Critic was a bit late this St Patty’s to jump on the bandwagon and acquire the breatha’s Irish drink of choice: Lime Cruisers. We even mished to the unfamiliar territory of South Dunedin, but to no avail. We were left with the consolation prize, the ugly step-sister of this green and sugar-filled RTD: Sour Apple Cruisers.
In classic St Patty’s fashion, we began our day at 8am, still feeling the effects from regrettably going out the night before. To kick the morning off right was an ideal breakfast of Nutrigrain with Sour Apple Cruiser as a milk-substitute. Pairs well with a peaceful morning shower Cruiser to wash down the barely eaten concoction. Tastes like pain, regret, and sugar. All in the name of journalism, naturally.
Drunkenly stumbling upon other students sharing the Sour Apple Cruiser sentiment, one student said that they were “dangerous”. By this time, this poor munter was struggling onto their second box before 9am. Another member of the Sour Apple brethren said that they were “stupid easy to boof” and went down like water. He went on to say that he’d just chunnied blood. Good reviews all ‘round.
Sour Apple Cruisers, unlike the new trend of sugar-free ‘healthy’ RTD options, offer no false sense of health. These don’t pretend to be what they’re not. Sour Apple Cruisers are made from straight artificial alcohol goodness and contain enough sugar and an unnerving sense of acidity that's enough to drive the snakes out of Ireland. (Whatever that means, but I’ll drink to it).
Sour Apple Cruisers come in at a price point of $27 for 16.8 standards — in line with the normal market rate for a RTD box set by the Asahi alcohol overlords — with the golden ratio of piss to standard at a respectable $1.6 per standard. An okay consolation for the way that these bevvies make your teeth feel like they’re going to fall out post-consumption, only after turning them an alarmingly fluorescent shade of light green (for that raw Irish sex appeal). Would go hard under the white lights at Catacombs.
The aftermath of this drink (or perhaps an example of complete overindulgence) makes you feel like a used-car salesman from Ashburton going through a divorce whilst taking out a second mortgage to pay for lawyer fees. Nothing good, except for a day of cheap green themed alcoholism that ultimately writes you off from studying the next day.
Pairs well with: Conor McGregor and the IRA
X factor: Embarrassing yourself with a shitty Irish jig
Hangover depression level: 10/10. Yes.
Taste rating: 5/10. They taste how neon green looks