A $93 bottle of Flamin’ Hot Mountain Dew establishes the strange combination of nostalgia, curiosity, and questionable decision-making that drives this discontinued-food hunt. Its unpleasant heat earns only a middling reaction, but the format becomes more interesting once products begin defying expectations. Spicy dill pickle Goldfish gradually win the host over despite his skepticism, while an ancient bottle of lemon-flavored Pepsi Twist somehow receives the highest praise despite having expired in 2003.
Much of the entertainment comes from the disconnect between appearance, age, smell, and actual flavor. Razzles Fizzles look concerning enough for the host to wonder whether he is seeing mold, yet he still likes the taste. Kool-Aid Ghoul-Aid, reportedly expired for 12 years, proves intensely sour but becomes another favorite, while caramel Mentos also outperform expectations. These reversals keep the tier-ranking format unpredictable rather than allowing age alone to determine every verdict.
The weakest part of the premise is also its most obvious safety problem: genuinely old food is repeatedly consumed even after visible or sensory warning signs appear. The host describes suspicious bottle rims, possible mold, rancid odors, altered appearances, and uncertainty about expiration dates, yet continues tasting the products. His comments that his stomach already feels bad and that certain items may not be safe reinforce the danger rather than resolving it, making the spectacle entertaining but difficult to view as responsible experimentation.
That concern becomes particularly pronounced with Third Degree Burn Doritos. Their age is unclear, the smell is compared to stagnant air trapped for decades, and the taste produces immediate disgust. Liquid Ice Ice Breakers generate another worried reaction, while the final Orbitz drink is described as looking like pond water before being sampled despite being 28 years old. These moments certainly create suspense, but they also make the tasting results less meaningful because deterioration may have changed the products substantially from what consumers originally experienced.
When the food is relatively less degraded, the format works much better as an exploration of discontinued flavors. Blaze Deep Dish Pizza chips receive unusually specific praise for resembling actual pizza, while salted caramel Pepsi disappoints because the expected caramel character seemingly fails to come through. Those reactions provide a clearer sense of why a discontinued concept might deserve another chance—or why its disappearance is easier to understand—than tasting something that has spent decades aging in its original packaging.
The presentation remains energetic throughout, with escalating prices, expiration dates, smell tests, exaggerated comparisons, and the tier list giving the tasting marathon an easy structure to follow. The humor is strongest when it emerges directly from the products, particularly the realization that the Pepsi Twist is older than the host and the elaborate description of the ancient Doritos smell. A giveaway and a lengthy promotion for a second channel interrupt that momentum, however, and the repeated cycle of worrying about safety before eating something anyway eventually becomes predictable.
Pros
- The tier-ranking format gives a large assortment of unusual discontinued products a clear structure.
- Unexpected successes such as Ghoul-Aid, Pepsi Twist, caramel Mentos, and deep-dish pizza chips keep the results unpredictable.
- Specific descriptions of smell, flavor, heat, sourness, texture, and appearance make the reactions more informative than simple rankings.
- Humor built around the products’ extreme ages and deteriorated condition keeps the tasting entertaining.
- The final Orbitz test provides an appropriately unusual conclusion, including an attempt to sample the drink’s distinctive suspended pieces.
Cons
- Repeatedly consuming products after noticing possible mold, rancid smells, suspicious containers, or other signs of deterioration introduces an unnecessary safety risk.
- Extremely old samples cannot reliably demonstrate what several products tasted like when they were originally sold.
- Release, discontinuation, expiration, popularity, and pricing details are generally presented without supporting context or verification.
- The second-channel promotion substantially interrupts the tasting sequence.
- Repeated warnings about how dangerous or unpleasant the next bite might be become somewhat formulaic.
The unusual products, surprising flavor reversals, and lively reactions make this an entertaining trip through discontinued snack history, especially when the foods remain recognizable enough to judge on their intended qualities. Its biggest limitation is fundamental to the premise: once decades of deterioration become part of the tasting experience, the experiment reveals as much about expired food as it does about the discontinued products themselves.
