Lemon-Lime Kool-Aid:
I understand the affinity people have for Lemon-Lime Kool-Aid, I really do -- but it's just not for me. Too alien, too mediciney, too much like something they'd use for watery blood in a Klingon battle scene on Star Trek. And not in a good way.
But I do understand the attraction. The combination of lemons and limes have long charmed and haunted our wildest dreams. Look no further than Sprite's "limon" for proof. The world is fascinated with the mixture of these, the sourest citrus fruits ever sold in those cute little nets. Usually, I'm right there with you, loving and worshipping the lemon/lime superhero team-up. Hell, I've been known to eat a dozen raw limes in a sitting before moving onto as many lemons. It's right up my alley, so where did Kool-Aid go wrong? Find out tonight, if you dare.
This isn't to say that Lemon-Lime Kool-Aid doesn't have its fans. In fact, it has many fans. It's also one of the oldest flavors still available, surviving through decades of changing consumer tastes. Your pop may have very well grown up drinking the stuff, if not your older brother. It's a flavor steeped in tradition, passed down from one generation to the next like an ugly heirloom -- kids may not want to get jiggy with Lemon-Lime initially, but the people spoon-feeding the junk won't let the links of their daisy chain break. Not on their watch, at least. Save that shame for when their kid's kid says nuh-uh.
Then there's the whole color thing - Lemon-Lime Kool-Aid is as
green as Kool-Aid gets. I remind you that in the days before artificial blue, green was second only to red. From ice pops to Jell-O, green was the
only passable alternative to a luscious crimson hue. I assume this spread to Kool-Aid, where even kids who preferred orange or grape flavors in the absence of cherry couldn't bring themselves to pass up on Lemon-Lime -- and all because it was so unbelievably green. Let's face it, the only people who eat and drink what they
like are legally blind. The moral: Stop feeling so bad for blind people.
The Taste Test: I halfway expected to have to contradict myself once again, but I'm happy/unhappy to report that Lemon-Lime just doesn't in one bit meet my high criteria for what a good Kool-Aid flavor should be. It starts out okay enough, with a rather subdued yet unmistakably lemon flavor, but once you swallow it, the aftertaste is eerily similar to anyone who's had to swallow aspirin that wasn't in gelcap form. It lingers on the palette like a dead cat, its rotting filth forever oozing onto the nation's tongue.
I expect to get a few e-mails on this, because when you apply passion to something as stupid as Kool-Aid, you've got to expect that any responses you might get will be equally passionate. Sometimes, people disagree. Sometimes, people read that you don't like Lemon-Lime Kool-Aid and respond with vague death threats and malicious computer viruses. Being the reputed journalist I am, it's important to hold the truth higher than the payoff: I can't fucking stand this yucky stinky Kool-Aid flavor.
--
Matt
