Yoplait Cosmopolitan

Some days you wake up feeling like a tool. Your apartment is not yet ready, leaving you stranded in your childhood basement bedroom, and you are on a gluten-free diet the instant cupcake-flavored Goldfish and key lime cookies rear their ugly, delicious heads on the shelves. Your current apartment may look like a warehouse, the kind used in mafia films. Unfortunately, you are no Tony Soprano. You are wearing a t-shirt from your local police department and are constantly on the verge of smelly tears.

And some days are okay. Like today. The sun is shining, your cop shirt accentuates your slender calves and newly shorn buzzcut, and you have eggs and bacon for breakfast along with a new yogurt. What kind of yogurt? Why, it’s Yoplait Cosmopolitan!

This spring’s latest issue is pink and trendy, and boasts a catchy ‘in season for a limited time’ sticker on the front- just like those awful sunglasses you’re wearing. It’s totally worth the $11.99, especially considering how it mimics its inspiration. Really, it’s incredible how many details they managed to fit in. The color of the yogurt is pink, like the dress Megan Fox wore 88% better than Rosie O’Donnell, and mimics the hue of your man’s cheeks when you tell him you want to abbhhzzzzhhhhbb your bbzzzhhbbt in his errbbbzzzbt with a rrrbbbuuuuurrrdkkkyyy. It’s chalky and pasty, almost as if you were taking pages of the real Cosmopolitan and were shoving them in your mouth in between sips of the new chia vanilla smoothie to tone your buns. (p. 79)

The container is a little awkward- it’s not as large as the full-sized Yoplait yogurts, yet somehow has the same amount of calories, 170. It’s squat and thick, like Kim Kardashian, lacking that pop of the original containers. The flavor is zingy and clever, reminding me of the clever sex tips in Cosmopolitan, especially the one about how to sex your sex sexily in the sexiest-

Hang on.

Nobody wanted to tell me? This is inspired by the drink. The goddamned Cosmopolitan, the drink of the besmirched Carrie Bradshaw. Well, this yogurt tastes enough like cranberry and lime- it’s pretty tart, but it’ll take more than 170 calories to work off the shame of this confusion. In conclusion, Yoplait Cosmopolitan makes a better magazine than it does a social lubricant. Back to the basement.

Luna Fiber Bars Peanut Butter and Strawberry

Amidst all the hustle and bustle of moving, I found one of my old journals tucked into a stack of old cookbooks while getting my stuff together. It’s from 2008, and unsurprisingly, contains a ridiculous amount of food descriptions, drawings, and grocery lists. There are sandwiches with French fries stuffed in the middle. Recipes involving multiple baked goods in one item. One list just says, ‘Cheetos (4)’ and I’ve been scratching my head trying to figure out what the hell that means. Did I really intend to get four bags of Cheetos? Or four different kinds of Cheetos at the same time?

If I’ve made any positive changes since then, it’s certainly been better eating habits. Having foregone the temptations of the dining hall early on, cooking for myself has challenged me creatively and nutritionally. I haven’t completely reached my goal of totally healthy, clean eating just yet, but I feel like I’m well on my way to doing so. The latest addition of a microwave in my life has made things infinitesimally easier. Strangely enough, it’s been about a year since I’ve had a microwave, and I’m still timing things in 45 minute or 2 hour increments based on what I can make in the oven. So sometimes, I don’t cook and just grab a quick, healthy snack.

With all my errands today, that snack was a few Luna Fiber bars. The internet sent them over, and just when I needed them, there they were, along with ground coffee, cognac, and instant cake from today’s UPS shipment. They come in three flavors—strawberry and peanut butter, raspberry chocolate, and blueberry vanilla. Because I had errands today and wasn’t able to eat breakfast, I ate all three within the course of the day so I could stay full and do what I needed to get done. I thought the PB and strawberry was the more exciting of the flavors, and coincidentally, it was also my favorite. The texture is fantastic, like a soft peanut butter cookie or a homemade Fig Newton. It’s a really well-made bar, with a yielding, chewy outside topped with sugar and a jelly filling. However, it is really tiny- like, eaten in three bites tiny. It would be perfect were it not for the cloying, overly sweet protein flavor. Much better than regular Luna bars, filling without feeling too healthy, but still has a ways to go. I think it’s still the best dessert-like protein bar, but falls short of Fiber One in terms of indulgence.

Sample Disclosure
I received this for free, it came in a cute box, and I wasn’t influenced by the free-ness of the stuff, but was really happy to eat it for breakfast as prior to said bar acquisition, I was replete with merely cake flour, old sausages, and booze. Luna, thank you for not driving me into obesity and a sad, dark life.

Vanilla Activia Greek Yogurt

My life is breaking into small, but manageable pieces. Ihave a host of tiny, infinitesimally asinine issues that somehow, my psyche has been interpreting as huge and life-changing, like the fact that not one, but two pairs of leather pants I’ve purchased on eBay don’t fit correctly in the ankles, or that the candle I bought smells like cheap aftershave and makes my eyes water. The hot water tank in my complex is broken and will be fixed by tomorrow, so I have to own my rank, delicious scents and languish another day without using honey-oatmeal soap, or, horror of horrors, go to the health club to work out and use their shower.

My point is, things are awful. I have too many apartments to choose from in too many beautiful buildings before I start at my first choice of law schools, my Birkenstocks don’t perfectly match my Coach Beekman, and switching from Firefox to Chrome is taking hours with my slow internet. My mother keeps posting passive-aggressive comments on my Facebook statuses! Pandora skips! It keeps playing ‘My Girl!” I look too damned good in men’s tank tops!

At least I’m regular.
And I’m not talking regular like, middle of the adult normalcy spectrum. That ship sailed ages ago, approximately when I outed my interest in CATS the Musical. (‘Sup, Skimbleshanks!?!) No, I’m in a league with celebrities, with cinematic royalty – I’m regular, just like Jamie Lee Curtis.
This, of course, is all thanks to Activia, who may or may not be silently monitoring my credit card expenditures and trips to the grocery store, because they definitely now know how crazy I am about Icelandic and Greek yogurt. They’ve come out with a new variety of Greek Activia in four flavors and sent me a few packs to try. I decided to review vanilla, to get a sense of the changes they’ve made from their regular formula to make it more like the Greek varieties lately.
It’s certainly a tasty yogurt – and its flavor is versatile, with a rich vanilla bean creaminess. I ate it plain. I dumped fresh mango and rosemary sea salt atop it, and that only served to enhance the flavor. I’m planning on trying it in a cheesecake. I found that the texture was far preferable to regular Activia and had less of a cloying, sugary flavor, which I’ve found is all too common in other commercial yogurts. While it’s not up to the finely-crafted level of my beloved Noosa and Siggi’s, it’s definitely the best larger brand yogurt I’ve had so far. I like that the flavors are simplistic – it allows the flavors of the milk and cultures to shine through. 
Also, can we talk about the ad spot? Ms. Freaky Friday is caught cheating on her first digestive regulation lover with an anonymous Greek equivalent, then takes back Lover #1 because he (she?) changes their lineage completely. It’s a classic lesson about romantic intentions- if you love something, let it go, and then change your entire genealogical background to win them back. Your ancestors will understand. 

Snap Infusion Mel Naturally Designed Supercandy

My life is so busy. I am such a busy, important person. What does someone with such a jam-packed, watch-checking life need? A new candy! A new candy because I am perpetually bored with life, filled to the brim with existential ennui as my special, paper-free Generation Next smartphone-delivered horoscope would have me believe. Right now, or at least, until the next popular Buzzfeed article, that candy is Snap Infusions, a naturally designed supercandy that appeals to my busy and important life because it is also moving too quickly to do silly things like type out the word “caramel,” choosing instead to label it “MEL.” We’ll come back to that. The package is covered in more holographic noise than your favorite sweat-stained Pokemon card, and even features jizz-like blobs on the surface. It’s also filled to the brim with keywords like “energize,” “protect,” and “balance,” making it the confectionary equivalent of NeuroPassion.

MEL is small and turd-like in appearance, and tastes like poorly made Milk Duds. The chocolate coating is scuffed and has a crumbly, cheap flavor to it. The caramel would be inoffensive if each penny-sized piece wasn’t packed with more additives than a Flintstones vitamin. I can almost smell the freshly ground B12. The pleasantly salty nugget quickly transforms into a bitter-flavored chew, making each bite like eating a protein bar, torturous piece by piece.

Snap Infusions employs four catchy IM-style titles for its products that range from asininely short to all-caps words bordering on Inception. Reading the descriptions for GUM made me wonder if GUM was an automatic replacement for another, non-GenNext sanctioned activity. “I use GUM day and night. GUM gives me the energy I need. I like to take GUM the old-fashioned way, with a rolled-up BFranxxx and AmEx card. Amirite? Amirite? GUM, ladies and gentlemen!” It sounds like an old Robin Williams sketch.

Speaking of things you take up the nose, ounce for ounce, MEL may cost more than cocaine in a glam-packed neighborhood. $2 for ten candies puts them at 20 cents apiece, a steep price for boiled sugar and the hopes and dreams of innocent athletes. Then again, Snap Infusion’s website would argue that it’s a small price to pay for not “ending up a dried-out shell of [your] former self.” As someone who may or may not have modeled for the “before” side of weight-loss scamvertisements, I take liberty in quoting from the late Roget Ebert (Houston, I sense a trend) in saying that someday, I may be thin, but Snap Infusions will forever be known for creating this awful candy.

Dr. Lucy’s Cookies: Maple Bliss, Double Chocolate, and Ginger Snap

People love to ask me if I ever eat my words, or if I ever reevaluate a product after I review it for the first time. Because most companies are not masochists, and because I grew up in jaded 90’s SpecialKid land, I typically laugh in their face and tell them that, no, I do not, because words are not delicious and I am never wrong. But do you want to hear something private, secret internet diary? Sometimes, something good does occur and products that were once not awesome at all undergo a miraculous transformation that turns them into beautiful, sexy princesses with edible innards that I want to cram into my mouth. And they don’t even have to remove their glasses!

Dr. Lucy’s Cookies are a prime example of this transformation. About a year and a half ago, I reviewed Lucy’s chocolate chip cookies, featuring all-organic ingredients and a gluten, nut, and allergen-free stamp to boot. I thought the concept was in the right place, but that the flavor and texture still had a ways to go. Now, Lucy’s has introduced three new flavors of cookie- Maple Bliss, Double Chocolate, and Ginger Snap. And none of them taste like plant matter!

Seriously, this was what the boxes looked like two days in. I don’t think we’ve even gone through Oreos with this much zeal. And the fact that each cookie is around 40 calories doesn’t hurt in the slightest. What was so remarkable about these cookies was how they took a standard mass-produced cookie model and just made it better. I can honestly say that if I tasted these blindly against more well-known brands, I’d be hard-pressed to call a winner. The ginger snap is a great example of a twist on a classic. These remind me of a less tough, less sweet version of Trader Joe’s famous Triple Ginger cookies, with a crunchy texture and big pieces of crystallized ginger. They’re crunchy, but bend easily and have a great crumbly and crunch. And they’re really, really! Okay, I can’t end my paragraphs with that any more. I tried.

We loved the chocolate ones just as much. Their deep, dark, charcoal-heavy flavor of bittersweet cocoa powder and sea salt brought to mind a robust, thicker Oreo. It was tempting to want to sandwich these with icing! However, the winner of the new varieties, by a long shot, was the maple bliss flavor. The cakey, shortbread-esque texture of Maple Bliss, a little thicker than the others, topped with a generous scattering of maple sugar, tasted like a portable pancake! The 40 calories made it even easier to pile bacon on top, too. Or so I hoped. A girl can dream! In any case, these are fantastic. I’m impressed that they took such lengths to improve their formula and make these delicious, and even more impressed that they made a cookie that boldly faces the competition with a healthier design.

MiO Lemonade and Blueberry Lemonade

MiO, someone needs to sit you down and talk to you about product expansion control. Seriously, you’re less than a year old. You started life with six babies and now you’re up to ten? If you were a cat, I’d spay you faster than you could say “liquid water enhancer.” Luckily, I’m a fan of gigantic product lines. (Call me, Octomom!) Like clockwork, Kraft and MiO have introduced two new summery flavors for the year, Lemonade and Blueberry Lemonade. As some of you know, I accidentally leaked this information a few weeks ago, unleaked it, and then announced a giveaway for two lucky readers to try the new flavors before their release in stores next week. And now, the night has come!
As I’ve seen in the past with MiO and MiO Energy, the two new flavors feature the same loveable teardrop-shaped bottle we know and love, and expands the line to include a more tart set of flavors, eschewing the standard juice, tea, and energy varieties we’ve seen in the ghosts of MiO past. In regards to flavor, it’s basically going to appeal to one of two camps. If you’re partial to freshly squeezed Meyer lemon lemonade hand-pulped by unpaid slaves with a sprig of organic, cruelty-free mint, you will likely not enjoy MiO’s version of lemonade. If you’re content to dump half a jar of Country Time into a bottle of water, this is definitely up your alley. I gave my slaves the weekend off to tend to their wounds, so I fell somewhere in between with this. It has a bright acidity to it, but not too bright- think a C average and 1100 on the SAT’s, and has a soft, sweet flavor tasting of simple syrup first and fresh lemon somewhere in the hundreds, behind lemon-scented soap and Lemonheads. Pleasant, low in calories, and easy to mindlessly drink. Definitely as good as the original MiO flavors with a little more oomph.
As far as the Blueberry Lemonade goes, I’m always advocating for more inspired and clever flavor options, so this was a welcome change- I guess jalapeno lemonade wasn’t on tap, but a girl can hope, right? I much appreciated the restraint in artificial coloring. Instead of resembling an overzealous toilet bowl, this was faintly blue and I wondered if MiO had taken a page from Vitamin Water and opted against using a deluge of Blue Lake #14 in their concoction. The flavor was distinctly diet, more so than the lemonade, and reminded me of other low-calorie berry-based beverages on the market, like Vitamin Water Zero and diet Ocean Spray, with a predominantly berry and Splenda-laced flavor and a very smooth finish completely lacking in artificial tang. Unfortunately, it lacked the tart acidity I expected from a beverage with 50% of its title comprising “lemonade”. Had this been labeled as mixed berry or grapeade, I wouldn’t have known the difference.
Overall, solid lineups to the MiO product line, if not my favorites of the lot. I like that MiO relies heavily on customer feedback to develop their new flavors and rotates their product selection on a regular, seasonal basis. It’s definitely something I’ll pull out when I hit the gym in the summer months and I’m really looking forward to see what’s on tap for fall. (Please, please, pleeeeease let it be apple cider and pumpkin…)

And now, for the contest! Just for fun, I made graphs of the rating breakdowns on a My First Graphing site. It looks like people were more varied on the blueberry lemonade but gave it an overall higher rating than the regular lemonade. And nobody rated them lower than a 3! I rated both of them as a 6…four of you thought I would rate them as a 7 and a 6, and from those names my random generator picked Heidi and Rex! Congratulations, and I’ll be in touch for your mailing addresses soon to get your MiO out to you. Thanks for playing and thanks again to Kraft and MiO for giving me the goods and hooking up my readers, too.

Gross Food Week #7: Walden Farms Calorie Free Marshmallow Dip

Ah, yes, Walden Farms. We used to go there on field trips when I was a waifish little girl. Take a stroll past the emaciated cows, lowing for calorie-free feed and water as the calorie-free breeze blew gently on your face. Old Farmer Walden would strap up ol’ Treadmill, the starving mare, and we’d take a ride around the field, its crops skinny and sexy as always, the abundant corn and wheat sheaves nearly translucent after shedding all those calories.
Those were the good old days, and no trip would be complete without a taste of Mrs. Farmer Walden’s special calorie-free marshmallow dip. Of course, this was before WalCorp bought out the farm, but it was just as heavenly as it could be- just like the real, horrifically fatty obese child snack, only…more wholesome. Ha ha, no it wasn’t. I’m just screwing with you. In fact, this has the air of a product made prior to a big corporate buy-out. With its incredibly precious label and short ingredient list, it almost does look like something that an ingenious housewife would whip up in her kitchen, until you open the jar. Shit is downright chemical.
For a brief, miserable summer, my dad decided to teach me some of the basic intricacies of home repair. One of the only things I retained from that summer was how to properly wield an axe to chop firewood, how to perfect my summer burn while lounging outside watching actual home improvement workers do their jobs, and how to use caulk in a small imperfection in an area. Lest you underestimate my mettle, know that this is typical behavior. Because this post isn’t about calorie-free axe murder or harassing working people, let’s see if you can figure out where this is heading. Caulk is not edible, but appears to be. But if you’re a closeted pica sufferer, I’ve got great news: Walden Farms Calorie Free Marshmallow Spread is as close as you can get to legally ingesting caulk, and it’s sort of, kind of, real food.
Let’s get the legal mess out of the way: according to the FDA guidance, compliance, and regulatory information, chapter 9, appendix A, the definitions of nutrition claims, a product is able to state that it is “calorie-free” if it has 5 or less calories per serving. You will receive no legal compensation for ingesting eighty jars of this and getting fat. But it’s not even worth your zero to five calories per serving. With a perpetually cold, thick texture, like cold cream without the lingering scent of baby powder, and a pure white color that absorbs all darkness and shadows, it’s definitely providing all of the defensive indicators to alert you not to consume it. But we forge on, as always. It has a congealed, wet smell like molding wood, with a harsh sugary edge behind it, like the sweet powdered sugar and corn starch scent on marshmallows. It’s not quite a solid and yet too gelatinous to be a liquid, and falls off both spoons, knifes, and fingers, leaving a watery, chalky smear of a trail in its wake. Think saturated marshmallows that have taken a trip down the river, capisce?
The flavor is downright abrasive, with a hideous gloppiness, like poorly cooked pudding, that doesn’t disappear once placed on the tongue. It’s similar to taking an injection of Splenda right into the vein. Any trace of vanilla that was once in this, or at least near this, was absorbed by the great white mass and spat out into the ether, never to be seen again. The flavor is part synthetic and part Elmer’s glue, with an emphasis on the latter. It’s heinous. There’s no better way to tell you. It’s nothing like marshmallows, dip, or marshmallow fluff, which I took out to remind myself what real fake marshmallow spread is like. Phew. This product isn’t worth saving its exaggerated, implausible claim of 330 calories a day. You’re better off eating actual caulk and sealing your own mouth shut. I’m just thankful I didn’t spring for the zero calorie peanut butter and make myself a FlufferHater sandwich.

Le Whif Chocolate Inhaler

To some of you, this may have come as a painfully apparent “DOOOI” moment, but to others, this might be a shock. Brace yourself. I was kind of a loser in high school. I know this is somewhat shocking being that I’ve presented myself as an awesome person on the internet. Shocker! You must think I’m like currency- legal and tender. But in reality, that’s a little far from the truth. This anxious undercurrent of a subject matter may spring from the fact that I’m going home in a few days after defriending over 300 assholes on my Facebook and, due to Murphy’s Law, will inevitably encounter at least eight of them while getting coffee and will have to endure awkward conversation and remind myself that I did what I did because I hated them.
I wish I had had Le Whif in high school. At least then I could have pretended to be edgy. It’s the perfect amount of sleek, oily pretension combined with the allure of snortable drugs but- psyche! It’s really chocolate. If I’d had asthma as a child, the irony of having this match my inhaler yet also be off-limits because of its powdery properties would not have escaped me. Le Whif is so impossibly vapid that even I, Lord of the Guise, must avert my eyes to its monochromatic color scheme and stupid “eating by breathing” mission statement. Seriously, Le Whif, you look like a tampon. You need to check yourself before you wreck yourself.
While I can’t honestly say this is the most embarrassing thing I’ve crammed in my mouth (that honor wholeheartedly goes to Kush Cakes) it’s certainly the most awkward. It’s a cross between a cigarillo and a plastic party noisemaker. And worse yet, you’re supposed to smoke it as though you were smoking a hand-rolled clove cigarette- gingerly, with a slight air of disgust. Below are a few recent installments I like to call “Faces of Le Whif.” They should give you a pretty good idea as to how we liked this.
I feel like a thirteen year old sneaking a smoke behind the bleachers for the first time, except this isn’t a Virginia Slim and I don’t feel cool at all. Despite the reassurance that the chocolate particles were too large to enter my lungs at 80 to 300 microns, I still feel like this crappy chocolate is bouncing around my respiratory system. After hacking up a Hershey’s bar, I tasted it. It has the unmistakable flavor of crappy, unsweetened baking chocolate and granulated sugar- grainy, with a bitter and undersweetened flavor, a predominantly fake molasses and brown sugar taste.
It’s like eating cocoa powder and Splenda, but with the added humiliation of sucking it through a patented device. Ick. It had a harsh, burning texture and left my throat feeling raw. All the thrill of a real cigarette with none of the Bond-level suavity or satisfaction. Also, it leaves a dirty, brown residue on the mouth of the depositor, a fine dust which inevitably gets all over your clothes and then melts for real.
There are absolutely no redeeming qualities to this product. Chocolatiers have scaled down their regular bars to make 100-calorie bars for the calorie conscious, and as far as I can tell, nobody has explicitly expressed a desire to breathe in their food. Perhaps this is a good chocolate “hit” for the stereotypical Hollywood female workaholic, but Jesus, so is a Tootsie Roll. Leave Le Whif in Le Trash and go drink some chocolate soy milk.

Fiber One 90 Calorie Chocolate Peanut Butter Brownies

This is a snack that could, and did, survive our most recent (and possibly first ever) tornado. Look, we all know the commercials with the smooth talking genie who offers wishes and fiber and shit. I wasn’t initially sold because I like to think that I eat enough to warrant roughage and fiber (Robot Editor’s note: SENTENCE REDACTED. CLEANER JOKE IMPLEMENTATION IN SESSION.) Puppies and kittens aren’t as cute and as wonderful as this brownie! No poop jokes at all!Anyhow, Keepitcoming and I were in Target, or “Tar-Jay” for the ladies, when we saw these brownies. Quick side note. Have you ever been so hungry while in a grocery store that you’ve just grabbed a package and started eating out of it? I’ve never done it but I feel that it represents a darker side of humanity. A person can get away with a lot in a grocery store. In seedier areas, like when Swagger and I go to C-Town, it’s not unusual to find chip packages jammed in between boxes or spilled Oreos near the meat. Sometimes people bring cups from other places like 7-11 and just leave them on displays. And then we get it on a bigger scale, like with the creepy old videos of supermarket sweeps. Every contestant has the same zombified, singular minded gleam in their eye when they’re told they can essentially loot a store in ten minutes as they blindly flail their arms and knock 322 boxes of toothpaste into their cart just for the hell of it as Yanni’s “End of August” blares while stock boys weep.
Um. Brownies. Yeah. TL;DR, we ate these in the Dick’s Sporting Goods. After paying for them. And they were incredibly tasty. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that this is one of the nicest, most developed flavors I’ve had in a snack that billed itself as healthy. While the bar is definitely much smaller than its packaging, it has a flavor and satisfyingly dense texture reminiscent of a really well-made snack cake.The flavor was extremely rich and chocolatey with a forward coffee flavor and scent. I checked the ingredients and, sure enough, chicory root extract, a natural substitute for coffee, was right on top. With companies and factories whose chief “homemade” taste comes from a blend of hydrogenated oils and sugars, seeing an ingredient my mom or I would use to boost the flavor in our own brownies was refreshing. The texture of the brownies was soft and chewy, much like an actual one.If I had any real criticisms for this particular variety, I’d have to say that the peanut butter definitely takes a back seat to the cocoa and coffee flavors. Calling this a mocha brownie would not be out of the question, but calling it peanut butter seems like a stretch as the chips and icing are somewhat overshadowed. Nevertheless, this makes a filling snack and blows other “diet” or low fat flavors out of the water. I was so impressed with these and hope that Fiber One continues to experiment with their varieties.

GNC Lean Shake Cookies ‘n’ Cream

This shake exists so that I can impress the ladies, and by ladies, I mean gentlemen, too. Any takers? Jesus just posted a cryptic Facebook status about our “tOrRiD lOvE xXx” and Sarah Silverman’s got me on speed dial. Plus I have a date with Kelly Keagy tonight and we’re going to play Sister Christian all night long, if you know what I mean. (We’re totally going to make out.) Of course, it’s all due to the large success of this lean shake, which I have been drinking for three days like a fine scotch whisky, brother.

Because I’m starting a new job at a facility that requires me to rely on my innate feminine wiles and toothy charm to extract blood money out of kids my own age, I wanted to check this shake out. Luckily, my mom was around to offer me a ride to the supermarket and we picked this up together.After working out with Keepitcoming Love, I paired this with a scrambled egg to see how it was. My first observation was how much of the mix was skimmed off the top. I wasn’t expecting it to be hard packed inside, but I also wasn’t expecting 1/5th of the cylinder to be empty, either. What is this, a potato chip bag? The side of the package recommends one to two scoops for every eight ounces mixed with either skim milk or water. I tried both. With water, the mix was clumpy and chalky, even when blended thoroughly. The cookie pieces all sank to the bottom and it developed a foamy, airy texture with a milky flavor and weak sugary undertone.Luckily for this, I didn’t give up right there. When blended with milk, the flavors were much more developed and the mixture was more cohesive and shake-like. If you blindfolded me, hung me out a helicopter, and put me over an active volcano with nothing but this to drink for hydration and pour over my head so I wouldn’t burn to a crisp, I would not be able to associate it as cookies and cream. It has the idea of cookies in little brown specks dotted throughout the shake mix, but as far as real cookies go, it is sadly lacking. Just cream is fine, though, and as a descriptor, more accurate than I expected. It tastes a lot like artificial coffee creamer. Still good in my book, though.