Archer Farms Mocha running for $1.99 is a hard sell, given that brand names cost only a few dozen cents more. Not only are they generally bigger, which means they are cheaper per ounce, but often their quality is better rounded. Mocha's can uses two shades of brown and a sort of a tan colour, and the rather boring design actually has an old fashioned feel to it that really harmonizes everything into one act of visual appropriateness.
Considering the generally successful tastes of the previous varieties, each sip is imprudently thin and disappointingly bland, which is certainly surprising given the explicit fat that's left clinging to the walls of the cup after the expedient final sip. Initially there's the product's only declaring of chocolate, which unfortunately is a banausic flavour of the such that's obscurely witnessed within the vapid taste of skimmed milk. The saccharinity of it all is grievously decrepit and is wholly ineffectual at its only job, as while it shouldn't necessarily be sharp, it should at least be unambiguously noticed. But like many before it, there is lamentably little coffee to taste; none of the pleasant bitterness or its oft misunderstood flavour, which is augustly ruinous. The overall experience is melancholily frustrating and ineptly concocted, but to be perfectly honest, my criticisms for Archer Farms Mocha seem to really be for the whole flavour inspiration rather than for anything it influenced.
Each can contains both added caffeine and some from the untasted coffee, so it's deleterious that there's only sixty five milligrams per can. Sure, there are several vitamins involved, but the cold truth is that the infirm quantity is simply too low to garner a worthwhile buzz, and what was felt was a weak kick lasting less than an hour. All in all, Archer Farms Mocha is terrible not because it's offensive, but because it's so lackadaisical and is so scared to experiment.