Leave the Damn Oreo Alone

Can we talk about Oreo’s latest crime against humanity? Apparently, someone in a boardroom decided that the world desperately needed:

Yes, really. The cookie that’s been perfect since the dawn of dunking now tastes like... turkey and stuffing.

This year, Oreo dropped a “special edition” tin of cookies that come in six “festive” flavors: Turkey & Stuffing, Sweet Potato, Creamed Corn, Cranberry Sauce, Pumpkin Pie, and Caramel Apple Pie. You get two of each for twenty bucks plus shipping. Because nothing says “holiday spirit” like paying $20 to ruin dessert.

Now listen, I love Thanksgiving. I’ll fight you for the crispy corner of stuffing. I will absolutely demolish a slice ofapple pie. But I do not want my cookie to taste like gravy. That’s a cry for help, not a treat.

Why can’t Oreo just… stop? They nailed it decades ago. The Oreo is already the Beyoncé of cookies—iconic, flawless, untouchable. You don’t mess with perfection. But every season, they roll out a new “flavor innovation” that nobody asked for. Pumpkin spice in the fall (aka “tastes like a candle”), peppermint at Christmas (minty toothpaste energy), and now this Thanksgiving monstrosity.

At this point, Oreo is like that friend who just can’t leave well enough alone. “Hey guys, what if we made it taste like mashed potatoes?” No, Brenda. Sit down.

We don’t need turkey cookies or creamed corn filling. Oreos to be Oreos—crunchy, chocolatey, and dunkable in milk. It’s not coffee. It doesn’t need seasonal flavor notes or tasting flights.

So please, Nabisco, I’m begging you: put down the gravy boat, step away from the test kitchen, and remember who you are. You’re the cookie. You don’t need to reinvent Thanksgiving—you just need to stay delicious.

Leave the damn Oreo alone.