Spice Invaders

NO CHRISTMAS SPRITE: But Holiday Spice cola, eggnog shake and pumpkin spice latte try to compete with traditional holiday drinks. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

Visions of sugary drinks that messed with our heads.

by Juliet Fletcher

Nothing indicates "misanthrope" quite like someone sitting in a corner sipping a Diet Coke. Not all year round, you understand, just 'round about now. In a season that rests on a collective appreciation of Dickens-lite, it's fairly sad that we expect our holiday beverages to provide more entertainment value than our very special movie presentations.

In short: Heaven forbid you want an ordinary drink in December.

But with pumpkin, candy cane and nutmeg simulacrums, the liquids industry has met our wish. This year has seen a higher-than-ever introduction of "holiday-themed" drinks — from Pepsi to Ikea, with some returning favorites by Starbucks and McDonald's — designed to have us unabashedly trimming trees and humming carols like we're angling for a bit part in a Wal-Mart ad.

But is single-minded bonhomie possible, even more likely, on a sugar high? City Paper's little helpers wanted to find out. But how would we measure their emotional effects? Why, on the saccharine holiday movie scale, of course.

Pepsi Holiday Spice

December is an unusual month. Bad people get a collective reprieve and turn back to homelier values. And a soda which spends 11 months of the year trying to be hip redesigns its can with traditional iconography (old-timey bottle caps, black-and-white etchings), stirs in a dollop of "spices," and makes like tradition rocks.

Pepsi's limited-edition spiced cola (same price as regular Pepsi) succeeds in what its name suggests: nondescript sweetness. We thought it tasted like cherry soda, or even chai? Root beer or fruit punch? Bubbly elf blood? Congrats, Pepsi, on having attained perfect holiday indistinction. Just like a favorite seasonal fairy tale, where a deadbeat dad (Michael Keaton) returns from the dead as a snowman to get to know his son, Pepsi's holiday maneuver succeeds in an unlikely reputation rehabilitation, but may leave a mess and an empty ache when it melts away in January (maybe in your heart, maybe in your kids' teeth).

Yes, you're drinking liquid " Jack Frost.
Rating: 3

Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte

Pumpkin is overlaid with autumnal rather than hibernal associations. So, feeling chronological, we began with the pumpkin latte. But consternation, not a warm-and-fuzzy holiday emotion, was our first response. Two 20-ounce lattes ($4.20) we bought were as dissimilar as is possible for identically named items to be. The first was a cup of thick, blond milk foam, swirled with orange, but — yes — completely coffee-free; the second had twice the necessary espresso, but half the pumpkin flavor. So they'd both been made separately, not to mention clunkily, and both versions were hard to swallow.

Yes, you're drinking liquid " Miracle on 34th Street.
Rating: 2

McDonald's Egg Nog Triple Thick Shake

Eggnog, you see, is made with copious amounts of egg and cream. So, in a novel twist, the folks at McDonald's paired it with ice cream, which is made of cream and egg. Like looking for snowfall on an Arctic glacier, it's hard to spot where the classic shake ends and the novel eggnog element begins. But most guess it was at the point where our tasters all put their cups down, saying "No, I can't go on."

This foodstuff ($2.69) — you can't call it a beverage if sucking it through a straw requires real exertion — hit the spot for some: One of our team felt he was "pressing his taste buds to the sweet, thick, cold beaches of the North Pole." Others felt that might take them a mite too close to Tom Hanks in five digitally costumed guises.

Yes, you're drinking liquid " The Polar Express.
Rating: 2

Ikea Glögg

Assertive but gentle, strong but Swedish, this punch mixture ($3.99) is the Petr Forsberg of hot syrupy elixirs. Of course, since this is an Ikea product, some assembly is required. Glögg (pronounced "gloog") can be mixed with water or wine, then heated to produce spiced berry punch. Now, this was where members of the team started to have, ahem, differences of opinion. Some thought Ikea's easy-to-follow instructions hadn't been specific enough: Sweet wine might work as an accompaniment, said one, but not a dry Merlot, which created a bright red "berry-gone-wrong, Robitussin-esque" brew. But others heartily disagreed: Said one, "I am warmed and glowing like a Yule log — and I'm Jewish."

So, it's a little unnerving if you take it on sight, it's complicated in its mix of horror-movie hue and cheerfulness, and it's heartwarming if you stick with it.

Yes, you're drinking liquid " The Nightmare Before Christmas.
Rating: 4