Joia Lime, Hibiscus, and Clove

There are many examples of excellent three-flavor combinations. Bacon, eggs, and orange juice. Brown sugar, vanilla, and lemon. Pineapple, orange, and guava. Garlic, mushrooms, and butter. Larry, Moe, and Curly. Barbecue sauce, chicken, and red onion.

It may be worth noting that none of these would make good Weird sodas. Whether this is due to some inherent mathematical incompatibility between Weird soda and the three-ness of such flavor combinations is unclear. Pairs of flavors seem to work well; Weird soda is inherently quadratic, rather than cubic?

Those people with normal senses of aesthetics learn to pay attention to such laws. Indeed, a sense of aethetics might be argued to be inherently dependent on their observance--or carefully balanced violation. But the world of Weirdness must not be held back by such constraints. It must stride boldly forward, unhesitatingly violating such quaint concepts as balance, proportion, and good taste. And that brings us to tonight's review: Joia Lime, Hibiscus, and Clove soda.

There are, as we have discussed before, multiple schools of Weirdness. When I can, I prefer to dip my toes in the sweet streams of fruit and cream sodas. However, a growing subsector seems to consist of sodas whose sole purpose in existence is to combine odd fruit, herbal, and other flavors* in novel and ill-advised combinations. Usually in threes.

Where and when: Purchased April 2013 at Frazier Farms, Vista, CA
Color: Transparent, ever so slightly yellowish-greenish. The color of pale, sun-dried hay.
Scent: Faint, cool, a bit of citrus, and a hint of floor cleaner. I'm not sure what that last is; volatile and spicy.
Nazgul: "I know I've smelled it before." Given the state of the Lab floors, this is unlikely.
Taste: Hmmm...mmm...blech. Let's see--the first taste is citrus, strong and a bit lemony. The hibiscus comes through clearly. However, what happens next is less than ideal.
My mouth becomes slightly dry, and an odd taste spreads through it--a bit like alcohol, a bit spicy. Maybe a bit reminiscent of dry champagne. Not good.

Kibbitzer in Chief: "Nice. It's clean, bright, and textured."

I swear that this woman and I have a great deal in common.

K-i-C: "It tastes like it should be alcoholic, though."
Nazgul: "Very sour, but with a weird sweetness, too."

So the Kibbitzer-in-Chief, whose aesthetic sense is generally considered a squillion times better than my own, likes this one. Let's consult Olorin; he also has a finely developed sense of balance, proportion, and beauty in all things.

Olorin: "Mmmmm! That's really good!"

Well, crud. Okay, I'm a buffoon.

Quaff rating: I must be true to myself. 2.5.
Cough rating: 1. The floor-cleaner part is icky.

*The term is loosely defined here; it's only a matter of time before Weird sodas come in "coal", "breath-of-a-mermaid", and "esprit de corps" varieties.

DRY Soda: Wild Lime and Cucumber

That's not "Wild Lime and Cucumber", by the way...it's two sodas, "Wild Lime" and "Cucumber". Although Wild Lime and Cucumber would probably be pretty good.

Hello, all. We've been gone for some time. There are a variety of reasons, involving switching domain registrars, defending the Lab from alien attack, and the Great Soda Kablooie of 2013*.

But we're back! I don't know how much longer the Lab will be in business, but for now we're still going. And a good thing too, because we recently found some new offerings from DRY soda company which simply must be quaffed, and without delay. Specifically, we'll be reviewing their Wild Lime flavor, followed by Cucumber.

We've reviewed several DRY Soda flavors in the past, including Kumquat, Juniper Berry, Rhubarb, Vanilla Bean, Lemongrass, and Lavender. They've been intriguing, and sometimes good. Vanilla Bean and Kumquat both made our "Quaffiest" list. Interestingly, so did Mr. Q Cumber, which might indicate that tonight's flavor convergence will produce a mutant beverage of unspeakable savoriness.

We'll start with Wild Lime.

DRY tends to go for "just barely sweet", unusual flavors. Lime isn't particularly unusual, but "Wild Lime" is an unknown quantity. What, we wonder, makes it Wild? Will we be treated to "Fruits Gone Wild 3: Tropical Titillation"?*** Or is this the unknown character from Maurice Sendak's lesser-known sequel book "Where the Wild Things Are Making Pies"?

There's only one way to find out.

Where and when: Purchased at Frazier Farms, Vista, CA, in April 2013.
Color: Clear, no color at all. Well, Nazgul and Olorin both assure me it's faintly green, but they're nuts.
Scent: Distinctly lime, not a lot of sweetness, but some. A little reminiscent of lime jelly candy, but less sweet.
Nazgul: "Smells like the lime juice you put on Dutch babies."****
Taste: Wet. The company name is still misleading.
Olorin: "Kind of like Sprite, but less sweet. Maybe." Olorin is as decisive in his commentary as usual.
It's kind of reminiscent of the unsweetened but citrus-oil-infused sparkling waters you can get. Just a bit sweeter than that. Pleasant.
Olorin: "I like it. It tastes like kryptonite."
Nazgul: "[It] doesn't really taste like much."

I can imagine this being sipped leisurely on a shady porch on a hot day, but "wild" it is not.

Quaff rating: 4. Pretty nice, actually.
Cough rating: 0. Nothing offensive here.


Okay, so that was...pretty good actually. I have high hopes for the Cucumber.
Where and when: Purchased at Frazier Farms, Vista, CA, in April 2013.
Color: Also clear. No obvious color. Nazgul agrees in this case.
Olorin: "It's practically completely opaque!"

This is worth a moment of explanation. Olorin feels it to be his sacred duty to disagree with Nazgul at every conceivable opportunity, even if such disagreement flies in the face of obvious evidence, logic, or physical laws. I envision future conversations along these lines:

Nazgul: "Hey, look. I had one orange, and Granny gave me another orange. I have two oranges."
Olorin: "No you don't. You have forty-eight pineapples."

Olorin has actually invented--on the fly--alternative and clearly incorrect mathematical systems for the sole purpose of annoying Nazgul (and, not coincidentally, me) by claiming to have proven assertions like the one above.

Scent:Hmm. That's really odd. I guess it does kind of smell like cucumber. Vegetal, a bit sweet. Kind of fascinating, actually. Ever so slightly peppery in the top of the nose.

Nazgul: "I've never liked cucumber."
Olorin: "It smells like platypus bladder."
Nazgul: *gives him an incredulous look*
Olorin: "What? You don't know what platypus bladder smells like?"
Nazgul: *continues incredulous look*
Olorin: *smacks Nazgul on the head*

Taste:I have to hand it to DRY Soda--that actually tastes a lot like cucumber. Remarkably accurate--just the tiniest bit sweeter, but barely perceptibly so.

Olorin: "It tastes like WOOOOOOOO cucumber! Kind of like with a cross with centipede Bertie Botts."
Kibbitzer: "Tastes like cucumber, but not in that good farmer's-market-cucumber-agua-fresca way. You know how when you buy cucumber seeds, you can buy burpless cucumber seeds? That's not this."

Honestly, I enjoyed the lime more, although this has to get points for accuracy. Whether that's a good thing, I don't know, but it's Weird, so yay!

Quaff rating: 2.5. Drinking a liquidated carbonated cucumber is not entirely a good thing.
Cough rating: 0.5. While it's not actually offensive, any vegetable-flavored soda has to get something here.

* One of these is, in technical terms, strictly speaking, not entirely true.**
** This statement is a slight understatement.
*** No comment.
**** For those who don't know, and are thus preparing to report us to the authorities: a Dutch baby is a sort of popover, yummy with powdered sugar and citrus juice.

Scotty's Butterscotch Soda

The second soda in today's dual review (following Sweet Corn) is Scotty's Butterscotch Soda.

This time it's the one on the right. Well, the soda's left. I mean, the left from the perspective of the soda, not "The Soda Has Left". It does have a left, of course, but there's nothing there. Except that there is something to the left of the soda, if by left I mean your left, and by soda I mean the one on the right. Your right. There's nothing on the right of the soda on the left, if by right I mean its right and by left I mean your left. Right?

Now, while we have established (in the Sweet Corn review) that this is probably not Scotsman-flavored; it seems more likely that this is a butterscotch soda, perhaps similar to the other such one we've tried. However, there are a few noteworthy things about this soda's label. First, it features two pictures: a bagpipe-playing kilt-clad man (presumably Scotty, although he is not claiming that "the bottle cannae take much more!") and a stick of butter. Just under the butter is a label, claiming that it is "Pure Cane Sugar".

The kilt-clad man, unfortunately, bears no such helpful label. Although I suppose it would probably read "Timing Belt".

I sincerely hope that the makers of this beverage do not believe that the pictured substance is, in fact, sugar; if that is the case, this will probably taste nothing at all like I expect.

Second, it claims to be "From the King's Castle". Unfortunately, as far as I can tell, Scotland does not have a king at the moment (and according to Wikipedia, what it does have is a "devolved government within a monarchy". Whether the Scots have devolved is a question I'd better not try to address.) They haven't had a king since 1952. So this is old soda. Oh boy.

Where and when: Purchased from Rocket Fizz in Vista, CA.

Color: Slightly orange, mostly yellow, a tiny bit cloudy. Disturbingly urineish.

Scent: Butterscotch, strong vanilla notes, a drone of sugar.

Taste: Hmm. Not bad at all. Clearly butterscotch, with a lot of vanilla and caramel, and (to my surprise) a pleasant toasty flavor. Almost like a toasted marshmallow, which goes perfectly with the butter and caramel. Aftertaste is mildly acidic, but not very strongly, and fades relatively quickly. Quite a pleasant surprise.

I would happily have more of this.

Quaff rating: 3.5. Pretty tasty, surprisingly complex. Love the toasty flavor.
Cough rating: 0. Really, nothing to object to.

Lester's Fixings Sweet Corn

Kibbitzer-in-Chief: "If you drink them together, do you get kettle corn?"

I think it could be argued that, for any combination of sodas, if such a question can be asked in a sensible way, you can assume that they're BOTH weird.

The Kibbitzer has been suggesting* that I do some more reviews, and as it turns out, I do have a couple of good ones. We'll deal with them in two separate reviews, I think. The first is another from Lester's Fixings, the source of a whole variety of things which should not be soda flavors. Today's is Sweet Corn.

This review is about the one on the left. Well, your left. I mean, when you're looking at the picture. If you were in the picture, it'd be on your right. So your left, but only where you are now. Unless you're behind the screen--then it's the one on your right.

There's a part of me which thinks that Lester's Fixings is cheating--that they are making sodas like this just to bait me. I mean, who in their right minds thinks that corn** would make a good soda flavor?

But then, I think of Hello Kitty Ramune, and realize that unless there is a vast international conspiracy (headquartered in Japan) to make bizarre soda flavors solely to keep blogs like this going, I must conclude that--in fact--Lester's Fixings is crewed by some sort of demented gnomes who (amid chortlings and cacklings and chants) come up with Sodas Which Seem Like A Good Idea At The Time.

In which case, I suppose they could be worse. Wasabi Lubricant Soda, for example.

Where and when: purchased at Rocket Fizz, Vista, CA
Color: Really incredibly yellow.
Scent: K-i-C: "Oh my God. Is it buttered?"
That's remarkable. It smells almost exactly like a freshly opened can of sweet kernel maize***. Which is a smell I like when opening such a can. Here, I'm not so sure.
K-i-C (sitting 5 feet away): "It reeks. From here."

Taste: Well, there's something you don't taste every day. Okay, let's see...it's sweet. Very sweet. Slightly buttery. And maize-ish. It's not bulgur wheat, or soybean, or even sorghum. This is a reasonably accurate creamed corn flavor.
I really have to hand it to the cackling gnomes at Lester's Fixings. They manage accuracy, God help us all. I can't even honestly say I dislike it.

Me: "Hey, guys! There's a Weird Soda here for you to try!"
*sounds of Nazgul and Olorin desperately trying to hide, or dig under the fence to freedom*

I managed to get them to try it.
Nazgul: *grimacing in despair* "Oh...no."
Olorin: "Actually, I kind of like it. Can I have the rest of this cup?"

I see a great future for you, Olorin. How's your cackle?

Quaff rating: 3. It's really not bad, and certainly interesting. Bonus points for accuracy.
Cough rating: 1.5. It's corn, for the love of all that's holy.

* She would like to have some of the space in the kitchen back, I guess.

** Pedantry: Apparently, the term "corn" does not actually necessarily refer to the grain we in the States usually mean. The term can refer to whatever grain is most commonly used as a feed grain in a given region. What we in the states call "corn" is more accurately referred to as "maize". Now, it might be reasonable to assume that by "Sweet Corn", this soda means maize, an assumption supported further by the substantial picture of maize kernels on the label. However, keep in mind the logical consequences of such a supposition; today's other soda features only a picture of a kilt-clad man playing bagpipes, and is labeled "Scotty's". Given the same logic which leads us to believe that this must be a maize-based soda, we are forced to assume that the other soda today is Scotsman-flavored. And that, my friends, is a sanity-shaking possibility I am not prepared to contemplate for even a moment, given that I plan to drink it.

I think it's safer for us to assume that this soda might just as easily be barley, wheat, or amaranth-flavored.

See how logical and scientific we are here at the Lab?

*** Accuracy, my friends. Accuracy above all!

Jones Soda Giles's Grape Potion

The Weird Soda Review Lab is not only dedicated to discovering Weird beverages; we also enjoy Weird movies and TV. Recently, Olorin and the Kibbitzer-in-Chief have been making their way through Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Joss Whedon's magnificent multi-season epic. Seeing them watching an episode recently reminded me that I had several bottles of Buffy-themed sodas from Jones Soda, makers of all sorts of strange drinks. We should get to those!

I had never noticed that Giles wasn't on the Buffy Season 3 box. Well, now I can take care of that.

Where and when: Ordered from Amazon (I think) a while ago.
Color: pale, transparent purple.
Scent: Faint, popsicle-y grape. Fairly tart, pleasant, synthetic. Reminiscent of Welch's grape soda from my poolside childhood days.
Taste: Unremarkable but nice. Not a very strong taste. More tart than sweet, synthetic grape, and that's about it. Really, this is only Weird from the label.

Now, if you've watched Buffy, you know that Giles is a noble, courageous, and brilliant man, who is nevertheless not exactly the life of the party. We love him, we admire him, and we would probably avoid trying to do karaoke with him.

This is a well-named soda.

Afterburp: A tiny bit more interesting, with more volatile flavors evident. That's kind of a disgusting thing to write.

Quaff rating: 2.5. Just not very interesting, and I don't feel like a stevedore.
Cough rating: 0. Nothing to object to.


EDIT, LATER: It is probably worth noting that I am now in big trouble with the Kibbitzer-in-Chief, who is very upset that I implied that Giles was boring and fake. For the record, please let me clarify: I think Giles is terrific, and did not mean to imply that he was insincere or dishonest. I'm sure that a scholarly discussion with him would be very stimulating. However, he doesn't make me sit up and go "wow!".

Buffy's mother might have a different opinion, of course. If she offers to do a review, I'll post it.

Belvoir Elderflower Presse

Once again, the Lab is facing a backlog of soda. What can we say? There are other pressures* even on the life of a Quaffmaster, and though braving the heights and depths of Weird sodadom and penning epistles for you who seek the vicarious experience of imbibing is my deepest calling, I cannot utterly ignore all other demands for my time**.

Thus, as though a Mentos had been dropped in the Diet Coke of the life of the Lab, we must attempt to relieve the growing pressure of Weirdness before it explodes into a sticky flood of bubbly broubaha***.

Fortunately, I have high hopes that today's item will be a pleasant experience.

Belvoir Elderflower, here depicted next to actual elderflowers. It's kind of like a family portrait.

We've reviewed one other elderflower soda--Sweet Blossom Elderflower. It was fantastic, and still ranks amongst my favorite Weird sodas of all time. Good science practice, however, demands that we assess other elderflower beverages to determine whether the exquisite flavor of the Sweet Blossom was due to the presence of elderflower, or some other unidentified factor.

Enter Belvoir Elderflower Pressé.

I'm not actually sure what a "pressé" is. My mind, of course, imagines elderflowers being picked, arranged on some sort of sluice, and smacked Muppahone-like with mallets****. This is admittedly unlikely. Let's see if the bottle label holds any clues.

First, the label appears to be real paper; it's thin, and wrinkly where moisture has caused it to peel a bit. On the back, it becomes clear that this is from England, and it claims to contain fresh, hand-picked elderflowers. Seeing none floating in the bottle, I have to assume that it is more like a tea made from said elderflowers (although I note that a Muppaphone-type apparatus is not ruled out; it would presumably have an English accent). The ingredients list includes only water, sugar, elderflowers, and lemon juice. Spiffy!

Bonus points: the little drawing of elderflowers on the label is pretty realistic.

Where and when:  To be honest, I can't remember.
Color: Transparent, slightly yellow tinge.
Scent: Flowery, slightly tart, sweet. A bit like a very sweet, milder lavender. Pleasant.
Olorin: "Kind of like honeysuckle pear-y lemon."

Taste: Much more sour than the smell; the lemon juice is prominent, but not unpleasant. The sweet, flowery smell is very pleasant in the taste. It's quite strong; this is potent stuff, much more so than the sedate label would suggest. Really, the overwrought labels and names of American sodas (e.g. the various "EXTREME!" Mountain Dew variants) would be better applied here, as this has more of a bold, strong taste than most of those. However, given that it's a British label, it'd have to be different.

I'm envisioning a formal English garden, tended by a grandmotherly woman in a bonnet, who is trimming the gardenias with a six-foot serrated broadsword from the sidecar of a motorcycle driven by Ozzy Osbourne. The title:

Belvoir Fruit Farms

X-TREME ELDERFLOWER PRESSÉ

"It's practically rude!"

Olorin: "Kind of the flavor of lemon juice, but with the flavor of pear. Leaves a dry-ish texture in the back of your mouth, like not quite ripe fruit."

Kibbitzer-in-Chief: *shrugs*

Nazgul: "It's all right".

This is getting decidedly unimpressed responses from the rest of the Lab. As for me, I like it well enough, and I admire the boldness of the flavor...but the Sweet Blossom was much nicer. This lacks the pleasant fruit flavors, and substitutes a very strong lemon. It's much like a slightly bubbly floral British lemonade.

Quaff rating: 2.5. Meh. The label is pretty, and the floral flavor is interesting...
Cough rating: 0.5. The lemon, while not unpleasant, it very strong.

* For example, recently reinstalling Diablo 2, because...well, because.
** Some of those Unique items are really hard to find.
*** A.k.a. the Kibbitzer-in-Chief giving me that look.

****  The Muppaphone:

Taylor's Tonics Cafe Azteca

I was born in Topeka, Kansas. To the great surprise of many people I meet, I actually have many good feelings and memories of my hometown and state. Kansas is a lovely place, and Topeka has a certain charm. That's not to say it doesn't have its own unique problems*, but I enjoyed growing up there.

I now live in north San Diego County, and when I discuss my history with people who live around here, I notice an odd thing. None of them are all that surprised that I have good memories of Topeka.

What shocks them is that I have good memories of living in Los Angeles.

I openly acknowledge that L.A. has some serious issues. It suffers from major traffic problems, parts of it have unpleasant climate, the air quality could be better, etc., etc. Yes, I know. On the other hand...Los Angeles has just about every possible language, culture, and food within 20 minutes of wherever you live. When we lived in UCLA's graduate student housing (West LA), our complex had a mix of people who spoke English, Spanish, Russian, Japanese, Egyptian Arabic, French, and Chinese (not sure which dialect). The incredibly cosmopolitan nature of the city presents unlimited opportunities. It's a wonderful place to live, if you like that sort of thing.

My wife's family is partially Mexican, and so I've learned more about Latino culture through them. Thus it was that--when I saw this brew from Taylor's Tonics, I thought it might be fun to try.

There's nothing particularly Mexican or Aztec about this setting, except that the tree is a jacaranda.

Growing up in Kansas, "hot chocolate" meant a sweet chocolate-and-milk drink, heated, and usually served with marshmallows. If you wanted to get exotic, you might put some nutmeg on it.

In LA, I learned some about the history of Mexican hot chocolate, and the use of interesting spices and lack of sugar.

<i>At first I was afraid; I was petrified!
I kept thinking "I can't live without mini marshmallows on the side!"
But then I spent some nights thinking about spices and cinnamon.
Now I like it strong, and I've learned the Aztecs weren't wrong!</i>

 This claims to be based on cocoa, coffee, cinnamon, and cayenne. Let's try it out!

Where and when: purchased at Frazier Farms, Vista, CA, sometime in June.
Color: A fairly light caramel brown, slightly cloudy.
Scent: Hmm. That's a very interesting smell! A strong scent of cocoa, with a definite cinnamon and coffee undertone. Sweet and sharp, with a hint of acid. Pleasant, but very strong.
Taste: Hmm...whoa...huh...

Okay, this one has some real complexity. It keeps changing, over ten seconds or so. I wasn't quite ready for that, have to try again.

*sip*

And they're off! The first to hit is a chocolate dominant tone, underlaid with a moderate coffee-like bitterness, reminiscent of chinotto. There's also a significant acid tang, which fades in about 3-4 seconds. The bitter drifts away a bit more slowly, with the chocolate staying aloof above it all. As the bitter fades, it is overtaken by an interesting bite--must be the cayenne. This slowly gains strength, and has a lot of staying power--20 seconds or so later, it's still there, with the chocolate hovering over but dissipating very slowly, like cirrus clouds lingering after a thunderstorm.

I'm not sure when I've had a Weird soda with such a complex and changeable flavor. I have to give it some interest points. I'm not actually sure yet whether I actually like it, but it's bold and interesting at least.

I convinced the Kibbitzer-in-Chief to try a sip. The sequence of expressions on her face was a testament to the complexity of the flavor; she went from surprised, to unhappy, to afraid, to angry, and finally to saddened, over the course of about 30 seconds.

It reminds me somewhat of Moxie, oddly--as if you took Moxie and mixed in some chocolate and caramel, and then a dash of Tabasco.

I'm not quite sure how to rate this. I've tried Taylor's Tonics Chai Cola before, and found it quite pleasant. I can't say this is as nice, at least for me...but it's certainly interesting, and the flavors are high quality. For someone who likes coffee, this would probably be a great soda.

Quaff rating: I'd have to say 3.5. Good and interesting flavors.
Cough rating: Probably a 1.0. Maybe "arresting" is the right word.

For your interest, here is a partial transcript of an audio recording I made of some friends and Lab staff (Rapier, his wife, Nazgul, and Olorin) trying out Cafe Azteca.

Olorin: "Blaaaaaaaah. Smells like pepper jalapeno chocolate coffee." *tastes* "That's good."
Rapier: "It's like walking into the spice isle at a non-Western supermarket."
Nazgul: "That tastes good!"
Wife-of-Rapier: "It's not like artificial chocolate."
Rapier: "No, that's good."
W-O-R: "I smell the almond chocolate."
Rapier: "It's way better than it smells."
Nazgul: "Yeah. Way."



*For example, it's the home of the Westboro Baptist Church.