Well my self-pledge to drink each soda to the last drop didn’t last long. At least not with this Brussels Sprout Soda.
I let Jessica pick out which one to drink first, and much to my dread she picked the Brussels Sprout Soda from the fridge. I guess it is better to get it out of the way first, because I assumed it is going to be the worst.
Upon cracking the seal upon the bottle cap, the odd putrid aroma snuck into my nostrils. A smell that I assume is just like the sweaty feet of a dead man, I winced the first two times I tried to take a sniff.
The taste itself wasn’t as bad as the smell, it was almost buttery in flavor, but the dark green liquid did not go down all that well. It did not taste in anyway like a vegetable either.
I had planned to down it all eventually, sip by sip, but Jessica made me see the error of my ways. She stopped me from drinking it and in such prevented myself from getting sick.
So I still assume it’ll be the worst of the bunch (and they are over a year old), and the half filled bottle still sits upon our kitchen countertop.
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