When you’re as big a Resident Evil fan as I am, you’ll sometimes make curious investments. For some, it’s splashing cash on a handsome Leon Kennedy action figure, where others would elect to shell out literal thousands on a Lady Dimitrescu statue that stands at nearly three feet in height.

I can’t quite fiscally justify spending so much money on a voluptuous statue nearly half my size, however I did have my own unique moment of weakness in March of last year. While working as an editor for Twinfinite, an article came across my desk from one of my colleagues detailing an elaborate Resident Evil-themed collector’s box.

Coming courtesy of German-based beverage merchandise manufacturer GameFlavor, the Resident Evil First Aid Drink Collector’s Box is modelled after familiar items from 2002’s seminal Resident Evil, and touted as “a must-have for every “Resident Evil” enthusiast”.

Such luxuries don’t come cheap, of course, and with shipping factored in I was staring down the barrel of a $340 purchase that I had no way of justifying beyond my burgeoning RE fanaticism. So I gave it a long, hard think before pulling the trigger and making my order (that same day).

Though it was initially estimated to arrive in Q3 2023, it was hit with a few setbacks that pushed its arrival back to March 2024. I’m no stranger to delayed Resident Evil merch, so I was decidedly unfazed. But now it’s here, it’s mine, and I’ve rifled through the tantalising contents within.

Right from the get-go, I was stricken by how premium the presentation of everything was. The items are all stationed snugly in EVA foam, and to ensure ultimate safety, the drink box was stored in matryoshka fashion — within a series of larger boxes and a bevy of packing peanuts that Ezi enjoyed rummaging through. He also chewed on the drink box a little bit, which I was less enthused by.

There’s a real weightiness to the whole package, no doubt bolstered by the fact that there’s roughly 3 litres worth of liquid sloshing about. The collector’s box houses ten soft drinks adorned with a first aid spray motif, and one cute little spray cap you can attach afterwards to render the empty can into a display piece.

Speaking of display piece, the collector’s box itself resembles the enduring storage container. It’s so accurate, I suspect that when I remove an object from within it, it goes missing from someone else’s collector’s box.

…In case it wasn’t clear, that’s an obtuse joke referencing the mythical interconnectedness of the storage boxes. I’m just trying to pad my word count with something other than enthusiasm for how things look, you know.

As silly as it sounds, I’m most delighted by the ink ribbons. They’re just little tins, sure, but they are the exact dimensions I would imagine the coveted in-game to be. They house four different ‘herb’ mixes; just like in Resident Evil, there’s green (green tea Matcha), red (hibiscus flower), yellow (turmeric root), and blue (Aronia, or the much less appealing sounding chokeberry).

In addition to the certificate of authenticity and a handsome making of booklet, the whole shebang is topped off with eight recipe cards incorporating the ingredients. They have RE-themed names to really tie everything together, and I’m most delighted by the dad joke “Berry” Burton, which suits his character to a tee.

You can check out my quick unpacking video above, but if you haven’t already gotten the impression from the above prose, I’m really quite stoked with the visual impact of this piece. It’s exactly as advertised, immaculately presented, and thoughtfully packaged. There is nothing I can fault about it, really, other than my own photographic ineptitude that fails to convey just how lovely it all is.

Trying to scour the internet for negative feedback, the only things I’ve found are wariness of its steep cost — it is indeed expensive, but you get what you paid for, and this kind of boutique purchase is always going to fetch a high price — and one commenter who believes the storage container should have been made of actual wood.

Sometimes I wonder if people are aware of how weight works when you consider the large dimensions of this product. But sure, you keep on dreaming, friend.

But of course, there’s the more practical aspect of a consumable that we’re yet to address, and that’s how everything tastes! I wasn’t just going to let those drinks fester in a drawer, after all (I did that once as a kid, and when one leaked it totally ruined my wardrobe).

The first aid drinks themselves are quite refreshing. A mix of cucumber, lime, and a hint of mint, it goes down incredibly smoothly. The cucumber flavour is the most distinctive aspect, and though that might sound a bit bland, it was definitely the correct choice to make in the end. It’s the most subtle of the key ingredients, for one thing, and would have been overwhelmed had it not been featured.

More importantly, though, is the fact that the first aid sprays are intended to be used as a base for aspiring mixologists. Framed differently, if you’ve got all these wild herbal ingredients at your disposal and everything just tastes like lime anyway, what’s the point, exactly?

On paper, some of those herbs look more palatable than others. The blue herb’s berry flavour is the most conventional option, pairing well with the lime undertones of the first aid mixer. It would be the one I would most likely incorporate into my rotation of non-RE concoctions.

The red herb has an earthy undertone, and would be best suited for a hard liquor with a strong body. I’m thinking a whisky off the top of my head, though I’m not necessarily a whisky man myself, so you can take that with a grain of salt (or hibiscus).

The green tea matcha of the green herb is more bark than bite, with an alluring aroma that is somewhat betrayed by its surprisingly humble flavour. With that being said, I can see a lot of potential in its versatility. God knows where I’d work it in, unless I legitimately just start using it as a base for green tea.

I figured from the outset that the yellow herb’s ground tumeric was going to be the hardest sell, and it is not going to be for everyone. It smells more like a snack than a drink item, but its saving grace is the way it blends with the first aid spray. The subtlety of the cucumber helps settle down an otherwise chaotic element, but clearly, it is best used with consideration.

Tragically, I haven’t had the opportunity to unveil the drinks’ full potential, courtesy of the packaged recipe cards. And to be transparent, the reason comes down to the specificity of the required ingredients. A well stocked bar might have elderflower syrup on-hand, but I do not — and considering how much money I’ve already put down for the drink box, the notion of investing $100 more for items I would only buy for this one, specific reason was just a little too much for me.

Who knows? Maybe somewhere down the line I’ll have a need for all the related paraphernalia, at which point I can at long last taste the sweet nectar of the Cinatiropa or the Samurai Edge. Until that time, you can consider this review to be incomplete. Which is fine by me, considering this is a vanity website where I do stupid shit like ranking my cats’ potential in a bodega.

Overall, I’m stoked. It’s perfect as a display piece and playfully experimental as a consumable. I’d recommend it to anyone who has too much cash and too little in the way of common sense, much like myself.