Twelve cans of the stuff arrived to our office today from Mountain Dew headquarters, high in the mountains. We got four of each flavor. Our editor (at CL's Sarasota paper) Jonathan Maziarz was the first to try it. He opened the bright blue can that’s Infused with Wild Berry Fruit Flavor and Ginseng. I overheard the following statements as he drank and worked on his important editor duties:
“There’s an interesting smell coming from the can… Hm. It’s not wholly offensive….Actually, there’s a really profoundly bad aftertaste…Ew, it’s like Newark in my mouth.”
I drop one off on arts writer Amanda Schurr’s desk, the pink can With a Blast of Strawberry Melon Flavor and Ginseng. “Thanks. Ew,” she says, upon looking at the can. “I can hardly wait.” Several minutes later I hear her open the flip top. “Oh, God,” she says. “Some little drops got on my finger and I actually tasted some of it.” She adds, “It tastes like fake strawberry and melon flavor and Mountain Dew, which is to say it tastes repulsive.”
I try the one in the black can, which is Charged With Raspberry Citrus Flavor and Ginseng. Mmm. It reminds me of popsicles from the ice cream man on my neighborhood street when I’d been working hard all day building forts and assaulting my younger brother. “Dew drinker designed,” it says on the can.
Food science is kind of scary that way when you think about it. So invasive is their market analysis, so powerful are they in commandeering our nostalgia, that they’ve managed to replicate the sensation of a tri-color Mr. Tasty Time popsicle from the mid-‘90s and package it in a little black can that they mail to my place of business. I’m trying to become a man, Mountain Dew, to live a brave and productive life without reverting to my helpless childhood. Don’t even try this shit. We are immune.
-Justin Richards
This article appears in Jun 11-17, 2008.