Hi, gang. How’s everyone’s summer? I know, I know. Hot. Apparently, it doesn’t matter where you live—it’s just hot. When it gets really bad for you, just remind yourself of the long, cold, bitter winters we’ve been having and maybe the heat won’t bother you as much.
Anyway, if you’ve visited my blog before, you know that I like to pick up random things sometimes and just give them a go. Well, this time it was soda.
Specifically, Goya coconut soda. To some of you, it may sound strange. To others, it may sound yummy. It’s kind of both.
This coconut soda is part of Goya’s line of tropical soft drinks, and like other Goya sodas, it comes in a long-neck bottle and has a rather tropical (of course) logo. It gives you (okay, me) the illusion that you’re drinking a beer. It’s clear in color and lightly carbonated.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, but how does it taste? Like carbonated, sweetened coconut water. And like coconut water, the coconut flavor is very light, rather than overpoweringly “coconutty.” For people who like natural coconut flavor, I think you’ll like this. For those who like a strong coconut flavor, it may seem weak. The nice thing about it is that it’s not overly sweet, either.
Don’t misunderstand me. When I say “natural coconut flavor,” that doesn’t mean that it’s a natural soda. Nope. It still has high-fructose corn syrup and artificial flavors. I’m not a big soda drinker and it wouldn’t be the first thing I’d reach for, given a choice of beverages (I’d much rather drink alcohol). But I do enjoy a glass of cola with lime once in a while, and the occasional experiment with something “exotic.” To people in the Latino community, coconut soda is hardly exotic, but coming from a culture (Italian) that doesn’t use coconuts that often in its cuisine, I consider it unusual and different. Next on my Goya list is guaraná and cola champagne.
So, that’s it for this week, my friends. I hope everyone has a great (and comfortable) weekend. Ciao for now.
what is known on the market as “cassava bread.” This particular product is dry, flat, and cracker-like. It’s quite plain and is meant to be eaten as an accompaniment to meats and stews. I asked my Dominican friend at work about that because the package says that it’s imported from the Dominican Republic. (What’s funny is that the store where I bought it had it stacked on a shelf in the produce aisle. Um, sure. You know, plantains, potatoes, and cassava bread all go together, right?)
