Oatmilk is a fascinating dairy-alternative, although I am unsure what the hell it has to do with canned coffees. They already are something of a niche product here in the states, so pile that onto something that is already organic, nitrous infused and cold brewed, and you have a something so deeply gimmicky it should stand tall as an example of going "too far." Oh yes, and how classy does that discount sticker look? It would be a shame to not mention how something so over the top was forced onto salvage store shelves.
The oatmilk is nutty, numbing, and nuanced, which gives the stout septenary ounces here far more complexity than it has any right to be. The mocha is less chocolate bar and more chocolate syrup, a velvety cacao cocktail that sinks deep in your tongue as it crawls slowly across it, coating your mouth with the sensation of melted ice cream; there is even a slight grainy texture as the liquid falls down the back of your throat. The dairy surrogate blankets out any coffee the experience could have offered, its toasted malt taste so potent that only your eyes can believe there is any joe inside. It is an incredible first sip but one that never changes, so one-note that the initially petite seven ounces becomes a blessing- the pleasure becomes so overwhelming that you relish its brevity.
Eighty milligrams offers up a decent hour and a half long kick, a combination coffee and sugar rush that resembles anything your local mega coffee shop chain would churn out and call a latte.
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