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Junk Food

Jones Soda Pumpkin Pie

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Jones Soda Blood Orange, Lemon Drop Dead and Pumpkin Pie BottlesI’ve long lamented that I missed the halcyon days of Jones holiday sodas, which was back in the early 2000s when they sold their absolutely amazing-looking Thanksgiving packs that contained such flavors as Green Bean Casserole.

I’ve since made it a mission to grab every limited edition Jones Soda flavor I can, knowing full well that I’m likely in for some serious  punishment.

This year’s Halloween grab is Pumpkin Pie Soda, which Jones claims is new but was previously offered in one of their Thanksgiving packs. Perhaps they’ve tweaked the formula?

Along with Pumpkin Pie, this year they’re offering Blood Orange and Lemon Drop Dead, which have been offered in previous years, but I wanted to include them because they’ve departed from the usual picture labels to offer some pretty gruesome mummy and zombie guys.

Their labels also claim that “It will haunt you forever!” I find this very funny, because out of all of Jones’s limited edition flavors, these are two that will not haunt you. Blood Orange basically tastes like a better version of orange Fanta, because Jones uses cane sugar, and Lemon Drop Dead is a surprisingly refreshing mix of sour and sweet lemon soda.

But we’re really here for the Pumpkin Pie Soda. Because who wants to read about something that might actually taste good?

Jones Pumpkin Pie Soda Label

My four-pack of Pumpkin Soda bottles came with two harmless autumn-themed labels, but I chose the one where four people cover their faces with pumpkins, which could be a fun family photo but to me comes off as quietly ominous.

Jones describes this soda as “the perfect mix of pumpkin, cinnamon, and nutmeg, with a hint of creamy, buttery crust flavor”.

Here we are again, with the pumpkin and the spices. But at least this one makes flat-out claims of tasting like pumpkin! On the other hand, they have to follow it up with the words “creamy” and “buttery”. Two things I’m always looking for in a soda.

Jones Pumpkin Pie Soda

Like an idiot, I’m always smelling these sodas before I taste them. The aroma wafting out of my cup was both strong and incredibly genuine – it really was like I was smelling pumpkin pie in a glass. I feel like this should have been off-putting, but instead it was inviting.

Tasting it was an entire grab bag of flavors and emotions. The nutmeg jumped to the forefront, which was bizarre when paired with a cold, carbonated beverage. The cinnamon was subtle, and, dare I say, overshadowed by the flavor of pumpkin. Actual pumpkin flavor! …In my soda.

Jones rarely lies, and true to form, there was indeed a hint of creaminess and a little bit of butter on the finish. It did give the impression of pie crust, and even evoked memories of the Cool Whip that was always present on top of pumpkin pies at my family’s Thanksgiving dinners.

What does all of this add up to? Again, my brain and my mouth are so confused. If I was judging Jones Pumpkin Pie Soda on flavor alone, it’s aces. By far the most authentic-tasting pumpkin item I’ve had this season, and probably in years past.

But the fact of the matter is that I’m also drinking a soda. It’s cold, it’s carbonated, and it’s everything that a pumpkin pie isn’t supposed to be. Did I finish the cup? I did, but I’m still not entirely sure why. Will I be cracking the other three in my possession? I’m pretty sure they’ll sit in the pantry until I run out of room and am forced to throw them away.

If you have the opportunity to try it, I urge you to do so, just to experience the weird authenticity. Especially if you live in Canada, where it’s available for a limited time at all Smoke’s Poutinerie locations. Screw you guys for having Poutineries.

Jones Soda Pumpkin Pie

  • Score: 2 out of 5 quietly creepy pumpkin people
  • Price: $25.99
  • Size: 12 oz. bottle (12-bottle pack)
  • Purchased at: http://www.jonessoda.com/
  • Nutritional Quirk: Contains no pumpkin, but the flavor is there.
Beverages

Jones Limited Edition Peanut Butter and Jelly Soda

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Jones Limited Edition Peanut Butter and Jelly Soda BottleThere was a time when Jones Soda was synonymous with weird food. Oh, sure, they were also one of the only current soda companies using pure cane sugar instead of high fructose corn syrup before it was cool to do so, but when I think Jones Soda, I think weird. And not just because of their Bacon Soda. Okay, a large part of it is because of Bacon Soda. But it goes back farther than that.

Sit down, kids, because I have a story to tell.

The year was 2004. Junk Food Betty was not even a gleam in my eye, but my heart already belonged to weird foods. It didn’t take any amount of effort to learn about Jones Soda’s Holiday Pack – it was all over the news and the Internet. Despite my crushing desire to try these sodas, which were Turkey & Gravy, Green Bean Casserole, Mashed Potato, Cranberry and Fruitcake, they were sold out immediately, and all I could do was read about them and sigh.

They did it again the next year, with some variations that were equally disgusting, but I was also not privy to that. There were a few more limited edition packs, the aforementioned Bacon Soda debacle, and a random Tofurkey & Gravy Soda year, but other than that, they’ve mostly stuck to Limited Edition Halloween flavors that are generally pedestrian or repeated over the years.

And then, out of nowhere – Limited Edition Peanut Butter and Jelly. I have many questions, like “Why now? And why not bring back those amazing Thanksgiving sets?” But really, I’m just giving thanks that Jones Soda is still keeping it weird, if only for a brief amount of time.

Here’s the description from Jones’ website: “PB&J…. The Jones Way! We took the popular kids sandwich and blended it up for our latest Limited Edition. Enjoy the flavor of Grape Jelly and peanut butter (and sleep well knowing we didn’t use any actual Peanuts or come in contact with peanut materials). This Limited Edition tastes great, whether for Kids who enjoy Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches, or adults reminiscing of their childhood.”

As someone with the mildest peanut allergy possible, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over the inclusion of real peanuts, although I would be more intrigued if they were included. I’m assuming actual grape jelly was also not used, but apparently Jones doesn’t care enough about people with life-threatening grape jelly allergies to mention that.

My mind was torn as to whether or not to pre-judge this soda as disgusting. On the one hand, peanut butter and jelly already has a sweet quality to it, and grape soda isn’t that bad. So there was a chance that it wouldn’t be that bad…right?

But on the other hand, it’s peanut butter and jelly soda. So things could, indeed, go very badly.

The label itself is both simple and adorable. The peanut butter side (chunky style, by all appearances, which is a bit unsettling when you’re about to be drinking the soda version of it) and the jelly side, moments before joining together in joyous edible copulation. I’m not making this sound any more appealing.

At least the color of the soda leans towards the jelly portion, a deep purple that suggests grape soda innocence. I appreciate that they didn’t go with the unhealthy-poop brown color of peanut butter. Small favors.

Jones Limited Edition Peanut Butter and Jelly Soda

Man, I wish I’d saved a dinosaur Welch’s jelly glass from my childhood, just for this occasion. Google it if you don’t know what the hell I’m blathering about.

I should really learn to stop smelling potentially-gross things before I taste them, but I can’t seem to help it. What my nostrils grabbed here was the unmistakable scent of grape jelly. Not grape soda. Grape motherfucking jelly.

And then I had to go and put it in my mouth, because I decided to start a website where I do that and then write about it.

Jones Limited Edition Peanut Butter and Jelly Soda Glass

Oh my god, immediately came the peanut butter. It was there, and it was fucking letting you know it. There was a moment when it first hit my tongue where I was fooled into thinking, “oh, this is very grape soda-ish”, and then BAM! Peanut butter takes over. Unmistakeable. My mouth was flooded with peanut butter, and then, after I swallowed, I got a grape jelly exhale out my nose. Oh my god, why is this happening.

And the peanut butter stuck around, too, just like real peanut butter sticking to your mouth. It doesn’t go away. It just clings to my taste buds, tormenting me long after I decided that three gulps was more than enough to really establish the flavor of this soda for review purposes.

Oh my gosh, it’s so bad, it won’t go away, even as I write this and have already put the glass down, far away from me. It’s not like good peanut butter, either. It’s like that super cheap peanut butter you find in off-brand Halloween candies shaped like dismembered body parts.

The jelly part tasted like melted jelly, which is bad. Why is this so bad? That shouldn’t be so bad, right? And yet, it is. I am actually making a sad face as I type this. It’s involuntary. My mouth is sending sad signals to my brain, probably wondering what it did to deserve this. I’m sorry, mouth. I’m so sorry. It was wrong of me to do this and you didn’t deserve it.

I really didn’t expect Jones Peanut Butter and Jelly Soda to be this bad, but it is, it’s so bad. I mean, I guess if you’re like, super into peanut butter and jelly, it might not be horrible, but Jones took two flavors that are so right for each other and turned them into an abomination. And then they added carbonated water.

I thought this might turn out okay, but I was very wrong. My forehead hurts from furrowing my brow. I am not aging gracefully. Thanks, Jones Soda.

Jones Limited Edition Peanut Butter and Jelly Soda

  • Score: 0.5 out of 5 “I guess if I only exhale the grape jelly it’s better”s
  • Price: $1.49
  • Size: 12 oz. bottle
  • Purchased at: Cost Plus World Market
  • Nutritional Quirk: It’s been made very clear that this soda contains no peanuts but it won’t leave my mouth whyyyyy
Beverages

Jones Soda Buried Pomegranate

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Jones Soda Buried PomegranateJones Soda loves making wacky holiday-themed sodas. Their most famous offering is probably the Thanksgiving pack, wherein they attempt to make you hate the holiday forever and throw up on your mother’s special-occasion tablecloth by turning Thanksgiving classics into soda flavors. I encourage you to read X-Entertainment’s review of the very first Thanksgiving pack, way back in 2004.

Spurned on by their popularity and America’s masochistic palate, Jones started to release other limited edition sodas, and Halloween inevitably had to get its due. Here are this year’s victims:

Jones Soda Halloween 09

I chose Buried Pomegranate, since I already experienced the other three flavors (Candy Corn, Lemon Drop Dead and Spooookiwi) in various iterations in past years, and as an added bonus, Buried Pomegranate gives me an excuse to rant about the popularity of pomegranates. Everything is pomegranate now, and everything pomegranate is usually overpriced. I don’t want a pomegranate martini. I don’t need pomegranate in my iced tea. To be honest, I resisted trying anything pomegranate-flavored for years, choosing to believe that it tasted like hobo breath and that anyone who liked it was just trying to be hip and bourgeoisie. About a year ago, I gave in and bought a tiny four-dollar bottle of POM juice. Turns out, pomegranate juice is pretty delicious. Fuck.

My outrage at the pomegranate’s social status aside, let’s check out this soda. The cans come in packs of four, and they are adorably pint-sized, which has me clapping my hands like an autistic child already. Unlike the rest of you fatties, I haven’t built up the tolerance to sugar and/or high-fructose corn syrup that allows you to suck down a 64-ounce Big Gulp in one sitting, so these mini cans are just right. Besides, let’s be fair, here – when you’re dealing with hi-larious gag (in several senses of the word) sodas, do you really want to have to tackle a full-sized can of the stuff?

Right off the bat, I was a little confused by the theme of Buried Pomegranate. Okay, so there’s a vampire on the can, looking sufficiently evil and Halloweeny, minus those purple-colored freckles that he should probably get checked out by a dermatologist specializing in undead skin conditions. I’m having a hard time connecting the name with the face, however. I mean, I guess vampires can be buried, but most of the vampires I know keep their coffins above ground. It seems it would be terribly inconvenient to have to re-bury yourself every sunrise and claw your way out once night fell. Just buy a castle with a fucking basement, already.

Our little widow-peaked friend has blood dripping off his fangs, suggesting he had just finished feasting on a comely virgin’s ivory neck before posing for his close-up. Wouldn’t “Bloody Pomegranate” have been a more appropriate moniker? I was down with the choice of pomegranate (after my Proletariat rage subsided) because my singular encounter with pomegranate juice taught me that it is a deep, dark red, thick and sticky. Just like blood! Where were you when I was all goffy in high school, pomegranate juice? Having the Kool-Aid man stare me down while I drank cherry-flavored soft drink mix from a plastic goblet really ruined the mood. Now could be my chance to relive those salad days, and with a REAL LIFE VAMPIRE hanging out with me, too boot!

Buried Pomegranate Close Up

What the fuck, Jones Soda? That’s not an awesome fake blood drink, that’s the color my bedspread was until I was ten years old. That’s the color my grandma uses to paint the roofs of the decorative birdhouses she makes. That’s the color of Suave Strawberry Shampoo.

Suave Strawberry Shampoo

That is NOT the color of totally awesome Halloween vampire victim blood. How fucking hard would it have been to add a little extra Red 40? I feel like I’m drinking perfume.

Of course, I think I’m confusing my own awesome idea of Bloody Pomegranate with the actual, less logical Buried Pomegranate. Since I’m still not exactly sure what that means, I can’t really make a correlation between appearance and name. I guess you’ve won this round, Jones Soda. Good for you. Purple freckles.

Adding insult to injury, Buried Pomegranate smells like a Yankee Candle Company candle. Of course, what am I asking for here, a soda that smells like pennies? Pig’s blood on the ingredient list? I’m getting a little carried away, here. I need to turn off the Depeche Mode and calm down.  Honestly, it actually smells good. A really strong, sweet berry smell that, okay I’ll admit it, I wouldn’t mind having as a candle scent in my house. The taste is pretty much the same, more like one of those berry mixes with strawberries and blueberries, with a little pomegranate thrown in. The sweetness is a little overpowering, but I think it works with the berry flavor. Real pomegranate juice is actually quite tart, and there’s just a hint of that here, which seems to compliment the carbonation. If you gave this to me in a blind taste test, I’d probably guess that it was a strawberry soda mixed with something that I couldn’t quite place. Then I’d probably tell you that I’m not a professional goddamn taste tester, so get off my back already. I can’t handle all this pressure.

Buried Pomegranate Soda

Jones Soda Buried Pomegranate’s can delivers on the Halloween spirit. I feel like I’ve made a new friend in this little evil bloodsucker. I’ve named him Barney. He’s going to sleep in my bed every night from now until Halloween. I’ll even drive him to the dermatologist. I’m such a good friend.

The soda, a little less spooky, but tasty nonetheless. I could have chosen Candy Corn, which is obviously more Halloweeny, but I’ve tried it before and I really don’t feel like I need to try it again.  Screw you guys.  Besides, The Impulsive Buy has my back.

I know a lot of people don’t like the “odd” fruity-flavored sodas like strawberry or grape, and those people probably wouldn’t like Buried Pomegranate. But if you’ve ever dontcha wanta Fanta, you might like this soda. Just don’t go into it having never tried pomegranates and think you’re getting a true experience. Of all of Jones Soda’s crazy flavors, this is one of the only ones I’ve actually thought could be a real soda flavor and not just a novelty.

  • Score: 2.5 out of 5 bloody, raw hamburgers
  • Price: $1.99
  • Size: 4 8 ounce cans
  • Purchased at: Target – available exclusively here
  • Nutritional Quirks: No pig’s blood.  🙁