So I was in Shaw’s today (a Massachusetts chain), and I saw a display of Oreo cookies. “What Flavor Will They Think of Next?” it said, and I didn’t think much of it until I saw the flavors that were featured.
I was actually able to stomach the idea of the mocha Oreos, but the waffles and syrup flavor was where I drew the line. There have actually been other flavors of Oreos that have come down the line, including Red Velvet and Lemon (which I can at least imagine trying), but then there are some that just repel me.
Some of them are terrifying.
This all started in 2012, when, for some reason, in the Nabisco boardroom, people made the decision to create as many flavors as possible.
Again, some of them I can at least see the mildest bit of sense in. Okay, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. I can see someone thinking “okay, a popular candy bar, and anyway, it’s peanut butter, which people like; let’s give it a shot.” And I saw the logic behind Mega Stuff, because that was geared toward the folks like me who carefully took one of the chocolate biscuits off of two Double Stuff Oreos and combined them (and yes, I have done this with Mega Stuff Oreos, which means that I have effectively eaten an Oreo cookie with eight cookies worth of cream on the inside; it’s awesome, and I sometimes think that you could just package three Oreo cookies that are basically a biscuit on either end and a long column of crime, and I’d love it).
In fact, it is this awesomeness that I ascribe to Mega Stuff Oreos that makes me well aware of a chilling fact: there has to be a group of people who love each and every one of the flavors that the folks at Nabisco rolled out.
Look. It took a lot to roll out those flavors. There was, first and foremost, the person who came up with the idea for this. Given the fact that I cannot think of any rational, clear thinking mind that thought of these flavors, I therefore must imagine a room deep in the depths of a Nabisco office in either Washington, California, Oregon, Colorado, Alaska, The District of Columbia, or Massachusetts. I imagine a research and development worker opening the door, a cloud of smoke emitting from the room he has just left. His eyes are the color of sliced beets.
“Dude,” he mutters. “Candy Corn. Just…just….Candy Corn. And…and Lime Aide. And Caramel Apple.”
Yes, these are all indeed flavors of Oreos that have come down the pike at sone point or another.
There are others. Fruit Punch and Root Beer Float in 2014. Watermelon in 2013. Rainbow ShureBert (sic) in 2012.
Then there are the flavors that other countries developed. Double-Fruit in Orange & Mango and Raspberry & Blueberry crème in China. Blueberry Ice Cream in Indonesia. And Oreo Duo in Argentina; this features a layer of creme featuring two complementary “half and half” flavors (it comes in two varieties: strawberry and vanilla, and banana and dulce de leches).
And on that note, as I veer away from Argentina and just settle down to my basic Mega Stuff, I look at these flavors, and say, as Roberto Duran did when ending his fight with Sugar Ray Leonard, “no mas, no mas.” There are times when it’s best to just leave a good thing alone, and not fix it. The many harrowing flavors of Oreos, however, show that to the Nabisco corporation, this adage means nothing.
I was actually able to stomach the idea of the mocha Oreos, but the waffles and syrup flavor was where I drew the line. There have actually been other flavors of Oreos that have come down the line, including Red Velvet and Lemon (which I can at least imagine trying), but then there are some that just repel me.
Some of them are terrifying.
This all started in 2012, when, for some reason, in the Nabisco boardroom, people made the decision to create as many flavors as possible.
Again, some of them I can at least see the mildest bit of sense in. Okay, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. I can see someone thinking “okay, a popular candy bar, and anyway, it’s peanut butter, which people like; let’s give it a shot.” And I saw the logic behind Mega Stuff, because that was geared toward the folks like me who carefully took one of the chocolate biscuits off of two Double Stuff Oreos and combined them (and yes, I have done this with Mega Stuff Oreos, which means that I have effectively eaten an Oreo cookie with eight cookies worth of cream on the inside; it’s awesome, and I sometimes think that you could just package three Oreo cookies that are basically a biscuit on either end and a long column of crime, and I’d love it).
In fact, it is this awesomeness that I ascribe to Mega Stuff Oreos that makes me well aware of a chilling fact: there has to be a group of people who love each and every one of the flavors that the folks at Nabisco rolled out.
Look. It took a lot to roll out those flavors. There was, first and foremost, the person who came up with the idea for this. Given the fact that I cannot think of any rational, clear thinking mind that thought of these flavors, I therefore must imagine a room deep in the depths of a Nabisco office in either Washington, California, Oregon, Colorado, Alaska, The District of Columbia, or Massachusetts. I imagine a research and development worker opening the door, a cloud of smoke emitting from the room he has just left. His eyes are the color of sliced beets.
“Dude,” he mutters. “Candy Corn. Just…just….Candy Corn. And…and Lime Aide. And Caramel Apple.”
Yes, these are all indeed flavors of Oreos that have come down the pike at sone point or another.
There are others. Fruit Punch and Root Beer Float in 2014. Watermelon in 2013. Rainbow ShureBert (sic) in 2012.
Then there are the flavors that other countries developed. Double-Fruit in Orange & Mango and Raspberry & Blueberry crème in China. Blueberry Ice Cream in Indonesia. And Oreo Duo in Argentina; this features a layer of creme featuring two complementary “half and half” flavors (it comes in two varieties: strawberry and vanilla, and banana and dulce de leches).
And on that note, as I veer away from Argentina and just settle down to my basic Mega Stuff, I look at these flavors, and say, as Roberto Duran did when ending his fight with Sugar Ray Leonard, “no mas, no mas.” There are times when it’s best to just leave a good thing alone, and not fix it. The many harrowing flavors of Oreos, however, show that to the Nabisco corporation, this adage means nothing.
