Awful Product Review: Flamin' Hot Mountain Dew
In which I do the Dew specifically for you
There are some products in this world that are so impossibly stupid that, despite having zero reason to exist in a sane marketplace, they still must be experienced by someone. Not everyone, obviously. But for historical reasons, they must be used and that use must be documented, even if only so we can avoid these product idea misfires in the years and decades to come. Leave a better world for the kids and shit, you know?
If you haven’t guessed by now, in this column, I’ll be trying those products my whole damn self. Do you have a suggestion for something I should try that won’t injure me or get me cancelled? By all means, leave it in the comments section and I will take it under consideration.
As for this inaugural edition, I will be reviewing a creation most foul…Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew.
This is problematic for me for a couple of reasons.
For one, if you recall, my very first column here was about how this endeavor was supposed to launch over a year ago but, for health reasons, did not.
Well, there was a time when this was going to be the column that kicked things off. On account of that, the Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew I’m drinking for this was purchased a very long time ago. So long ago in fact that, as some of you eagle-eyed readers might have already noticed, the expiration date passed a long time ago.
Not “a long time ago” in the big scheme of things. It’s a blip on the radar if we’re talking world history. But it’s definitely long enough ago that we’re now well past the point where I’m usually comfortable risking it. We’re going on half a year past its prime now.
I found that a little concerning, if I’m being completely honest. Somewhere deep down in my preservative-addled gut, I know there’s nothing in soda that is going to spoil over time and strike me down with botulism. Nevertheless, I found myself compelled to at least look into it a little, mostly in the hope that I’d find a warning that would scare me enough to justify escaping the nightmare I’m about to dump down my gullet.
But nah. According to the USDA, there is no such thing as soda that is “too old” to be dangerous. It is dangerous at any age.
It’s just that, over time, the carbonation and flavor may wane. So the only thing I’m risking here is that this particular bottle might have slightly less of a “blast of heat and citrus.”
I’m fine with that.
Which brings us to the other reason this taste test is gonna be a challenge for me. Die mad about it if you want, but in my expert opinion, the Flamin’ Hot Cheetos flavor is way overrated.
For starters, anyone who grew up in the right part of the Midwest can confirm that the superior version of the “flamin’ hot” flavor comes in the form of Jay’s Hot Stuff potato chips.
Those pre-date Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and served as my first introduction to the concept of “flamin’ hot.” It’s similar to the Cheetos flavor, but with a really pleasant sweetness that is missing in most comparable products. Try them if you don’t believe me. Even if you don’t live in the Midwest you can still get them on Amazon, albeit at a premium price, which is exactly what us coastal elites deserve for constantly calling the rest of the country “flyover states.”
Even if Flamin’ Hot Cheetos weren’t a lesser version of a product that existed before them, I just kinda hate how society has started treating them like some sort of delicacy. I can accept criticism and jokes over my devout love of Arby’s, but I cannot accept it from people who stand in line for hours to eat a chicken sandwich or burger coated in Hot Cheeto dust.
That is not gourmet. That is not “elevated.” That is trash food. The sandwich in the “chicken” link has goddamn Cheez Whiz on it.
I’m fine with eating food with the words “deep fried Cheetos” in the description, but only if I’m also seeing Skid Row open for Poison at the fairgrounds grandstand at 8pm.
If you’re eating a Hot Cheeto chicken sandwich at a place that doesn’t also have a corndog on the menu, I guarantee you’re being scammed.
So I guess that brings us to this stupid soda. I should make it clear before I dive in that I’m not anti-Mountain Dew and I don’t mind at all when they get experimental with the flavors. If you can find it, Goji Citrus Strawberry Mountain Dew is a damn delight, for example.
It’s not the “Mountain Dew” half of “Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew” that I take exception to. I’ve just never walked away from drinking a Mountain Dew thinking an infusion of snack chip flavor is what the recipe needed to put it over the top, and I don’t think I will today either. But let’s see!
Upon opening the bottle, I was greeted with a pleasant “swish” sound, indicating that there is some carbonation left despite this beverage being five solid months past the date when it could still be legally sold in stores.
As for the taste…it’s good? But it’s also not good. It just tastes like orange soda at first. The “heat” doesn’t arrive until a few seconds later, and even then it’s not so much a flavor as it is a feeling. At that point it takes on the flavor of a Shirley Temple made for a child you hate. If I tasted this without knowing it was “flamin’ hot” flavored, I’d assume a cleaning product of some sort had seeped into the mix and that I should be rushed to an emergency room post-haste, like that woman in Utah who accidentally drank iced tea with lye in it.
It’s not bad, initially. It’s just immediately obvious that this is not the kind of thing regular people drink when they’re thirsty. Every friend group does include at least one person who will swear this is the best shit and drink it for as long as it’s available. But that’s just because every friend group includes at least one person who is absolutely desperate for attention, no matter what form it takes. This is a drink made for people who watch YouTube videos on their phone without headphones on public transportation. It’s for people who want to be quirky but really just know how to be off-putting.
Even worse, as you get further into it, the “heat” just kinda stays at the back of your throat, well after the rest of the flavors have dissipated. This sets up a vicious cycle where you desperately want to drink something to wash away the unpleasantness, so you drink more soda and just add to the unpleasantness.
Fortunately, I have a trick up my sleeve, and by that I mean I have another absurdly weird Mountain Dew waiting here at the office to be consumed.
That’s right! Mystery Flavor! What could it possibly be? Blue raspberry? Mushroom gravy? Parking lot snow? The possibilities are endless!
To give myself at least a little heads up as to what I’m in for, I consulted my good friend and podcast co-host Andy “the Baja Blaster” Sell, a leading expert in the field of Mountain Dew varietals. He said this:
“Okay, so this is a thing Mountain Dew does every year at Halloween. It’s a mystery flavor, and then they reveal what it was in November. It’s usually a generic way to work in a specific type of candy. They did Skittles one year, they did Starburst one year. I have a guess for what this year’s flavor is, but I don’t want to spoil it for you. But when I tried it I went out and bought a fuckin’ 12 pack.”
Well that’s intriguing, even if it leaves open the possibility that the mystery flavor could be “Flamin’ Hot Twix” or some shit.
Fortunately, there is no chocolate or caramel involved. With Andy’s quote poisoning my mind, the only flavor I could come up with to describe the taste is “Mystery Flavor Airheads.” I know making the mystery flavor something that is also mystery flavored would be a troll move of the highest order, but we’re talking about a soda company that has zero qualms about selling you a beverage with “a blast of artificial fruitcake flavor.”
I put nothing past them. But as it turns out, I’m incorrect. This year’s mystery flavor is “sour candy,” which might as well just be another way to say “mystery flavor.”
But hey, at least it doesn’t have Cheetos in it. That’s about all I can ask of a soda anymore after today.
My son asked over the summer if we could get a 12-pack of Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew.
10 cans still remain.
It tasted like Jesus pulled a summer camp prank and rubbed Icy Hot on my soul.