Juice - 935 Reviews

While on a recent trip to the Philippians Franklin went to a restaurant to get himself a nice lunch. He had spent his morning climbing and exploring the Taal volcano and had worked up quite the hunger and thirst. As he is prone to do he asked his waiter to put a lime in his water instead of a lemon. He read somewhere that lemons in restaurants are full of germs and bacteria since they are left out and workers tended to cut them with bare hands. As per usual logic did not surface in the mind of our fair protagonist and to him limes were as clean as can be. The waiter informed him that he was sorry, but the restaurant did not have any limes. Now Franklin did not like being lied to. On his way into the restaurant he had seem into the kitchen and there was crate upon crate of limes. He had even thought to himself that he had never seen so many limes in his life. To be fair you don't run across large congregations of citrus in western Pennsylvania. Franklin began to raise his voice and it took a whole two minutes of him giving the waiter a piece of his mind before the server could get a word in edgewise to inform Franklin that those were not limes, but calamansi. He then informed his guest that it was a different sort of citrus fruit that tasted like god put a lemon, a lime and an orange in his heavenly blender and then shoved the result back into a skin that looked like a lime, but was actually sweet. Being a man who likes to get a taste for local fare, Franklin asked if he could have a wedge of calamansi in his water. His server told him he would do him one better and bring him a glass of his island famous calamansi juice. It was his grandmother's recipe that was a mixture of the fruits juice, cane sugar and a little bit of honey for flavor. He warned Franklin that it was a bit acidic so he should not drink it on an empty stomach and urged him to eat some of the complimentary bread on the table while he went to fetch a glass. Franklin was no dummy, he knew to never fill up on free bread at a restaurant. He was a well-read man who had read that factoid somewhere (he just forgot the part about not doing that at buffets). He didn't touch the bread and when the glass was set before him, he chugged it down like a true Pennsylvanian. The waiter had not lied this was a tasty and refreshing drink that did in fact taste like the description he gave. It also tasted like the rind was left on the fruit when it was blended, but that was not a bad thing. It had a sweetness to it, but there was not so much sugar added to eliminate the tartness of the fruit. He could also taste the honey. It wasn't very strong, but it was there enough that he noticed it. It was basically lemonade made with this exotic fruit instead of dirty old lemons. This was something that Franklin would rave about when he got back to the States. He let out a huge burp and asked for three more glasses to be brought out. He would forgo his meal in order to fill up on this delicious juice. The waiter tried to talk some sense into him, but Franklin would not hear it. He was a grown man and he knew what was best for him, or so he thought until a half hour later when he left the restaurant with the worst gut rot of his life. Let this be a lesson to you; always have some food in your stomach when you drink something with a high citrus concentration. Franklin would never make that mistake again, well at least not until he ran into another exotic fruit that was new to him.

When I was sixteen, I am ashamed to say that I used to take wine from the basement and bring it to my friend Justin's house. We used to sneak sips and hide it in the false, tile ceiling in his basement. That basement was great. We treated it with no respect and it showed. The way we treated that basement probably lowered the selling price by a bit. I think Justin told me that there were so many beer cans from him and his brother and their friends in the ceiling that they filled up a couple garbage cans. That basement was probably the last place I drank and that would have been in about 1998.

The one bottle of wine that we probably never finished was a bottle of red wine. It is the only red wine that I've ever had, and maybe the only wine I've ever had of any shade. This drink tastes like it. First sip I was immediately rewound back a dozen years into a basement that reeked of incense, bad music, and hormones, all covered in a thick layer of melted candle wax.

It's not a bad juice: very dark grapes and very dark cranberry. Pretty sweet and surprisingly HFCS'd first. I thought we were beyond that. It's a tame drink with no bitterness. Smooth, even. It's good, though, and now that I know what this one tastes like, I can get it any time I need to remember where I came from, a moldy basement where we built stadium seating out of some old couches and wood, a basement where we all made out with the same girl on separate occasions, a basement where we spent much of our high school days. A basement that now that I'm thinking about, makes me miss my dumb mid-teens. Now I'm listening to the Sneaker Pimps because that's what we would have been doing fifteen years ago.

Do you think the CEO of Capri Sun contacts his lawyer whenever another drink comes out in a metallic pouch such as this one? Do they have a patent on this sort of packaging? They should. When I was a kid I thought Capri Sun was the coolest, solely based on the packaging. Well that and because when you were done you could blow them back up and stomp on them to make them explode. That is the sort of thing that companies should keep in mind when packaging drinks for kids; will they be able to have annoying fun with the packaging when the juice is gone?

The juice that Honest uses here is very light. I believe the watermelon is to blame for that. Is there any fruit that is more watered down in it's natural form than watermelon? The flavor in this pouch is well rounded. If you concentrate enough you can taste each specific fruit that is shows on the label. The lightness of it may be a problem for kids in today's society who are used to over-sweetened, over the top extreme juices. This is what they should be drinking. MY only real complaint is why did they add sugar to this? Sure it's cane sugar, but it's juice, which is naturally sweetened, and I always thought that Honest was a healthier beverage. Oh well, it's still tasty, and if I had kids I would feed them these over normal juice boxes any day. Now it's time to go outside and blow up this package.

By the quality of this juice this company's idea of a tropical location is a third world country. A country that certainly does not have the funds available to properly grow and harvest guavas. Instead they go the inexpensive route and make a fake guava juice. There is pear and apple juice in this, but not a drop of the nectar of the guava. It still remotely tastes like the fruit, but a kid version of it. This is the kind of juice that would be in the lowest common denominator juice box. You can certainly tell that it is sweetened with HFCS, but for some reason there is sucralose in it as well. It's not bad for the price, but it's not what I would want when I have the craving for juice from one of the best fruits in the world.

For those not up to snuff on geography, Turkey is more than just delicious meat. It is also a country. Hailing from this country are gems like this drink. Look, it's just a pomegranate juice, but it's good. If you didn't know it was pomegranate, as I didn't since I can't read Turkish, you would assume it's just a regular, old cranberry juice. I can be wrong on occasion, it's alright. I've come to terms that the amount that I'm right has to be counterbalanced by being incorrect sometimes. It's only fair.

So pushing aside the fact that I've messed up the fruits, anyone who has drank cranberry juice and pomegranate juice has to give me a little bit of slack. They're both tart and have similar flavors. If I had to make a decision, like life or death, which one I couldn't live without, it would be pomegranate. They don't need any sugar and aren't mouth shatteringly bitter naturally. Pomegranates involve a decent amount of work that I don't mind putting in. It's fun, busy work. This is nicely sweetened and although some of the people that tasted it with me described it as a bit "cough syrupy", I have to disagree and say that it's a simple, pleasant pomegranate juice. Enhancing the taste is the bottle since it's all swirl and actually rad. I enjoy holding it, drinking out of it and looking at it...it's great. I like it.

I submit this to the neurons in your brain that receive the messages from your taste buds in order to distinguish flavor. In front of you sits an enormous apple. It's the biggest apple you have ever beheld with your eyes. You need both hands in order to list it. You toss it in the air a little to feel the heft of it, and what a heft it has. You look it over for a bit and then somehow your jaw unhinges in order for you to take a proper bite. It is the juiciest apple you have ever eaten. The juice is just pouring down your chin. It's an apple's equivalent to a tidal wave of juice. You have never tasted a fresher or more well rounded apple.

Some how Snapple has somehow captured this experience in a bottle. They have created a beverage that tastes more like eating the best apple ever than any other apple juice ever has in the past. It even has the taste of the apple skin in it somehow. I think somewhere someone rolled a 20-sided die and this is what they created in their fantasy world. Somehow it was brought into real life, and the world thanks the dungeon master in charge.

Thousands of years ago Central America was the home to many a dragon. That's right, dragons lived in Central America and not in Europe or England like the stories would have you believe. Dragons like heat, so why would they hang out in cold Euroland? In fact they like heat so much that they made their nests inside of volcanoes in an already tropical climate. Their eggs had to actually be at 800 degrees in order to come to gestation and hatch. That is the source of the downfall of the dragon. You see dragons may have been tough with basically impenetrable scales that allowed them to torment the close villages, but they had a screwy internal clock that caused them only to live for four years. They could get a bachelors degree and then they bit the dust. Luckily newborn dragons matured in only a couple of weeks. One day all of the volcanoes dried up and became inactive. The heat level dropped, the eggs went unhatched and the legendary beasts became extinct.

Here we are in 2012 and the volcanoes are still inactive, and dragons are nowhere to be seen. Their legacy lives on though through the magical fruit Pitaya, or dragonfruit as it is commonly known. Something happened with the unhatched dragon eggs that caused this fruit to see the light of day. It grows on the mountainsides of the still dormant volcanoes and is full of antioxidants and fiber. Seriously this fruit is beyond healthy. The antioxidants in one bottle of this are equal to that of 100 blueberries. It's not messing around.

It has a slightly chalky texture to it that I would assume is due to the high fiber content. The flavor is great though. The dragonfruit tastes kind of like a mix between an apple and a kiwi, but very mild, just sweet and inoffensive. There is mango puree and pineapple juice in this as well, but neither overpowers the taste. I would have never guessed there was pineapple in it, until I read it, and then I could detect it slightly. The mango flavor is more present, but it blends in well with the dragonfruit to create a nice smooth tropical flavor. I think this could also work well as a palate cleanser. I say thank you dragons for creating this fruit for us. I just hope those volcanoes don't ever erupt again causing the eggs to finally hatch. That would be a good time for no one down in Central America.

Having a kid, I am at the forefront on whether or not to use "baby talk." I can safely say that in the one single year of my son's life, I have never used baby talk or have I wanted to. Just reading the title of this drink aloud to him would null and void my streak. I understand that this is a drink for kids, but this is a phrase for babies. The only thing that could make the title of this drink any worse would be to change the "Y" in "yummies" to an "N." I can't even bring myself to type that out. Awful. Simply terrible.

Name aside, who doesn't love a nice, sweet orange drink? There is no edge, as I was expecting in this drink. It's smooth, which is strange. It's not creamy, which would be insanely disgusting. It just goes down well and doesn't choke you up. At first I thought that it was a bit Freez-e-pop-esque but I take that back. It did not taste at all like a real orange, and thinking it would is crazy. It tastes like candy orange and that is fine with me. I might prefer that to authentic orange unless it's orange juice. Let oranges do what they're good at and if you're not going to use real oranges, make something the same color that vaguely at best tastes like it. Hey, it worked for grapes.

Now I kind of want a grape version of this to see if it would solidify my point. I reckon it would.

Remember when David Bowie proclaimed, “This isn't orange juice, this is genocide”? Yeah, that was weird. I now understand that he was talking about. He was referring to the slaying of thousands of blood oranges to get to their tart, tart hemoglobin. I normally think that the senseless murder of anything is an atrocity beyond explanation, but with one sip of this and you'll be right up front with a juicer of your own. Blood oranges are far superior to your everyday oranges and Nobel is leading the crusade with this juice. I normally wouldn't say this, but I really wish they had added a little bit of sugar to this. Just a pinch would have made a world of a difference. As it is I really like it, but every time I take a sip I can't help but make that “I just put 25 sour Warheads in my mouth at the same time face to win a bet” face. Man is it ever tart.

I'm glad I cornered you here in this elevator. I bet if we weren't both professionals this would seem really creepy. You know, a guy chasing another guy from the parking lot into a building, and then just narrowly making it into the elevator before the doors closed. If this was a movie I bet I would kill you shortly. Oh don't worry, this isn't a movie and I'm not going to kill you. Or am I? No I'm just joshin' ya.

The reason I wanted to talk to you was because I have a great idea for an episode of your show. No, no please let me finish before you say a word. Okay I know you go into a lot more technical stuff on the show, but I have an idea to do a show about a drink. A specific drink at that: Ichitan's Double Drink. I know you've heard of it because it's one of the most popular drinks in Taiwan and I know you're a worldly man. Here's the breakdown. First you take some nice pale dry ginger ale and shake the crap out of it for a good twenty minutes. Then you open it over a barrel and let the now uncarbonated soda pour in. Secondly, you take a container of plain aloe juice and filter out all of the chunks. The liquid gets poured into the barrel, and I don't care what you do with the chunks. Maybe play pranks with them. Finally you take the contents that are in the barrel and add a buttload of electrolytes so that it has that specific aftertaste that the Rain line of Gatorade has. Shake it all up and put in a bottle to be sold. It's delicious I tell you. I know they throw some berries on the label, but that's just for show.

Oh, I don't work for the company. I just love the drink, and this is how I've recreated it at home. Wait…€¦.what? You don't work for How Stuff Works? You're actually just a janitor? Well why did you let me waste my time you jerk. I'm getting you fired and possibly arrested for impersonating an executive. Prepare to meet your cell you worthless liar!

You know it was really nice meeting you, Sam. You know what? I will go home with you. Let's get in this cab and head back to your place. Oh...you live here? This is a rough part of town, isn't it? Well, I feel safe with you so let's just get inside quickly because that guy over there across the street has shifty eyes like in cartoons where a dog has shifty eyes because he's up to no good.

Oh, this is...this is where you live? Oh, no...It's nothing...I just...well I just thought because you were so well kempt that...you know...your house would be, too. It's fine. It's fine. Let's just get to your room. Sam, why are we going in the basement? Oh...it is damp down here. Is that pipe leaking? Why does it...no...nevermind. No...I can't say it. You know what? I might go home. All of a sudden I don't feel so hot...well I was going to say it smells a lot like sweaty feet down here. Man it's damp down here. Do you have like seventeen humidifiers running in here?

Please don't tell me you sleep on a twin mattress on the floor. You do? Sam. Come on. You have a $400 watch on, $200 shoes, and nice clothes. Why do you live like this? How can it smell like feet so much down here! Jesus! Yes, Sam. Thank you. I will have a drink. I'm going to need it. Thanks. Is this red wine? What is it? Black current? I don't know. Oh, it's just juice? Alright. Ugh. What is going on? Is that the way this drink tastes or is this cranberry juice made with someone's old, sweaty feet? There is too much going on. Is this juice bad? Did you serve me old, bad juice? It's not expired. Look, once it's in my mouth, it just tastes like a liquid version of those delicious canned cranberries you eat on Thanksgiving. When you bring it to your mouth though...feet.

Sam. I can't do this. I'm sorry. You have a good nice and it was really nice meeting you. I'm going to call a cab and wait on your front stoop and hope that the shifty guy outside doesn't come towards me or I will kick him so hard he's going to be shifting in places he wishes he wasn't. Good night, Sam. Please lose my phone number.

Greek restaurants in their common form are nothing more than dinners that put feta cheese on their house salads. Occasionally they may serve lamb, but there is not much of a difference between a restaurant called Acropolis and one called Jims. I believe that the Greeks need to seize back their culture. The menus in their restaurants should be slathered with names of foods like spanakopita, gemista and briám. That would liven things up, and perhaps I would visit their establishments more often. I mean what is the point in visiting a Greek restaurant if you're just going to get pancakes and a milkshake. Speaking of beverages those same restaurants should also spice up this section of their menu. With names like Ouzon, Ivi and Epso they would be sure to entice more customers into ordering something to drink other than water. I know I certainly would purchase more than my fair share of Epso. I have a weakness for carbonated orange juice. I hardly ever drink it in the still form, but throw some bubbles into the mix and I just can't get enough. It's sweet, it's bubbly and it could help stir up interest in Greek restaurants.

For the quantity of peaches that I have consumed in my life I am shocked that I have not had more of its less fuzzy cousin the apricot. Truth be told I think I may have consumed maybe three whole apricots during my time on this planet. I have eaten it by the ton in its dried form though. The reason for that is because my mom would always buy a bag from the bulk section for some reason. Dried apples or pineapples would have been my go-to, but she always chose the apricot.

This is 27% juice and all of it is apricot. A lot of companies cut their juice with apple fluid, but Jumex keeps it strong with pure apricot. Well, at least the 27% of it that is actually juice and not water or sweetener. Even thought 73% of what is contained in this can is not apricot based, it sure tastes like it is. If you're a fan of apricots and you don't mind juice that is mostly not juice then give this a shot.

Things are strange when you get a “diet” version of a drink that doesn't taste all too different from the original, and that certainly doesn't taste diet. This says it's lo-cal, the strange this is there isn't a no calorie sweetener in it. It still has evaporated cane juice in it. I'm assuming it's just a lower quantity of it. The drink does taste a lighter than the original, but I think it actually makes it more enjoyable. Acai can be one intense fruit, and here it's mellowed out. Natural energy that tastes decent. Well done Sambazon.

It's 1920. You are eighteen, just graduated from high school and have your whole life ahead of you. You put on your hat, suit, and nice shoes and head to the market. You get some soap, fresh fruits and vegetables, and some meat for supper. Supper is what they called "dinner" in those days. You've got to check on the status of your car so you head to the mechanic across the street. It's dusty today. Your new dark gray slacks are taking a hit. Mother will be very upset that she's going to have to clean them. It's not your fault. If they would only cover the street with something everyone's pants wouldn't get all muddy. After all, that's how you lost a tire. After that big rain, holes and mud was everywhere and essentially stole the tire right off your car.

The mechanic is sitting down, covered in dust, dirt, oil, and grease. He's drinking something but you can't tell what it is from across the street. You walk up to him and ask how your car is. He tells you that you just needed a new axle and it was done. You looked at his drink and it was one of those new Blackman juices everyone has been talking about. You asked the mechanic where he got it because you were finally going to get one. He said that the market you just came from had them but they were in the back so you probably didn't see them. You paid the man, threw your groceries in you newly fixed car, and headed back towards the market. You finally found the juice after having to ask two different associates where they were. You decided on the pear apple juice since you love both of those fruits. You pay the cashier, head outside, and sit in your car. You open up the bottle and take a sip. "Ahhhhh" you say. It's a fifty-fifty split between your favorite hand fruits. Naturally sweetened by apples, tasting like apples, and tasting like pears all at the same time. Now you know what everyone was talking about. Blackman has done it again. You're going to have to do an extra good job at shining his shoes next time he sees you. He deserves it after this concoction.

You get in your car, tip you hat to the mechanic who fixed your car, and headed to your job as a shoesmith for wingtips and loafers for the rest of the day. If it's not too late, maybe you'll try your luck at some of the other flavors the market's got.

In a cave four hundred feet below the ocean, there are aliens. You thought they came from outer space. You orbit-dummy. They brought Pitaya, a space fruit, to Earth because their soil couldn't handle it. Their plants grow down due to strange gravity so the aliens planted them in the ceiling of their cave. Problem is, here plants grow up so they planted all these strange fruits that they just assumed weren't growing but, in fact, were growing up and actually breaking through the earth in some places and humans discovered them. These strange fruits were harvested right as "The Great Coconut Water Craze" of 2010 happened so they naturally were mixed in with that. Someone took a sip and said that it needed a little something else and threw in a lemon and called it a day.

The aliens, disguised as insurance brokers went to the company that had "stolen" all their fruit for a profit and decided to see what their hard work had turned into on this planet. They discovered that it wasn't half bad. The dragonfruit was a nice compliment to the coconut water that was typically chalky. The lemon was a strange touch that actually was some of the most sincere lemon flavor. Almost like if you made homemade lemonade with real lemons and put that in there without the sugar because this isn't terribly sweet.

The aliens, upset that they had been plating all their stuff only to be used and modified by dumb humans decided that they would go to Mars because they heard through the television that Mars makes candy bars and everyone knows that aliens love chocolate.

Every time I looked at this bottle on my shelf I mistook the guava on the label as a banana. As we've covered before bananas are gross. They are actually the only fruit I can't hang with. Guava on the other hand is one of my favorites. If this were strawberry banana it would have been hard for me to get one sip down. Luckily that's not the case and I am sitting here wishing that the bottle were bigger. It is pure guava and strawberry juice mixed together with a little water and sugar. Honestly had they not added the sugar this would have gotten a five-bottle review, but I'll take what I can get. It's sweet, fruity and oh so tasty.

Derek's daddy brought this back with him from Korea. It's been sitting in my fridge for months, waiting for the perfect time to review it. Apparently the perfect time was never going to arrive so I grabbed it on my way out the door to a Thirsty Dudes meet up yesterday. I mean is there ever a perfect time to down a can of asparagus juice? Maybe at a family holiday party, but in my world the real stuff is there, so I don't need juice.

At Mike's house we all laughed at the comically out of proportion can on the label. The woman looks so excited to be hanging out on the beach with an obscene amount of asparagus juice. Maybe that's where I went wrong. Perhaps this drink was solely for enjoyment at the beach. You can't argue with that smile. Once our laughter subsided I positioned myself over the sink as I was 90% sure I was going to instantly spit it back out. I cracked open the can and took a sniff. I really had expected this to smell like your pee after you eat a bunch of asparagus. I understand that is completely revolting, but that's how my brain works. Instead of weird pee the liquid in the can smelled like metallic soup. More specifically like spicy vegetable soup that was stored in old tin cans that some kid unearthed while digging in his back yard looking for dinosaur bones. I took as sip and surprisingly was able to swallow. It tasted exactly like it smelled. It was better than I expected, but not as good as I secretly hoped. It tastes absolutely nothing like asparagus, just weird old soup. Imagine if this tasted exactly like a nice lightly salty asparagus that had been sautèed in an obscene amount of garlic. That would be delicious. Instead I get old soup, and no one wants to drink that. Everyone had a sip or two and then the rest went down the drain, where it belongs.

Plums = Prunes. Like the Alamo, never forget. Also never forget that in the East, their prunes are smoked or something because everything plum/prune flavored tastes like you are eating their Western equivalent at a bonfire. Smokes. It's like chipotle fruit. Now allow me to read the ingredients to this drink because it should be the best drink I've ever had:
Water. Sugar. Hawthorn berry. Plum. Hibiscus flower. Licorice.

Could this drink sound any better? I mean, I don't know what hawthorn berry tastes like, but it's a berry. I get it. The plum/prune, I can say with most certainty, ruined this drink. I cannot taste anything but that. I love hibiscus drinks and love licorice and those are non-existent and that blows. It smells and to a lesser extent tastes like fruity beef jerky. Man. Editor Dan, the bequeather of this drink, was right. It sucks and should be better. If I could dissect this drink, I would do it in a heartbeat. Take all the plum/prune DNA out of it, add some water to put it back together, drink it again and love it.

Drats. This sucked.

More! I need more! Look, here's the problem. I only have a limited amount of juice box containers but I have a truckload of fruit. So, what I'm going to need you to do is put as much fruit in each juice box as possible because, and this may sound strange, I hate fruit. If there is one extra orange, I won't eat it. I will throw it in the garbage. Do you know what I hate more than fruit? Wasting fruit. Fruit is money. Time is money. Money is money. So what have you got for me, Sam?

Well boss, I've got this. I cannot fit any more juice and I feel there is a fair representation of all the fruits in there. Ready for the breakdown? Here goes. In each box, we've got half an orange, two-thirds of a banana, half an apple, half a mango, and an eighth of a pineapple. You didn't buy any grapes but I don't know if we could even fit grapes in here. Somehow we managed to make it taste like mango and orange exclusively even though there are so many other fruits in there. It's technically a smoothie, but it's not terribly thick and nicely sweet due to the apple probably. Do you want a taste?

Sam, let me ask you a question; do you want me to throw up on your already dirty Reeboks? I didn't think so. I trust you with this one so box 'em and ship 'em. We're ready for phase two; profit!