The smartest thing that any celebrity could ever do is to launch an alcohol line. Well, it may not be the smartest business decision—alcohol, and the food and beverage industry in general, is a notoriously crowded space—but it’s a move that I certainly enjoy, and therefore is the smartest way to appeal to me.
I wasn’t old enough to drink (brag) when Real Housewives of New York alum Ramona Singer had her line of pinot grigio, aptly titled Ramona Pinot Grigio, which is now but a distant memory outside of Singer’s $100-a-month storage space. But I still regularly patrol online marketplaces looking for a bottle that might have been collecting dust in someone’s cellar for years. I’ve come to peace with the fact that the exorbitant amount of money that I’d throw down on this relic means I should never have children.
If a celeb puts their name on a bottle, I’m keen to try it. I’m a beverage fiend, after all. Mary J. Blige’s Sun Goddess wine is divine. Kendall Jenner’s 818 is as mundane as she is. I won’t buy Ryan Reynolds’ Aviation gin on principle, but I’ve finagled my way into trying it for free. Mariah Carey’s Black Irish liqueur? Come on, you think I was born yesterday? It’s delectable.
More broadly speaking, I will famously try any product with any tier of celebrity attached to it. Passersby who caught me on my way to an organic market one morning last December to buy the two ingredients needed to make Lindsay Lohan’s “Pilk” would describe my step as “skipping with a disconcerting jolliness.” That’s why I was put on this earth: to consume celebrity-made and superstar-endorsed products, and write about my experiences. Before the aliens explode this planet, PDFs of my ramblings will be preserved on a USB, used as an eternal illustration of the spoils of humanity.
All that said, you can imagine my unmitigated excitement when I found out last month that Jennifer Lopez was launching a new line of low-alcohol spritz beverages, called Delola. This was exciting for two reasons: my aforementioned affinity for celebrity products, and the product’s name itself, which harkened back to an era of J.Lo I was sure that she had wanted to completely scrub from public knowledge—but more on that in a minute.
My new life’s mission was to get my hands on all three flavors, a protracted process that only heightened my hype. Seven weeks later, I am living the Delola life. And I must tell you, dear reader, that Jennifer Lopez—esteemed actress, musician, and cold cup warrior—has created a product so intriguing and superb that I’m worried about the ferocious demand it’ll provoke once it goes nationwide.
And for good reason! Delola is not simply a cash grab for Lopez. There’s some serious mixologist artistry that has gone into the making of these things, thanks in part to being co-developed by renowned bartender Lynnette Marrero. But what’s more, it’s a drink that bears the name of an alter ego of sorts that I would have bet money on Lopez never referencing again. Upon its launch, Delola attributed its name to “Lola,” Lopez’s longtime nickname for her “more playful, carefree side.” Ten frantic texts to close friends soon revealed that most people don’t realize Lola was also the name of a short-lived artistic personality that Lopez abandoned after a 2009 single that failed to perform.
Lopez briefly worked under the name Lola for “Fresh Out the Oven,” which was actually her first collaboration with the King of Miami, Pitbull. The song even got a trippy, Jonas Akerlund-directed video. Those of us with a finger on the pulse were keen on Lopez’s mysterious new personality and earworm single. (Years later, I even intently preserved its history before I took up my post here at The Daily Beast’s Obsessed.) But after a tepid release, it was relegated in the press to the dreaded “buzz single” graveyard, and Lola was never heard from again.
Until now! Lola has been resurrected, and I feel similarly to how Mary Magdalene must have felt when she discovered the stone had been rolled away. And what better way to celebrate the return of Lola than to cheers with friends over a glass of her new beverage line?
There are three, low-calorie, low-alcohol flavors in the Delola spritz line: Bella Berry, made with premium vodka; L’Orange, crafted with premium amaro; and Paloma Rosa, which was not so much created with premium tequila as it was sent down from the heavens on a golden stream of light, twinkling in God’s divine love. Each flavor is 111 calories or less per serving, and ranges from 10.5-percent to 11.5-percent alcohol by volume. Basically, Delola is intended to be a pleasurable sipping experience. These are not for your little sister’s rager of a college graduation party—unless she’s the proud owner of a CD copy of Love?, in which case, she should be knighted, not wasting her time with school.
The team at Delola sent me all three flavors to try, as they’re currently only available in a handful of states in America while the rollout continues. How does one prepare themselves to step into the Delola life? I’ve never even been to Italy—whose lush coastlines were the inspiration for the spritz line—and I’m still being pelted with tomatoes on the streets for not liking Mafia Mamma. But being a Delo-lover is more about mindset, anyway. The beverages themselves will cover the cost of plane tickets and lodging.
It’s difficult to choose which flavor to try first, as each Delola bottle is so beautifully packaged—with some serious glassware embellishments—I didn’t want to twist the top off to desecrate it. The spritzes themselves are bright and colorful; they don’t have that eerie, artificial malt liquor hue to them. The most vivid is the Bella Berry, which I cracked open first. I poured some into a wine glass and took a sip, my brow furrowing a bit. Bella Berry’s taste wasn’t quite up to my expectations. I then gazed upon the bottle’s several written proddings to consume Delola chilled or on ice—duh. That one’s on me. “Never go against The Mother,” Lopez says, shooting me dead with a sniper rifle from six miles away.
On ice, Bella Berry fares better. The taste is less Bud Lite Strawberita and more syrupy strawberry, though a bit too saccharine for my taste. It’s almost like if you stuck one of the lollipops that the pediatrician gave you as a child into the refrigerator. Though, I’m attributing my slight distaste to Bella Berry being the vodka-based flavor. Everyone has their liquor that they simply refuse to touch, mine is vodka. Enough 4 am chicken sandwiches after partying with contraband in your Fashion Institute of Technology dorm room, and you’d agree.
Though I wouldn’t mind Bella Berry if it were my only option, my minor aversion to it made me hesitate when moving over to the Paloma Rosa, Delola’s tequila-based spritz. I had let the remaining two flavors chill before trying them, following mother’s orders. Paloma Rosa incorporates elderflower and grapefruit, two notes I adore, so my expectations were lofty. To my surprise, delight, and utter elation, Paloma Rosa is probably the single best ready-to-drink cocktail I’ve ever had in my life.
It’s light, extremely flavorful, and has the perfect hint of tequila, which I find to be necessary for beverages like this. I’m not looking for candy, I want my palette to be reminded that this is a cocktail. Paloma Rosa tastes not just as good, but better than any expensive mixed drink I’ve splurged on at a restaurant. It’s Delola’s crown jewel, as far as I’m concerned. When it properly drops on the East Coast, you’ll have to line up behind me, as I’ll be camped outside, waiting for the liquor store to open. Yes, I’m aware of how concerning that will look.
After Paloma Rosa raised the bar to unimaginable heights, I was left with my final offering: L’Orange, the amaro-based spritz. To say I adore amaro would be to only skim the surface. I know I look 19, but I’m actually on the verge of 29, and I don’t really mess with hard liquor much anymore. Alcohol consumption is a sipping experience, and I love a nice, low-alcohol, full-bodied, fruity amaro. Anything that makes me feel ’80s-era Kathleen Turner, draped in red satin and smoking a cigarette while I use the cool of my glass to ice my neck, I will buy.
L’Orange is another total gobsmack. It’s certainly fruity, without tasting synthetic. The amaro comes through just enough, which was a wonderful realization, as I feared a lower-alcohol spirit would get lost in the formulation. The notes of passionfruit sprinkle over the orange, and neither overpowers the other. It’s a complete and total hit. L’Orange is the premium alternative to an Aperol spritz, which will cost you as much as $50 for ingredients in New York if you’re looking to make one yourself (and the starting price point of $18 per glass at a restaurant isn’t much better).
Delola blows other ready-to-drink cocktails out clean out of the water, easily. Too many pre-prepared drinks like this—especially ones from name brands—burst with sugar, calories, and hangovers, instead of flavor. Delola really is different, something pretty special. It looks, tastes, and feels like an opulent, high-end experience. And my god, do we all deserve a little luxury in our lives. It’s always made me a little woeful to think about Lola, the alter ego that never really was. Perhaps she was too fresh out the oven. But one thing is for sure: No one can call Delola under-baked.
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