Halloween is coming, and I can already tell that for some of you, one of the most frightening events of this particular season is the recent release of a Candy Corn-flavored Oreo.

Now, I understand that to many, candy corn is unappetizing. These folks see it as striped candle wax melted down and shaped into chewy, inedible shapes suggesting the appearance rotten dog teeth, which is then given away in loads by lazy or otherwise uncaring households to trick-or-treaters who can only greet the sub-par candy gift with gritted teeth and a half-assed “Thank-you” mumbled through their Batman masks. Those people strongly believe that all candy corn tastes like sticky, flavorless plastic.

But it’s not true.

There is a difference in candy corn flavor from brand to brand, and unfortunately, many people have had the misfortune of tasting the cheap brands that do not use real honey in their confections. I get that some people just don’t have a sweet tooth or don’t care for excessive amounts of sugar, so they stay clear of candy corn. I’ve never had this problem. The sweeter, the better. As a result, I have had no fear of candy corn, and having tasted nearly every type of candy corn, I consider myself to be a candy corn connoisseur. (This is probably the most I’ve typed the words “candy corn” in one sitting. I deserve a medal … shaped like a piece of candy corn.)

I say all this to give you some perspective on my experience with the new Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreo cookies… and after sampling this new (very sweet) sandwich cookie, I’ve come away with one question. How on earth are these Candy Corn Oreos? Have the people at Nabisco never eaten a real piece of candy corn before? Before you even get the cookies out of the package, you can smell the very potent (yet admittedly pleasant) aroma of cupcakes. Candy corn does not smell like cake, so already, I’m wondering what these sandwich cookies are all about.

The Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreo is shaped just like a regular Oreo with a thin layer of sugary crème filling between two Golden Oreo wafers. The filling is dyed with one orange side and one yellow side to mimic the appearance of an actual piece of candy corn. They’re forgetting the white tips, but… whatever. This is the level of commitment we’re dealing with.

The cookie part of the sandwich does not balance out the extreme sweetness of this filling at all, and that’s probably because they’re Golden Oreos, which I think are sweeter than the original chocolate Oreo wafers. In fact, they amp up the sugariness to 1000.87 percent based on my Sugar-o-Meter readings. (Full disclosure: The Sugar-o-Meter is just a girl I know who bit into the cookie and said, “That’s really sugary.”) Candy Corn Oreos have the same satisfying crunch as regular Oreos, and you could probably dunk them in milk. However, I’m weird about milk the same way some of you are weird about candy corn, so I can’t give you any advice on dunking your Oreos without feeling nauseated. So let’s move on.

As I mentioned before, Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreo cookies smell like cupcakes, so it makes sense that the crème filling tastes like vanilla frosting. Seriously, that’s what these Oreos taste like to me – sugary Vanilla cupcakes with buttercream frosting. Don’t get me wrong… They’re yummy, and I didn’t dislike these Oreos at all. However, they are not Candy Corn-flavored. There wasn’t a note of honey or mellowcreme-style flavor. Nothing about these Oreos besides the color scheme evokes the experience of real candy corn. If Nabisco wanted to make a Vanilla Cupcake Oreo next, they could just change the food coloring of the crème and re-release these sandwich cookies.

So basically, I was looking forward to an Oreo that tasted like one of my favorite Halloween candies, and instead, I got a cake frosting-derived interpretation of one of the world’s most-loved and most-hated holiday confections, which totally missed the mark. These Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreos do not taste like candy corn at all. I’m putting that down as a “con,” but I bet many of you would count that as a “pro.”

(Nutrition Facts – 2 cookies – 150 calories, 7 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 80 milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 12 grams of sugar, less than 1 gram of protein, 0% vitamin A, 0% calcium, and 4% iron.)

Item: Nabisco Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreo
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 10.5 ounces (297 g)
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Filling tastes like vanilla buttercream frosting. Pleasant yet strong cupcake aroma. Real Candy Corn. Medals shaped like candy corn.
Cons: Candy Corn Oreos do not taste like candy corn. Rotten dog teeth. May be too sweet for some people to handle. The thought of milk being used for dunking.

Meet the cookie I am sure Guantanamo Bay serves to its residents.

Nabisco’s Coconut Delight Oreo Fudge Cremes.

They do have a coconut-ish flavor. They are delightful, if you enjoy getting punched in the stomach. They are not Oreos. They are indeed fudgy, if waxy chocolate is the definition for fudge. They are not creamy or creme-mey. I could leave it at that and you would know all there is to know about these cookies.

I’m not a cookie whore. When I want something sweet, it’s either chewy Starburst (I prefer the Sugus brand if you can find them in Asian markets) or vermouth. However, I do have a soft spot for sandwich cookies. If you place a Nutter Butter or a no-name lemon sandwich cookie in front of me, I’ll gobble them up shamelessly. I’ll even eat the Dolph Lundgren of Oreos, Hydrox.

When I first heard of these “delights,” I was expecting a normal Oreo cookie with coconut flavored cream in the middle, and then dipped in fudge. Like my parents, expectation leads to disappointment.

So what is this thing Nabisco is doing to an Oreo? The cookie is a single Oreo wafer with coconut cream layered on top and then dipped in chocolate “fudge.” It neither resembles nor performs like the beloved sandwich cookie.

It’s as if Outback Steakhouse came out with a new Aussie cheese fries and they were just stupid ‘ol potato chips with bacon bits sprinkled on top with Greek yogurt plopped thoughtlessly. Boooooo!

That’s not Aussie cheese fries and this is no friggin’ Oreo. I want to twist that cookie and selectively deconstruct it with my tongue as I eat each element separately. I want to dunk it in a cold glass of whole milk. I want to pretend that these things are poker chips as I stack them in edible columns. In short, I want an Oreo.

Not even on Earth-Three where the Justice League is villainous, Wonder Woman is even hotter and the Joker is a good guy, would anybody there consider this an Oreo. I was reluctant to write this review because I had to filter my strong dislike to write something coherent.

My first draft went something like this, “I fucking hate these fucking cookies that are not fucking good at fucking all because they fucking suck the fucking dog’s fucking tongue for fucks sake!”

Yeah, I agree with you… it’s a run on sentence.

Upon opening the cookies, you are slapped in the face with this fake buttery smell. It was a bit off-putting but my father-in-law and wife seemed not to mind. I shrugged and hesitated to eat one because of the strange smell.

The coconut creme was nutty and tasted artificial. Furthermore, the white stuff was similar to paste and a bit chalky. I couldn’t stomach the so-called chocolate fudge because it was very plastic and had an excessive fake buttery flavor. It’s akin to I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter with its weird, not quite butter smell and flavor.

The sole saving grace was the cookie, which was crisp and deep with cocoa flavors.

I was hoping this Oreo would be close to a Mounds candy bar, but the cookie as a whole tasted like an overly-buttery, too-sweet, and nutty mess. I ate a few because I thought maybe the flavors would temper a bit. But nope.

Nabisco also succeeded in creating something with almost every unpleasant texture to mouths everywhere. In fact, if these were soggy, then this depressing cookie would be complete.

I champion Oreos and their foray into assorted flavors, but this specific variety I cannot. My father-in-law devoured them but the poor guy is totally restricted from all things sweet and fatty. Take that for what it’s worth.

I’m all for trying new twists on familiar subjects but more often than not, they fail miserably like the Americanized 1998 Godzilla (who was awesomely killed off in 2004’s Godzilla: Final Wars), but I’m also not for torturing my taste buds. Sorry Nabisco, but we’ll always have the Creamsicle Oreo.

(Nutrition Facts – 3 cookies per serving – 180 calories, 80 calories from fat, 9 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 70 milligrams of sodium, 60 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 20 grams of sugars, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Nabisco Coconut Delight Oreo Fudge Cremes
Purchased Price: $3.99
Size: 11.3 ounce package
Purchased at: Publix
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: The cookie is crisp and definitely chocolate flavored. Cookie whores. Coconut is nutty. Trying to come up with positive things to say about this Oreo variety. American Godzilla getting vaporized by the Godzilla we all know and love. Oreo taking chances on different flavors.
Cons: Waxy chocolate, pasty creme and fake buttery flavor. Trying to find something positive in something terrible. Being restricted from all things sweet and fatty. Earth-Three Lex Luthor sucks.

According to the internet, I’ve been saying sherbet wrong all these years. I thought it was pronounced how Nabisco presents it with their new Limited Edition Ice Cream Oreo Rainbow Shure, Bert!

But it turns out it’s pronounced sher-bit and it rhymes with hermit.

Oh, hold on for a second. The internet is telling me it’s pronounced sherr-bet.

Oh wait, Nabisco is also correct.

Geez, internet, you’re no help. You’re as reliable as Price is Right audience members shouting random numbers at contestants.

If there’s one thing more frustrating than pronouncing sherbet, it was my attempts to get my hands on a package of Limited Edition Ice Cream Oreo Rainbow Shure, Bert! It’s a limited edition flavor exclusive to Walmart, but I visited my nearest Walmart several times over the course of three weeks and each time I walked out empty handed. After being disappointed for the umpteenth time, I decided to drive 17 miles to the next farthest Walmart, which had a diabetes-causing stock of Limited Edition Ice Cream Oreo Rainbow Shure, Bert!

So to Walmart store #5274, you’re awesome! And, to Walmart store #3478, I hope the Sam’s Club on top of you gets so heavy that it crushes you.

If you were able to purchase a package of Limited Edition Ice Cream Oreo Rainbow Shure, Bert!, congratulations, you have in your possession a tasty sandwich cookie.

It has a strong fruity aroma that hit my nose soon after lifting the easy open pull tab for the first time. It did smell like sherbet and what I imagine releasing the ghosts of the Fruit of the Loom guys would smell like. Limited Edition Ice Cream Oreo Rainbow Shure, Bert! is made up of raspberry and lime filling in between two Golden Oreo cookies. The raspberry and lime creme ratio varies from cookie to cookie, but I thought they all tasted the same.

One of the issues I had with last year’s Limited Edition Creamsicle Oreo cookies was that the Creamsicle flavor was hidden behind the Golden Oreo cookies, but that was not the case with these Rainbow Shure, Bert! Oreo cookies. Actually, because the sherbet flavor is quite strong, I think some eaters might think they’re a bit too sweet.

When I first heard about these cookies, I thought what kind of rainbow sherbet has only two flavors, but the raspberry and lime combination was extremely tasty and it did taste like sherbet. The raspberry creme had very little tartness and the lime had an equal amount of sourness, but they were both really sweet. While the raspberry was noticeable while chewing the cookie, it disappeared soon after and my taste buds were left with the lime flavor, which lingered in my mouth long after the cookie was swallowed.

The Limited Edition Ice Cream Oreo Rainbow Shure, Bert! cookies are damn good, but if you want to make them slightly better, albeit slightly tougher to bite through, I’d recommend sticking some in the freezer for a few hours. For some reason, the freezing temperatures enhances the sherbet flavor. I’d also like to suggest you not eat these Oreo cookies by twisting the top off and licking the creme. I thought they were significantly less enjoyable that way.

While I still don’t know how to properly pronounce the word “sherbet,” I do know these Limited Edition Ice Cream Oreo Rainbow Shure, Bert! cookies are super duper delectable and if you’re able to find them, I’d suggest you pick them up.

(Nutrition Facts – 2 cookies – 150 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1 gram of polyunsaturated fat, 3 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 80 milligrams of sodium, 15 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 12 grams of sugar, and less than 1 gram of protein.)

Other Limited Edition Ice Cream Oreo Rainbow Shure, Bert! reviews:
Junk Food Guy
Fatguy Food Blog

Item: Limited Edition Ice Cream Oreo Rainbow Shure, Bert!
Price: $3.48
Size: 15.25 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Super duper tasty. Slightly better when placed in the freezer for a few hours. Crunchy. Smells and tastes like sherbet. Doing a touchdown dance when I finally found these cookies. Walmart store #5274.
Cons: Might be hard to find. Walmart exclusive. Might be a bit too sweet for some. Which is the correct pronunciation of sherbet? That damn exclamation point in its name. Walmart store #3478.

The way I see it, turning 100 is a pretty big freaking deal. Unless you happen to be a member of the Yoda species, in which case turning 100 is something to the equivalent of turning 15. Stuck somewhere between the celebratory awkwardness of entering the teen years that comes with a 13th birthday and the license to act like an idiot of the 18th birthday, turning 15 can be pretty mediocre.

I don’t look for mediocrity in my cookies (I leave that for granola bars and Subway sandwiches), and I sure don’t expect mediocrity when it comes to my all-time favorite brand of cookie hitting the century mark. So when I missed out on being invited to the party of reviews for the Limited Edition Birthday Cake Oreo, I was pretty perturbed. Fortunately, Oreo’s slightly younger brother Golden Oreo Fudge Creme is also celebrating the brand’s 100th birthday, although I’m not sure how that exactly works when I consider I’m 23 and have no recollection of the Golden Oreos or Fudge Cremes from my elementary school days.

I also don’t recall resealable packages, but hats off to Nabisco for standardizing this marvel of cookie engineering on their products. As anyone who has ever eaten stale Oreo crumbs will tell you, a chewy Oreo is a soulless Oreo, not to mention one which loses its trademarked cocoa smell. Even before fully unveiling the “lift here” tab on my box, I was immediately greeted by a slightly different aroma, although one no less nostalgic or pleasing. The cloying fragrance of sprinkles (‘jimmies’, to you old folks) is approaching sticking a funfetti cupcake up your nose territory, but nearly a decade and a half removed from Discovery Zone birthday parties, so I’ll take it. Like Qin Shi Huang’s army of terracotta soldiers the Fudge Cremes are unchipped and arrayed in perfect order, inviting the kind of unabashed ebullience of digging in that you’d expect from a six year old beholding said birthday cupcake.

I may not be six years old anymore, but I can still work my way through a box of cookies like one. The first taste, however, is more dull sheen than chocolate frosting, with the fudge creme and sprinkles tasting decidedly like fake fudge cream and tasteless morsels of dextrose and chemically engineered sprinkles. The cookie base is a weak crisp of shortbread flavor but little more, while the creme — that deliciously smooth yet somehow fluffy blanket of rich white synthetic filling — is lost within a crater of shortbread and filling of fake fudge.

“Fudge” might not exactly be what I said to myself after this first and certainly lackluster taste, but there is redemption of momentary disgruntledness. Should you leave your entire box in a hot car during this fit of It’s-my-birthday-and-I’ll-cry-if-I-want-to-rage, only to later return, you’ll find the sheeny, tasteless fudge to have melted into the kind of finger-licking chocolate frosting goo that comes from putting a chocolate donut in the microwave. Melting into the still crispy golden base, it’s somehow full of an admirable synthetic flavor that even the folks at a Whole Foods would find tempting.

Right off the store shelves, the Oreo Fudge Creme’s 100th birthday is a lot like celebrating your 15th birthday. But with a warm car and a little time, it’s a chocolate frosting coated treat that recalls the best of bygone birthday parties, minus the actual presents, of course.
 

(Nutrition Facts – 2 cookies – 130 calories, 60 calories from fat, 6 grams of fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat*, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 40 milligrams of sodium, 25 milligrams of potassium, 18 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, and less than 1 gram of protein.)

*made with partially hydrogenated oil

Other Limited Edition Birthday Cake Golden Oreo Fudge Cremes reviews:
Foodette Reviews

Item: Limited Edition Birthday Cake Golden Oreo Fudge Cremes
Price: $2.99 (on sale)
Size: 11.3 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Fudge coating smells just like chocolate frosting, and once melted, tastes like it too. Finger licking goodness of melted fake chocolate. Resealable packaging kicks the heck out of cookie jar freshness. Smells like a birthday party at Discovery Zone, minus the crappy pizza. Oreo still going strong at the big 1-0-0.
Cons: Sprinkles that taste too much like sprinkles. Creme filling that made the original Oreo so great is overpowered. ‘Fudge’ coating is tasteless sheen of palm oil when not melted. Cookie base is less than memorable. Smelling like cupcakes for an entire day. 15th birthday blues.