[Fair is fair, so I should mention something I haven't been able to get my hands on. Still on the subject of obscure pop, I would sell a kidney for a case of this stuff. A thorough review of the Peter Spanton beverage line can be found here. From what I can gather, it's only available in the UK. The spoiled child in me resents being told I can't have something, but the mature adult is intrigued by grown-up soft drinks. Mr. Spanton's sales pitch was enough to get my attention:
"Like Marmite, I think people will either love it or hate it. I actively hope children will dislike it."
Traveling Anglophiles who want a public "thank you" on a blog read by no more than five people, take note. But, I digress.]
High rent and cramped quarters are among the sacrifices one makes for such absurd convenience. Of course, the door doesn't swing both ways. New York has its own quirky cultural relics that become truly impossible to find in most other places. After a bit of pondering, I set out to find a can of celery flavored pop and a bottle of espresso soda. As expected, I didn't even have to leave the neighborhood; I love this town.
First up is Cel Ray -- made popular by the same folks that censored Elvis' hips and hid important documents in their freezers. Jolt Cola was not your grandmother's drink. Cel Ray was... provided that she never stopped speaking ill of those Cossacks. It's one of those Kosher deli staples, so to speak.
So what does it taste like? Throw some celery into a juicer and mix it with some bland variety of ginger ale. That's the best comparison that comes to mind. I find RC cola endearing because it tastes like flat Pepsi "in a good way." Had I grown up on this paired with pastrami sandwiches, perhaps I'd have a special place in my heart for this substance. Instead, I grew up with Nabs and peanuts + Coke. That's enough bizarre tastes for one boy. I'm too old to start developing new quirks like drinking vegetable-based pop, and the other five cans I had to buy are going to sit in my refrigerator until someone takes them off my hands.
Next up is Manhattan Special Espresso Coffee Soda. Aside from coloring and some preservatives, the ingredients are pure coffee, carbonated water, and sugar. In principle, it's the perfect drink to accompany an ambiguous brunch dish like an omelette with french fries. Is it breakfast or lunch? Should you get coffee or cola? Since 1895, a solution to this dilemma has existed.
I appreciate that these 10oz bottles are just the right size to fill an ordinary coffee mug. Yes, I know it's strange to pour soda into a coffee mug, but I really don't know how to approach this drink. In principle, this beverage is a glorious idea. In practice, there's too much sugar in this drink. The first thing that hits you is a combination of coffee and fizz -- good! Then it fades into some kind of sweet-but-stale aftertaste -- less good! The image I was left with was that of sugary seltzer being strained through week-old coffee grinds. Maybe it's the sugar, or maybe it's the preservatives... or maybe it's just a crummy drink. Don't get me wrong, I'm entirely behind this concept. The execution could just use some improvement. Then again, this is coming from the guy that willingly drops perfectly good peanuts into a glass bottle full of Coca Cola.
