A Gonster in its ideal state (ideal is used loosely here) looks like a slightly disturbing black and green traffic light drink, with the two substances separating like oil and water. Critic’s first attempt at making one didn’t go quite to plan; we weren’t able to get our grubby hands onto a Monster Nitro, so we had to settle for the original, which, a) wasn’t fluorescent green, and b) did not settle in layers.
This resulted in a concoction of pure evil, a bubbling bog-water looking drink that was the physical manifestation of having to wait twenty minutes for your pint of Guinness to pour. We simultaneously felt like a victim and a perpetrator of crimes violating the Geneva Convention.
After a Gonster-fuelled interlude scouring Reddit on how to properly pour a Gonster, Critic’s second attempt left us tipping the remaining half of the Monster into a pint glass, before pouring the rest of the Guinness over a spoon against the wall of the glass to slow down the pour. We hoped this would make the elegant Guinness-on-top, Monster-below segregation we saw on a shitty Instagram meme. This method also didn’t work.
Now, half-pissed mid St Paddy’s Day with two glasses of bog-water, Critic decided the only real course of action was to sink both of these consecutively and hope for the best. Tasting like a shitty King’s Cup, the Gonster was essentially an overpowered Monster. The Guinness was really just an afterthought. The drink tasted like a Monster but with the unsettling consistency of some sort of milkshake. It’s enough to make you question whether you ever actually liked Guinness.
Pairs well with: Totally not manufacturing a famine and pretending it never happened
X factor: A cardiologist's drink of choice.
Hangover depression level: 10/10. Stuck in perpetuity trying to pronounce Irish names. Niamh “Ni-am, Ni-omi, Ni-... Fuck”
Taste rating: 2/10. “Dennis, there’s some lovely filth down here”