Stewart's Cream
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
Stewart's Beverages, Rye Brook, NY
cold, no ice

Nobody said the Summer of Soda would be easy. There will be casualties. All must come under the Judgment of the Tongue, the terrible, swift tongue.

Only by tasting a lot of sodas does one really figure out what one prefers. But slurping from the Siphon of Knowledge is a mixed blessing--you learn what's good, but you also learn what's crap. And sometimes, you find old favorites definitely lacking. Exhibit A: Stewart's Cream.

I'm a fan of Stewart's; I love their Orange Cream and Black Cherry sodas (at least I did before I started this odyssey). I've even had their Cream soda before without undue disgust. So I was surprised at how lame that beverage struck me today. It's very pale, so sweet my teeth throbbed, and the vanilla smell has a weird chemically sharpness. It tastes completely fake. This wouldn't bother me if it tasted incredibly good, but it doesn't, so what's the point?

Final verdict: When there is Virgil's cream soda in the world, why in God's name would you ever drink this?

KP: spared, thankfully
MG: 2.5 of 10

Henry Weinhard's Orange Cream
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
cold, no ice

First of all: can we all agree that the "Olde Familye Traditione/Since 1492/Original Recipe" marketing gambit is tired and annoying? Same goes for the cute founding/discovery story, too. (I'm looking at you, Vernor's.) Henry Weinhard's Orange Cream (HWOC) is just dripping with this conceit, and it gets in the way of what is a very respectable orange soda. We value that plenty at Summer of Soda. But it isn't a piece of the True Cross, for God's sake.

I think we would all agree that the ur-Orange Cream food, the Platonic Ideal of orange-creaminss, is the Dreamsicle. HWOC does well in this regard; it smells like one. It even invokes a Dreamsicle on the neck band. Unfortunately, the taste is a little weak. It's got a nice color, though, and a foamy head, which is a nice plus. I just which it didn't taste like it was trying to hide.

Final verdict: No brewer back in Germany was making this crap back in the Renaissance, but it's a decent orange cream soda. Would I drink it again? Sure. Would I pay for it again? Only possibly.

KP: AWOL, possibly hanging out with Old World brewmeisters
MG: 5 of 10

Frostie Blue Cream
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
Leading Edge Brands, Temple, TX
cold, no ice

The selling point of this soda can be summed up in two words: it's blue. Really blue. As blue as the eyes of the perfect Aryan youth. It's the kind of color that, were you to pause before drinking it (in, say, the midst of a summer-long soda-tasting experience), you might have real misgivings. Just what manner of crap is one ingesting when one dances with a Frostie Blue Cream?

Best not to think about it, and if you can exercise that kind of discipline you'll find that Frostie Blue Cream soda isn't that horrible. Kate said, "This tastes like what dead four-year-olds think Windex will taste like." In other words, very sweet, sort of like cotton candy. It's a respectable--passable--cream/vanilla soda, which is good, because the taste definitely persists during the aftertaste.

Final verdict: Better than Windex, but not worth dying for either.

KP: 2 of 10
MG: 4 of 10

A.J. Stephans' Black Cherry
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
A.J. Stephans, Boston, MA
cold, no ice

Kate called this "nearly perfect." So why just a "9" from our Sultry Siren of Sodapop? "I don't know how it could be better, but I'm assuming that someone, somewhere could beat it, so I'm holding the top spot open."

I'll tell you how it could be better: fewer bubbles. I was a bit put off by the carbonation, which seemed excessive, but Kate's right: the flavor of this soda is just delicious. Almost delicious enough to make up for the twerpy "tonic" thing. Bostonians can cut that out already, and take "cleansers" along with them. That may have been okay when it was just you and millions and millions of indians, but now that there's a whole country to the left of you, it's time to get over yourselves.

Still, good job on the soda.

Final verdict: Bostonians can be a pain in the ass, but they make a darned good black cherry soda.

KP: 9 of 10
MG: 8.5 of 10

Pennsylvania Punch
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
Natrona Bottling Co., Natrona, PA
lukewarm, no ice

From the sadists who brought you Red Ribbon Root Beer comes Pennsylvania Punch, almost an apology of a beverage. Where Red Ribbon was a licoricey punch in the soft palate, PA Punch is a completely unassuming, toddler-friendly, non-carbonated grape drink...Non-carbonated? I could swear something's prickling my tongue. Perhaps there's a micro-poltergeist in every bottle. "Pennsylvania Punch--it's Ecto-riffic!"

I didn't mind it, being no stranger to super-sweet grape sodas, but Kate actively disliked PA Punch. "I may never enter the state of Pennsylvania again, as a protest." (I won't remind her it's on the way to Manhattan.)

Final verdict: A super-sweet drink, with a bit softer taste than your usual grape soda. But nothing special, even if there ARE ghosts in it.

KP: 3 of 10
MG: 4 of 10

Drizzle Banana
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
Moxie Harvest Corp., Brooklyn, NY
cold, no ice

This one practically leaped into our shopping cart. Banana-flavored soda? What's next? Avocado? Drizzle looks like pee and smells like banana Laffy Taffy, but I'm only partially dreading it, because my good friend pure cane sugar is part of the mix. I'm expecting this to be swill, but could this actually be good?

(drinks)

Sorry, no. It tastes only very faintly of banana--the dominant flavor in my mouth is straight-up carbonation, like a seltzer. The aftertaste isn't bad, a bit sweet, but actually more like tapioca. The aftertaste builds in your mouth, with every swallow leaving a layer of taste; unfortunately what's left is kinda icky.

Final verdict: Points for ambition--anybody can make a cola or root beer, a banana soda is daring greatly. Too bad it wavers between "meh" and "I need to wash my mouth out."

KP: banana-phobic
MG: 3 of 10

Henry Weinhard's Root Beer
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
cold, no ice

Henry W. makes up for his substandard Orange soda with this quite nice root beer. It's very, very smooth and foamy. My dad tried a swig and found it too sweet, but Kate and I both agreed that it was delicious. (I think my dad also prefers the Stones to the Beatles, which tells you something.) Weinhard's Root Beer tastes almost buttery. I taste sassafras and I approve.

Kate subtracts one point for the use of corn syrup, and another point for the lack of nuance in the flavor. She's right, it is a little thin-tasting--but had we not tasted some very assertive root beers lately (Virgil's, Americana) and unique ones, too (Gale's), Henry Weinhard's would tough to beat.

Final verdict: On its own merits, a really good root beer. The best? No. The most distinctive? Certainly not. But very good.

KP: 8 of 10
MG: 8 of 10

Virgil's Black Cherry Cream Soda
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
REED'S, LLC, Los Angeles, CA
cold, no ice

I just want to say that the outset that Kate and I are not in the pay of Virgil (whoever he is). His sodas are just really, really tasty.

To me, Virgil's Black Cherry Cream soda smells like Baskin-Robbins Cherry vanilla ice cream; to Kate, it smells like Dr. Pepper. But the real attraction here is, of course, the taste, which is mostly cherry, some vanilla. The cherry taste makes this a little less complicated tasting than the straight Cream (which I think I prefer). But it's a nice cherry taste, not a harsh one. Bad cherry soda reminds me of Sucrets. This is a million miles away from that. Kate said, "I've never drank anything like this, but I'm still enjoying it." I enjoyed it, too.

Final verdict: An excellent beverage, and proof that "cherry" doesn't need to mean "synthetic, mouth-staining, and most likely cancer-causing." Will they bring out a mini-keg? Two inquiring minds want to know.

KP: 8 of 10
MG: 8 of 10

Nesbitt's Strawberry
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
North American Beverages, Waco, TX
cold, no ice

Nesbitt's Strawberry is the color of red Kool-Aid, which even at this early stage of the Summer, Kate and I have both learned to fear. Bright colors like this are a warning sign, a harbinger of undrinkable sodas aimed at children, prisoners, and other captive populations.

So Kate bailed. But I think she missed a good one; Nesbitt's Strawberry surprised me. It tastes like liquified Jolly Rancher. Though the strawberry flavor has very little in common with the actual plant, it is not cloying or perfumey. It's actually pleasant. There's no aftertaste to speak of, and only the slightly heavy carbonation would keep one from chugging it.

Final verdict: Really much better than I expected. I liked this, and I'd drink it again.

KP: conscientious objector
MG: 6.5 of 10

Virgil's Cream Soda
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
REED'S LLC, Los Angeles, CA
cold, no ice

Kate doesn't like cream soda; actually, that's not quite correct. She thinks it's okay, but "when you can eat creme brulee to get your vanilla fix, why drink cream soda?" I cannot argue that--but I can't eat creme brulee, or indeed anything containing the merest smidge of milk. This may explain my devotion to cream soda in general and Virgil's in particular. During the football season, when I've cracked one of their mini-kegs, I think my blood-Virgil's content may be inching towards fatal. And I don't care!

Most cream soda is pretty one-dimensional: pale-bubbly-very sweet, with a thin note of vanilla. Virgil's is a whole different beast. It looks like single malt scotch. Even better, it's got depth--the ingredients read like a model UN, and you can taste 'em all. It's still primarily vanilla, but there's also this yummy carmelization--from the carmelized pure cane sugar. Most sodas are lucky to have ONE kind of pure cane sugar; Virgil's cream has TWO. Clearly, you're in good hands here.

Final verdict: I'll give it a "9," because I believe the perfect cream soda has not been invented yet. But I'm here to tell ya, Virgil's will be tough to beat. It also comes in mini-kegs during football season, which is awwwwesome!

KP: Off eating creme brulee, I guess
MG: 9 of 10

Americana Honey Lime Ginger Ale
12 fl. oz.
glass bottle
Orca Beverage Co., Mukilteo, WA
cold, no ice

If Kate ever leaves me for another man, I already know what he will taste like: Americana Ginger Ale.

When we uncapped it, I got a sniff reminiscent of two different kinds of Brooks Brothers aftershave (Bay Rhum and Royall Lyme). That was enticing enough for Kate, but when you add in the taste, well, I'll let her say it. "This is possibly the best ginger ale ever made...I don't know who these people are, but they've clearly sold their soul to the Devil."

Okay, okay, we get it, Kate likes it, but what does it taste like? Quite a lot like Vernor's--as with the big V, you've get to make sure not to inhale as you drink it, or the ginger fumes will cause you to cough spasmodically and sputter the soda all over yourself. But Americana is a bit lighter than Vernor's, thanks to the lime note in it; it's tasty, not palate-searing. And the pure cane sugar in Americana Ginger Ale gives it the nod over Vernor's, which uses the dreaded high fructose corn syrup.

Final verdict: A true winner. The best ginger ale ever made? Only more research will tell!

KP: 10 of 10
MG: 9 of 10