All in USA
Easily the worst version of Yoo-hoo I’ve tried. The bouquet alone should be an effective defense mechanism, but should you go in for a sip, rest assured it will be one of very few. It’s an egregious miss—assuming the target was cookies & cream and not soured acetone. This is terrible.
Well, it’s cold, brown, and would suck if you spilled it on your crotch— that’s where the similarities with chocolate milk end. I want to like this, but even the smallest sip brings about facial contortions. It looks decent coming out the can, but the flavor is unfortunately dominated by a heavy-handed pseudo-bitter-sweet twang that steers the rest of the experience toward imminent catastrophe.
An avalanche of indulgence curb-stomps your tastebuds into blissful oblivion! Highlighted by a powerfully true cocoa flavor and equally formidable cream quotient, this is the real deal Holyfield- accept no imitations, honor no substitutions, worship no other libations.
A pleasant salty-malty journey through familiar “Two-percent Reduced Fat Organic Chocolate Milk” territory. It does what it sets out to do and delivers a flavorful enough drinking experience to warrant your consideration.
If Robitussin got into the chocolate milk business, I would expect something similar to this. Fortunately the Stevia flavor isn’t oppressive, but it’s not flavorful in any positive direction. The texture is dense and not as unnatural as expected, and visually, it looks ok. And just like that, my cough is gone.
Super forgettable but actually quite decent for the institutional market. It’s nicely smooth, and averagely everything else. The experience peaks at the eye-catching package, and once opened, it quickly retreats to the median.
Perhaps I’m bitter, but as a lover of Twix I must be strict here. Absent are the best features of the candy bar— the cookie crunch and the fact that there are 2 bars; thus you’re left with a soulless, syrupy milk that harbors a scorched caramel bite and thankfully few other notables.
I was shocked to find that ‘coffee’ was not a primary ingredient— as this tastes much more like a botched hazelnut mocha latte than a liquid Snickers bar. Things only get worse in the aftertaste— best not to have a foretaste.
Creamy, light, and crisply flavorful— yet another well-crafted concoction for the lactose averse that happily stays within its boundaries.
An avalanche of what I can best describe as ‘creamy girth’— which is decidedly more appealing than it reads. This is by far its standout feature, as there isn’t a strong flavor component in any particular direction— but fans of dense cream and light malt should take notice.
Smooth, yet full texture with a sharp malty bite that is pulled off extremely well due its creamy sustain and seemingly self-aware disinclination to linger. I was left wanting more, exacerbated by the fact that I couldn’t easily procure more.
Cocoa flavor gilded with a feral, buttery cream that very few chocolate milks can achieve, and all should aspire to. Refreshingly simple, perfectly balanced, and deliciously real. Wow!
Powerful cocoa upfront that affords the cream time to establish roots in the latter half of the sip— giving you two phases of satisfaction whilst preparing you for the next draw. This is a cycle you won’t want to break— as the cocoa profile is uniquely intoxicating and the non-homogenized base is a welcoming host who truly makes you feel ‘at home’ regardless of your actual surroundings.
Nicely punchy flavor that lives up to its attractive aesthetics— too bad most people will never see it outside of its Tetra Pak enclosure. Thin, smooth, and appropriately balanced salty-sweet levers, this is a shelf-stable chocolate milk that would serve as a great punctuation to anyone’s bagged lunch.
Girthy, but not earthy. Dense, without pretense. On my third version of TPC chocolate milk and I’m clearly flustered, listless, and struggling for adjectives that I haven’t already used to describe this. In short, it’s densely packed with strong, lasting cocoa flavor that you rarely find in drinkable form. The cream’s grassy snap is a confident nod to its roots, and the overall quality feels remarkably congruent with its grounds in Zionsville.
Blissfully smooth and creamy, it warms the heart as much as it does the palate. It drinks like a dream— one of those dreams that when you wake up from it, you immediately try to get back into it. I now lie fully satisfied, reflecting intently on the half gallon container and the 12 minutes it took to render it dry.
Strange upfront sweetness that reminds me of sunblock— which, don’t get me wrong, has a pleasant, coconutty smell— and to an extent, this is how I’d imagine it would taste (though I’m sure it’d be much worse in actuality; please don’t attempt). The texture is consistent, though under-creamy, and the cocoa flavor is trumped by nutty interference and early strong sweetness. I applaud the innovation (50-50 cow/almond milk blend), but wonder if/how this is intended to last beyond a summer fling.
Refreshingly unsweet, with a heft that would suggest more flavor than it actually carries. There’s a bit of an aftertaste that is a departure from ‘milky’ or ‘chocolaty’ but overall, its focus on cocoa (without a sugary crutch) is unique and honorable.
Delivers richly strong, mature cocoa flavor with effortless simplicity. Each sip is a wholly satisfying experience complete with a beginning, middle, and end— thus each 16oz bottle is essentially a compendium of short, delicious stories.
Smooth, relatively-luxurious experience with a nod to malt and a moderate caramel-like sweetness. It drinks quickly and goes down without a fight.
