Mogu Mogu Orange

At my house growing up, we were never allowed to finish the orange juice. My dad never said a single thing, but my mom instilled the fear into us that he would do something if we ever finished it. "Don't finish the orange juice on your father." mom would say. Daily. She would say it so often that I still think it when I buy orange juice for my own house.

This drink does not taste like orange juice, but it does taste like the following made up scenario that I am going to make up right now for you, for free.

I come home from school. I'm thirsty. I drink all but a small bit of orange juice. I then quickly realize that I have drunk too much and that there is an insufficient amount for even the teeniest of glasses. I look around in the fridge. Bingo. Orange drink. You know the stuff. 0% juice. 100% gross. I hear the garage door open. Dad. Crud. I pry the cap off the orange drink and pour a generous amount into the orange juice container. It's orange and after all, orange is orange, right? Pops will never know.

Fast-forward to today and if I poured that glass of "orange juice" this is what it would taste like. Also, add some nata de coco and you're spot on.