’d watch my mother drink the majority of a pot a day, and I’d obviously want some for myself. In an attempt to either humor me, shut me up, or both, my mom would pour me 1/4 of a glass of coffee and fill the other 3/4 with milk and sugar.
Her argument was that I shouldn’t because it would stunt my growth, and yet here I sit at 5 10″. Fast forward to one of my first jobs out of college – I would drink a large iced coffee with a shot of espresso (24 oz) after I drank my thermos of coffee I brought with me (also 24 oz) and then picked up a medium coffee (16 oz, I think?) on my lunch break. I am the main contributor to the economic success of Dunkin Donuts in the spring and summer of 2017. I like coffee. Coffee is family. I am this little boy, but with coffee (and also chicken nuggets, let’s be real)
DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NOT BEEN CONTACTED BY THE COMPANY THAT MAKES THIS PRODUCT TO WRITE THIS (YOU’LL SEE WHY, MY GUY) AND I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL REVIEW-ER.
I AM JUST ANTS IN MY EYES JOHNSON.
(Disclaimer-disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been at any time Ants In My Eyes Johnson…I think…I’m not 100% sure what we have here in stock because I can’t see anything…)
My parents mailed me this from Amazon.com (click to read reviews other than mine) in an attempt to get me to have a more balanced diet due to the whole poverty thing. So in terms of convenience of acquiring it, 5/5 for not having to leave my house and it showing up on my doorstep. Thank you, Interwebs. All good bloggers do reviews at some point or another, so this seemed like a good place to start.
Moving onto convenience of making it; you’re supposed to heat up an 8 oz cup of water, pour the packet in and mix it. Sounds simple enough. Warning: I did not think to take pictures of it while I did it, so allow me to illustrate to you with words the process.
I filled an 8 oz coffee mug with water and nuked it in the microwave – I don’t have teapot money, we’re in a recession. Seeming like it was hot enough, I put the cup down on my kitchen counter and ripped open the package to pour it in. The initial smell was that of the hot cocoa powder you get from the dollar store that you’ve seen sitting on the shelf every Christmas the past 7-9 years so you know for a damn fact that it’s past it’s expiration date. I feel like the legality of using the word “Arabica” in their marketing was overstepped and “a-bleh-bica” would be more applicable. I went to stir it, slowly, as Vietnam-grade flashbacks of choking on cocoa powder filling my lungs as a child came back to haunt me. After a few solid minutes, there were still chunks of …substance… floating on the top, followed by a weird milky colored foam setting as a top layer – I had not added any milk or cream. I paused, momentarily baffled by this, and tried nuking it another minute to see if making it hotter would make the …chunks… go away. It did! I’m a genius! Finally, my BA in Theatre and movie making paid off! I stirred it a final time and went to take a sip.
You know that taste you get in your mouth when you accidentally breathe a little too deeply near your car mechanic? That combination of gasoline, some dirt even though there’s no dirt on or near the property, the smell of the filter on the AC in their office that hasn’t been changed since your parents were worried that the “world wide webs” were going to implode on theirselves when the new millennia struck? That does not even begin to cover it.
After a few moments of making “baby-who-just-ate-a-lemon” face, I turned to my arch nemesis for some relief – milk. Milk is not like my family. Milk tastes so good, but hurts so bad. (I am lactose intolerant) I threw in a couple Splenda (yes I read the article that it can give you cancer, no I did not have a death wish until I drank this) for good measure in the hopes of washing the taste of battery acid out of my mouth.
If you were to take said dollar store cocoa 7-9 years past it’s expiration and then half of a bottle of your grandpa’s Creme De Menthe from the 1960’s (or my grandpa’s Creme De Menthe from the 1960’s, I’m amicable, I’ll share) – you’d still not even be close.
If you walked to and drank the corner of 14th and Broadway where all the hungover NYU kids spill their Venti-decaf-mocha-ginger-cinnamon-cruetly-free-skim-milk-hold-the-skim-milk-iced-but-not-too-much-ice-and-use-filtered-water-for-my-ice-andacroissanttoothanks Starbucks onto the street-corner filled with the rain from yesterday – you’d probably get Hepatitis B, but you’d also be a little bit closer.
In terms of the benefits of health, this stuff advertises it’s different than other “to go” coffee packets because it has 10 g of protein which is honestly great. If you’re any kind of vegetarian/vegan, or if you have the diet of an 18 year old who never paid attention in health class (me), it’s a quick and easy way to get a little boost without, you know, having to be an adult and cook things.
That being said, if you like your tastebuds it’s also a boost of licking the bottom of Bear Grylls’ boot. You know it’s all natural and has a bunch of nutrients on it, but god damn if it doesn’t make you want to wash your mouth out with my grandpa’s Creme De Menthe. (Anybody want some Creme De Menthe?)
Final thoughts: Be an adult. If you’re too lazy to spend 5 minutes brewing your own coffee, you’re not grown enough to drink coffee. There’s something to be said for the “on the go” convenience of it, but putting a cup under an AC hanging out of a window in Hell’s Kitchen would have the same effect and ultimate convenience.
PS – If you’ve found an actually decent “packet” coffee, hit me the fudge up.