I swear, I had grander plans for my first post. I had every intention of highlighting the culinary delights of a recent trip to Rhode Island, or delving into my new hobby of unopened restaurant stalking. But unfortunately, and I have to admit, quite fittingly, the first post on my new food blog is going to be about Oreos.
Luckily, we’re not talking about just any Oreos — this post is about a new interloper, a possible gamechanger, an oreo that redefines what it means to be a chocolate sandwich cookie with vaguely vanilla-ish creme filling. Of course, I’m talking about the new Limited Edition Ice Cream Oreo Cookies and Creme flavored Oreos. Christopher Nolan’s cookie of choice. The Oreo-within-an-Oreo. Oreoception.
Before I discuss my encounter with the L.E.I.C.O.C.&C.s (geez, Nabisco, could you make that name longer?), I think it’s only right to explain why I literally searched every single bodega and grocery store near my apartment to find a box of these. (Side note: If you also seek the grail, check out Stop & Shop — after weeks of fruitless and awkward bodega loitering, I ended up smack dab in front of a large display at the supermarket. Facepalm.)
Here are the hard, cold facts: I have a serious, lifelong Oreo problem.
I have to imagine it started in the womb, since I can’t remember a time when I didn’t lust after anything remotely cookies & creme flavored. If it’s the cookies, I’m a brand purist, sticking by Nabisco and their claims of producing Milk’s (and at one time America’s) favorite cookie. Put away your Trader Joe’s Jojos, and don’t even talk to me about Newman-O’s. But within the safety of the National Biscuit Company’s arms, I’ll go hog-wild. Double-stuf (the real Oreo lover’s classic), golden, peanut butter, mint, mini, fudge-covered, McFlurrys, DQ Blizzards, I’m down. Show me an Oreo-themed dessert at a restaurant, and I’ll show you an inappropriate level of excitement.
As a child, I devoured Breyer’s Cookies and Creme ice cream (the blue package is the only box for the discerning Oreo lover). I would also purposefully schedule playdates to increase my chances of an afterschool bowl of Oreo-O’s (RIP, you best cereal ever). By the time I got to college, I had developed a bit of a reputation. What was the first cast gift I received as a stage manager? Well, just take a look at the photo below.
I don’t know if it’s evident from the sheer joy on my face, but this was one of the best presents I’ve ever received. Inquiring minds can ask for reviews of the specific products in that photo, but let me just say that second semester of freshman year was a blur of black and white deliciousness. And I frickin saved that box of Oreo-O’s for MONTHS. (Second side note: I recently learned that you can buy Oreo-O’s from Korea off of eBay. I struggle with whether this is a valid purchase.)
So yeah, I don’t think anyone would argue that the L.E.I.C.O.C.&C.s and I were destined to be together. My favorite ice cream combo smushed inside my favorite store-bought cookie? Sounds like an express train to tasty-town in my mouth. But enough preamble, let’s open these bad boys up!
Okay, so from the get-go you can see they’re making it absolutely clear that these are ICE CREAM flavored. There’s even a ice cream cone on the side to emphasize the comparison. (Based on scale, that’s either a giant Oreo or the world’s most adorable mini-ice cream cone.)
Unfortunately, Nabisco’s effective leading of the witness is completely necessary. But let’s not jump ahead.
Things seemed to be heading in the right direction when I opened the package. I was a little nervous because I’ve been recently burned by the Birthday Cake Oreos. Not only did they taste awful, but you were subjected to an overwhelmingly chemically smell upon opening. It smelled like aliens had tried to re-engineer a cake out of amino acids. The L.E.I.C.O.C.&C.s also had a strong aroma, but thankfully it was the heady scent of dairy mixed with vanilla. It reminded me of opening a pint of actual C&C ice cream, or unwrapping a Hershey’s Cookies & Creme bar. I sniffed a solitary cookie — even the chocolate part smelled of ice cream.
These guys are somewhere between Double Stuf and Classic thickness, which I appreciate as a creme-over-cookie fan (seriously, if they sold Oreo filling in jars, I would buy it). The sandwich was very easy to twist, and you can see that the layers separate cleanly. The creme is strangely greyish in color, with what appear to be flecks of cookie throughout. I imagine if we go deeper, Joseph Gorden-Levitt is in those flecks fighting in a revolving hallway of sugar (okay, okay, last Inception joke).
But as a I alluded to before, despite a solid foundation of smell and look, these cookies really just under perform on taste. The cookie layer is your classic Oreo, which wasn’t surprising — after all, the filling is clearly supposed to be the star here. But the creme was just grainy and very mild compared the to the strong flavor suggested by its smell. It lacks the intense sweetness of regular Oreo creme, and it doesn’t taste anything like my old Breyers Ice Cream or Hershey’s C&C bars. And alas, just like the Birthday Cake Oreos, there is a strange chemical aftertaste that lingers as a bitter note.
What the creme really reminds me of is the non-cookie products in the Oreo line — like the fudge sticks or Oreo-O’s. They approximate Oreo flavoring, which I can get behind since they’re not trying to be a cookie, but here it just doesn’t make sense. You’re trying to be the meta-Oreo — you should taste like the ultimate, authentic cookie!
Overall, the Limited Edition Ice Cream Cookies and Creme Oreos were not flat-out gross like their Birthday Cake counterparts, but I’d probably choose regular Double Stuf over these guys the next time I’m buying. It just doesn’t seem worth it to eat a milder version of almost-Oreos.
That said, I’m probably about to devour this whole box. I mean, I just spent an entire post describing my unreasonable affection towards Oreos — now Mama’s jonesing for a fix.