Delicious potable representation of the reputed ‘mint-brownie’ in these parts.  The cooling sensation strikes early in the sip, and refreshing mint flavor develops in the latter half— accompanied by strong dark chocolate throughout the journey.  The flavors are expertly combined to provide that satisfying, rewarding feeling that you’re sure to get; do your best to bask in the moment.

Painfully sweet, in a way that marks so many cookies ’n’ cream milks— causing me to postulate that perhaps the two are inseparable, or inevitable. The sweetness lasts well beyond the swallow and devolves to an unwelcome lining that you’ll seek to remedy. Sugar-rush seekers, this may be your calling card— all others, have ice cream instead.

Highlighted by a mature, slightly earthy cocoa flavor that remains the focus throughout. There’s a slight astringent quality to the texture that seems to increase your oral cavity’s friction coefficient, though this is remedied by taking further draws, enabling you to postpone the sensation until the pint is exhausted. Points for uniqueness.

Fantastically smooth and silky texture, and a straightforward cocoa flavor that capitulates to a pleasant, mildly-salty flick at the end. It’s a pleasure to consume at any speed—sip/lap/guzzle/etc. and remains impressively effortless in its delivery.

Chocolaty in a way that many strive for, but few achieve. The gorgeous texture delivers cocoa with care and reverence, and the flavor deliciously violates its oral curfew— reinforcing the age-old trope that sometimes it feels good to be ‘bad.’

Buttery in the way that only creamline milk can achieve— this is a perfect paradigm of the cream-to-viscosity ratio that I value so much. The flavor disperses and sustains with silky uniformity that feels effortless yet highly rewarding. 

A legitimate onslaught of flavor— hyper-sweet, uber-salty, and surprisingly peanutty. Despite its heavy-handedness, once your tastebuds (and viscera) calibrate a few sips in, it’s an enjoyable detour from the traditional.

Flavorful and clean-finishing, it’s easy to burn through a pint on a warm Tennessee spring afternoon. It paints within the lines but delivers on its promise of sweet, chocolaty refuge.

Slightly thinner and less sharp than the its glassed counterpart, but still uncompromisingly chocolaty and direct.

Drinks like a warm, velveteen pat of cocoa butter and possesses the creamy ‘soul’ that so many chocolate milks have homogenized out. Definitely one to seek out when visiting Tennessee, the U.S., or for that matter, Earth.

Bold, confident cocoa punch that is straightforward and satisfying. A higher cream content might sustain the flavor a bit further, but your appreciation will surely last well beyond the final drop.

Earthy, flat, and noticeably aggregate— perhaps an excavation site in drinkable form— albeit with a deftly tuned sweetness level and otherwise palatable characteristics. It doesn’t take much to stand out in the ‘institutional’ market, but so far it’s a half step above the field.

Syrupy sweet and strongly flavorful, though in a caramel-like direction. There’s a stickiness to the after-experience that reduces to a cloying residue devoid of either chocolate or milkiness.

Refreshingly under-sweet, but also under-flavored and dare I say, rather bland— save for a muted but very pleasant maltiness that manages to peek out for a shy hello.

Refreshingly smooth and chocolate-focused— the majority of the ‘flavor-spend’ seems dedicated to its cocoa profile. It could use a bit more support from a cream and salt perspective; I think what calories are ‘saved’ by drinking this instead of its full-fat counterpart are not nearly worth the flavor discrepancy, as Shatto’s whole chocolate milk is worldwide elite.

Flavorful, albeit in a thoroughly sweet and faux-caramel sense. It’s thicker than necessary (for 1% lowfat) and finishes with a sticky sweetness that will scratch your sugary itch, possibly drawing blood in the process.