All in USA
Refreshingly smooth and chocolate-focused— the majority of the ‘flavor-spend’ seems dedicated to its cocoa profile. It could use a bit more support from a cream and salt perspective; I think what calories are ‘saved’ by drinking this instead of its full-fat counterpart are not nearly worth the flavor discrepancy, as Shatto’s whole chocolate milk is worldwide elite.
Flavorful, albeit in a thoroughly sweet and faux-caramel sense. It’s thicker than necessary (for 1% lowfat) and finishes with a sticky sweetness that will scratch your sugary itch, possibly drawing blood in the process.
Brimming with flavor— mint, chocolate, and cream remain prominent whilst languishing in delicate balance. The cool minty hit helps to slow the consumption rate, as it’s a fun and tasty sensation that you’ll continue to chase until exhaustion. To be clear, I mean the bottle’s exhaustion, not your own.
Solid representation of what drinking a marshmallow would be like— so if that’s your charter, consider this a must-have. For everyone else, it’s a painfully sweet, much-more-marshmallow-than-chocolate experience, leaving you every bit as empty as the calories you just consumed.
Velvet-like cream adorned with a signature flavor that I can only describe as ‘caramalt’— an appropriately enticing-sounding portmanteau that bears salt, swagger, and soul— two of which are also men’s deodorant scents.
Devastatingly focused on delivering a clean, true cocoa flavor that pairs exceedingly well with the cream to provide a top-flight drinking experience. There’s a salty bite and a fleeting but blissful grassy back-end that both feels like a reward, yet is rewarding in itself.
Flat, by-the-numbers, within-the-lines chocolate milk flavor that benefits from its 2% base enough to crest the Mendoza line. It looks pretty and won’t challenge you for better or worse— perhaps the ideal mate for some.
Sucking the candy shell off of a single M&M would give you a much more intense chocolaty experience. It’s smooth, almost ‘slick’— and the uniquely sharp malt flavor is both arresting and distracting.
They’ve done well to make cocoa the raison d’être, as all other attributes play their supporting role with competence, altruism, and grace. It feels substantial, yet lithe, and the noticeable amount of chalk knows not to linger.
As with Grace Harbor Farms, I like what I taste here, but just couldn’t get the cream to incorporate, even with super-vigorous shaking and manual stirring (I don’t have a blender). You’re either forced to chew some cream chunks (I’m not opposed) or ignore them and drink a super-thin, cream-deficient junior varsity version of what it could be.
You won’t find a better potable version of cookies & cream— the essence of a chocolate sandwich cookie is perfectly captured, and not caricatured (as in many other formulations out there). If you’ve ever dreamt of drinking an entire sleeve of Oreos, this is your calling.
Punchy flavor swaddled in warmly creamy raiment: this kind of experience is everything one could hope to find on a worldwide chocolate milk odyssey! Expertly negotiates the balance of being indulgently satisfying, yet still leaving you wanting more. Much more.
Delicious from first sip to navel-gazing repose; it’s evident that great care went into the cocoa profile, both in the flavor and how to maintain its presence throughout the experience. The powerful cocoa flavor leaves an ephemeral chalky footprint— one that you’ll want to follow back to the fridge time and time again.
Cherry flavor rings in early and often throughout the sip, but careful attention has been paid to the sweetness level which remains muted but competently supportive— preventing a ‘candified’ mockery of the rare (in chocolate milk) choc-cherry combo. I believe it’s seasonal (Valentine’s Day), but worth your immediate pursuit— another winner from the peerless Shatto portfolio.
A suitable alternative to main-lining Hershey’s chocolate syrup. It’s uber sweet, cumbersomely chalky, and powerfully chocolaty— but in a more sweet than bitter way. There’s an almost alcohol-like twang to the finish— as though chocolate liqueur was a major component of the flavor. In short, you CAN have too much of a good thing— and they’re trying way too hard here; it reeks more of desperation than aspiration.
Nastily thick and un-milky in a way that makes you gulp it in, and then down— likely not as noticeable through its provided straw. The textural gaffes would be excusable if it delivered great flavor— which it certainly does not: strong, unoffensive malt with nary a shard of chocolate.
Excellent creaminess with minimal viscosity— one of the most competent chocolate milks I’ve ever had in terms of this ratio. Both elegant and lithe, it drinks like a dream that you don’t want to wake from. Flavor-wise, it’s decidedly on the bland side, choosing to slow-play the cocoa flavor whilst keeping the sugar well at bay.
Confidently wild, luxuriously creamy, and exceedingly drinkable— the grass-fed cream is by far the star of the show here. Chocolate plays an understated, yet competent role, letting the cream flourish and the salt accentuate each draw like an ocean wave lapping the smoothly sun-bleached rocks of the Downeast Maine coast.
Mildly creamy, yet chalky and super bland. Chocolate is nowhere to be found, and a faint, pleasant malt flavor struggles in earnest to shine under a dim spotlight. It’s a bit drying to the mouth after each swallow, though a bit more subtle than most other high-protein chocolate milks.
Relatively thin for whole milk, yet creamy and tasty in a way that whole chocolate milk is expected to be. There are neither sinister deviations from- nor brilliant exploitations of- the typical chocolate milk properties, just delicious simplicity.
