Lest you think I’m a hater, I want to remind you that I take great pleasure in things that are minty. After Eight’s, peppermint bark, Mojito’s, you name it. I’m still sad about the fact that I haven’t been able to track down any Sprite Ice yet. What I’m saying here is that I like–am predisposed to liking, even–things that involve mint. So when I ran across Metromint, I was intrigued and thought, “Hey, maybe that’s my up my alley.”
But it wasn’t. It’s bad.
It’s really bad. It’s bad like the poetry you wrote in high school. It’s bad like Pitchfork’s review of Travistan.
Metromint tastes like you’re brushing your teeth. Take the flatest, most plastic-tasting bottled water you ever had (i.e. Klarbrunn’s), and then mix in half a tube of Crest. Does that sound like a good idea? Does that sound like something you’d enjoy?
The problem (I’ll just pick one big one, to save time) is that the mint flavoring is fairly heavy, and works cumulatively. With each sip, your mouth gets further and further into Scope territory. That is not a place you want to go. That’s not refreshing. That’s not the land of taste sensation.
I’m purposefully trying to keep this review kind of dry. I could be a lot meaner, but if I do that, then everyone will get curious and run out and try it for themselves. And I don’t want that. Firstly, because I care too much about you, and secondly because I would really like this company to go out of business as soon as possible.
Metromint is absolutely to be avoided, except by people in secret societies and college fraternities, who could maybe work this into their hazing rituals. I wish their inductees only the best of luck, and the strongest of stomachs.