Dear Oreo, What In The What Are You Thinking?
Look, I don't want to make any false accusations here, but the people at Oreo may be smoking some wacky cigarettes. They've been coming out with some pretty weird flavors of late (see: Berry Burst Ice Cream Oreo, Creamsicle Oreo) that might have been an ill-advised foray into fruit/fruit themes, but were just as likely some dude's sudden decision that going meta on Oreos would be like, the coolest thing ever. Cookies that taste like other desserts, man! That sh$$ would be craazy. Or maybe it was the latter, minus the trees and plus a big ego trip. I have the power to make you eat crappy desserts in the guise of Oreos. You cannot resist. Muah ha ha.
What I'm getting at is that it seems almost impossible that a group of normal flavor developers sat in a room and came up with the newest limited edition Oreo, Ice Cream Oreo Rainbow Shure, Bert! , by thinking mmm, you know what pretty unpopular treat we should make into a cookie? Sherbet. And why choose one flavor when we all know that those white buckets of rainbow (which is really just tricolor) sherbet are everyone's favorite? And then a group of taste testers tried these new cookies and thought mmm, I never buy rainbow sherbet, but this pseudo sherbet paste sandwiched between two vanilla cookies is rocking my world. Someone pass the milk.
These things are terrible. I suppose they get points for the fact that these cookies smell (and boy, when you open that package do you get a waft) exactly of white bucket, we-aint-got-no-ice-cream-sandwiches-left-sorry-kids-now-lets-sing-a-song, summer camp rainbow sherbet. If authenticity is something to be praised in an Oreo—but Candy Corn Oreo, I think we long left that one long behind.
Anyway, these taste less like sherbet, which I've enjoyed on occasion (it is just milky sorbet, kind of), and more like indiscriminate fake fruit. Somewhere between whatever tropical means in tropical bubblegum and black raspberry, though that's like assigning unicorn tears to a flavor and then using it as a reference point. The middle is so fruity, in fact, that it clashes pretty violently with the vanilla scented exterior cookies (which actually aren't bad on their own).
In short, why make Oreos that stray so far from the original cookie they might as well change their shape and name? The answer is probably "brand loyalty/make money", so fine, then why not choose flavors we all like, maybe toffee or coffee, and if you have to go the way of ice cream, how about chocolate chip cookie dough or rocky road?
Oreo: I love you but you've lost me. I do hope you'll find your way home.