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Welcome to Haute-N-Ready, in which John Locanthi, Willamette Week'€™s trencherman of leisure, tastes the hastily made, modestly priced food of the common man.
This time last year, I assembled a full Thanksgiving meal from fast food. There were turkey tacos, ranch-drizzled mashed potatoes, canned cranberry sauce and sweet potato fries among other things. It was fun. It was tasty. I felt sick for several days after, terrified that I'd become a diabetic. But I feel that it missed the spirit of Thanksgiving. This holiday isn't about eating turkey; it's about family. It's about returning to where you grew up, sitting down with the people you grew up, and stuffing your faces with food while trying to maintain pleasant conversation. In short, it's about that nostalgic yearning for one's youth. And so, there is no more timely subject than Pauly Shore telling a thirsty public that Surge soda is back.
Surge is an interesting case study as a product being reintroduced with a focus on '90s nostalgia. All of us who grew up in the '90s at least vaguely remember Surge. We remember the bright green can design. We remember that it was high in caffeine—69mg of caffeine compared to it's competitor and vanquisher Mountain Dew's 54mg, both less than a standard cup of coffee. We kind of remember what it tasted like. We don't remember it as short-lived attempt by Coke to take on Pepsi in the terrible-tasting green soda arena. The reintroduction of Surge, which began with Amazon Prime, has been an attempt to turn Milhouse's excited "Remember Alf? Well, he's back in pog form" into a viable marketing strategy in 2015.
As most of the masochists who follow me on social media already know, I live in the past. Mostly in the well-dressed mid-century period that I never experienced, mind you, but I did grow up in the '90s. I've also seen entirely too many Pauly Shore—in many ways, the Surge of Gen X pop culture—movies. In short, I sprinted off to Burger King the second I saw that Pauly Shore commercial.
Surge is only available as an ICEE at Burger King. It comes in the same sizes and prices as soft drinks: $1.99 for a small, $2.49 for a medium and $2.79 for a large. As with Burger King's soda, which comes out of those reprehensible Coca-Cola Freestyle machines, you will be tasting whichever ICEE the person before you ordered when you get a Surge. You will also have to toil away with a regular straw instead of one of them fancy shovel straws that ICEEs usually come with.
A bright, pale in some spots green that slowly melted into a thick, emerald-colored syrup in the bottom, the Frozen Surge lived up to expectations. There were hints of lime in some sips, a strong hint of cherry—likely from the neighboring cherry on the ICEE machine—in others. It was almost blindingly sweet, like a handful of gummy bears had been melted and broken down into a syrup. Is this what Surge tasted like? I don't know. For some reason, I have a stronger recollection of Biker Mice from Mars than Surge. (Full disclosure: grape soda was my preferred poison back in those halcyon days.)
As I waited for the ICEE to melt into a pool of green syrup, I tried in earnest to remember what Surge tasted like. Willamette Week's Mike Acker told me it "tasted like awesome." I remember it being vaguely like Mountain Dew, except sweeter and less garbage-like. I think. Maybe? Maybe I don't want to know. It isn't so much that Surge is back as it is this relic from my preteen years is back. There was quite a head rush when I finished it after nearly two hours of staring at it. It is unclear whether this was a caffeine rush or a sugar rush, but I'm inclined to go with the latter.
But as I was sitting in that Burger King, sipping on a Surge ICEE—or wheezing the Su-urge to use the parlance of those times—and reflecting on the '90s, it hit me. It doesn't really matter if this Frozen Surge tastes like Surge. It's perfectly fine for what it is, but a far cry from anything I'd spend my own money on. All that matters is that this drink takes us back to the '90s, to when things were simpler, to where the problems of today are far away. And that's what Thanksgiving is truly about. It's when we take a few days off work, travel to see the people we love and try to be happy for once while we gobble down third-rate poultry and delicious sides. It's like Surge being reintroduced for one four-day weekend every year.
Willamette Week