‘Tastes like caustic slime’: The ultimate vanilla yoghurt pouch taste test

$3.20 for 150g

Cheesy, powdery, ripe; this has all the hallmarks of the protein devil. How can something so implicitly wet wick every bead of moisture from my mouth? Why am I now thirsty? Feels extremely unnatural in the way that it doesn’t at all resemble food. A mild zing at the finish. See you in hell.

Score: 2/10

$2.00 for 130g

Tastes like chalk and dust and the stagnant whiff of Grandma’s wardrobe. Also, why does it taste like a tortilla? Is it the … *removes blindfold and checks ingredients* … apple juice? WHAT DO YOU MEAN APPLE JUICE?! Why is it tortilla-flavoured, and why is there apple juice in the yoghurt?

Score: 2.3/10

$2.20 for 130g

Thin. Spewy. Sugar-free? Back-of-the-throat mucus starting to build. Acidic, watery, little in the way of vanilla. I reckon this is some sort of “natural yoghurt” derivative but with all of the goodness stripped from it. *Removes blindfold and checks ingredients* … PEAR PUREE?! Surely that goes on the front label. And still it tastes like caustic slime.

Score: 2.5/10

$1.25 for 110g

Thin, wet, decent whack of vanilla, not much acid, not much tartness, just absolute nothingness. Void sludge – sludge to disassociate in the void with. Lingering vanilla taste, slightly custardy aftertaste, no satisfaction. Bit of baby sick on the soft palate. I don’t want to yell any more but this has apple juice and lemon pulp in it, too. Honestly, what are we doing here?

Score: 3.2/10

$2.40 for 150g

OK, this one blew some dry crusty chunks at me before revealing the yoghurt within. Foul. Really thick and stodgy – wish I had a spoon right now but society has progressed past the need for spoons. Proteiny but not too chalky, kind of custardy vanilla flavour, very little tartness, feels quite low on sugar. Had to squeeze the bag pretty hard. *Removes blindfold* Black pouch for a yoghurt? What is this, Lynx Africa?

Score: 3.7/10

$2.50 for 150g

High viscosity. Light vanilla flavour, a bit of citric acid, a creeping chalkiness after a few seconds. Unsatisfying; suspect this might be sugar-free. A tall, slender pouch. You know what would taste better than this and is also full of protein? A can of tuna, an egg, a chicken – anything.

Score: 4/10

$2.50 for 130g

CRUSTY. Don’t have a dry crust up the top, you freak! Grainy – thick to the point where you almost need to sit on it coax the gunk out the spout. Doesn’t really taste like much. Very thick, a little bit tart. Nothing. But also no meddling fruits in the ingredients, so that’s something.

Score: 4.2/10

80c for 70g

Watery. Bit of vanilla, not much tartness, not particularly smooth; nothing much doing here. I will say, this thinner viscosity is much more agreeable in pouch form. Drinking from a pouch, like the Mongols of yore, makes more sense to me than eating from a pouch. My heart is … softening; this one has grown on me.

Score: 4.5/10

$2.40 for 150g

So sweet, so proteiny. That’s insanely sweet – and it’s not borne of sugar, I can tell you that much. Why are there so many of these things? I can’t think of any other product that has this many direct competitors for one flavour. Maybe plain crisps. Anyway, kind of plush, a little bit hot at the back of the mouth, extremely sweet, not overly thick. Can imagine this pairing nicely with the bin.

Score: 4.8/10

$2.20 for 110g

Is that Petit Miam? Feels like it could be sugar-free. Not very flavourful, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing when it comes to the sucky pouch. Not creamy, not luscious, just kind of flat. Feels like synthetic slime from the future – like nutrigoop. Vaguely vanilla-ish. *Removes blindfold* … oh, pardon me, Cocobella!

Score: 5/10

$2.30 for 150g

Nooo! Another film of crusted gunk at the top. A warm, coagulated crust, like you might find at the top of a tomato sauce bottle, only this one is full of acidophilus or Maximus Meridius or whatever. Nasty. But once you breach the crust and pass into the goo thereunder you find a reasonably balanced yoghurt. It feels sugar-free, but it also feels like it’s exfoliating my tongue. Not much vanilla, medium mouthfeel, moderate tang.

Score: 5.2/10

$2.00 for 130g

Ooh – kind of tastes like a Milko. Remember them? Rich with that caramelised, boiled milk lolly flavour. Long-life UHT milk-type thing. Another hint of tortilla – what is that? Anyone know? If you’re already penning an angry response letter to this piece, please include your hypothesis as to the phantom tortilla flavour I’m getting. Thank you. I like the viscosity on this one. The flavour is truly unusual, and I like that, too.

Score: 5.5/10

$3.00 for 150g

Had to really work to get that one out of the teat. Stubborn muck indeed! This feels proteiny in the extreme. Almost have to chew, it’s that thick – very fudgy. Not particularly vanilla-y, not particularly tart, just a big, thick, chewy boy.

Score: 5.6/10

$2.70 for 140g

OK, this is, dare I say, not bad. Creamier, and more sugar for sure. A classic vanilla. No tang, so I’m guessing this is in no way inspired by the yoghurt traditions of Greece. A safe, garden-variety vanilla with a plush mouthfeel. Really coats you up and then dries you out, though. *Removes blindfold* I see. Directly inspired by the yoghurt traditions of Greece. Whoops!

Score: 6.2/10

$2.50 for 130g

Yes! A consistency we call “all suck”. When it comes to the pouch, I have to say, the watery ones simply make a better drink. The global evidence is overwhelming: China has suannai, South Asia has lassi, and Turkiye has ayran. There are myriad other examples. This is sweet, vanilla-heavy, and liquidy. If you’re going to develop a pouched snack, just make it sweet and thin and fun. Justify the sack! It’s crazy being all austere and serious about the provenance and quality of your yoghurt if you’re piping your product into a sucky pouch marketed at adults. Great tartness to offset the sweet. Take my money. Now, where’d I put that custard…

Score: 7.5/10

$2.40 for 140g

Now that is something I would suck out of a pouch. Why? Because it’s custard. And custard is hilarious, and it makes complete sense that you would suck it out of a pouch because you’re probably a child in this scenario and children suck teats! And thus, we have arrived at the central contradiction of the sucky pouch – yoghurt, in its most grown-up form, is far too self-serious to be imbibed from the synthetic bosom! Anyway, this is some extremely processed custard in a sack. Good gear. Unfair to score it higher than everything else but it is objectively better. Note to self: this is a core memory.

Score: 7/10