I used to review old Kool-Aid flavors all the time for the site, but I ran low on the "good ones" and wanted to save them for special occasions.

Blah, that's a lie...I guess I just haven't been in the mood to stretch a two-line flavor review into a thousand-line version. Then again, I just remembered that I have a jug of ancient Apple Kool-Aid the size of a small tank. Maybe now would be a good time to make X-E kool again. Yes, yes now would be an excellent time.

I know I'm running a Summer Megaparty, but the one thing I always appreciated about Apple Kool-Aid was its ability to move the brand into an all-out autumn zone. It was one of the few Kool-Aid flavors safe to drink during the Halloween season, and when I say "safe to drink," I don't mean it literally, but more in a "no white after Labor Day" sense. You get me.

An artifact of the very early '80s, the flavor recalls a time when the makers of Kool-Aid still clung to the idea that they could market their wares as something more than loud, neon, obnoxiously-named sugarfests. You won't find many Kool-Aid flavors so mundane and "pure" in today's market...they just don't evoke any sense of tongue-coloring sour-face trip-hop craziness. This barrel of Apple Kool-Aid is ancient, but it feels even more ancient than it actually is. It feels doubly ancient. And when Apple Kool-Aid is finally revealed as a ringer working at the behest of Hawaiian Punch Incorporated, it'll feel like a doubly ancient double agent. A term that I find almost as fun to type out as it is to say aloud in my "incredulous robot" voice.

General Foods chose to introduce Apple Kool-Aid not only with the small "packets" we all knew and loved, but also with a special canister filled with enough Apple Kool-Aid to turn a kid's sandbox into a kid's edible sandbox. This probably wasn't the best idea, as it forced consumers to roll the dice and assume that they would like Apple Kool-Aid enough to drink thirty bazillion gallons of it. If I was the Kool-Aid Man, I would've started smaller. Maybe with free sample packs in the Sunday newspaper. Or with advertorial skywriting.

Still, there's evidence of some bet-hedging: Seemingly aware of the ridiculousness of SO MUCH Apple Kool-Aid, General Foods proudly proclaimed in at least thirty spots on the label that the canister was reusable. Thus, even if you weren't completely in the market for a troth's worth of Apple Kool-Aid mix, you might've been in the market for reusable canisters. They are excellent for transporting soup.

Ah, shit. Evidently, this was one of those presweetened kinds of Kool-Aid, meaning that there's actual sugar in there...sugar that has spent nearly thirty years crystallizing into a substance that nobody with a reason to live should ingest. Luckily for you, I lack such a reason.

It's...appley? Appley is the best way that I can describe Apple Kool-Aid, even in its currently sad and rancid state. I suppose that's a bit anticlimactic, but it's not like I can just start lying and say that it tasted like conifers mixed with froggy juice. I'm a journalist. I suspect that the "punch" of the original flavor has somewhat dissipated over the course of three decades, but I'm getting a good enough sense to know that it was indeed...appley.

Basically tastes like watered down apple juice, and since it was really no better for you than real apple juice, I think I'm missing the point of all this. I suspect that the unsweetened packets were a lot better, as you were free to customize the level of sugar. I don't like having the sweetness of my Kool-Aid dictated to me. This isn't Communist Russia.

I don't think even a fresh pack of Apple Kool-Aid would make for one of my favorite flavors, but I'm still totally down with the fact that it once existed. The Halloween season connection is too much of a plus. If you doubt that, try to doubt this:

From some weird 1981 magazine, it's a full-page Apple Kool-Aid ad that challenges Halloween fans to drink what would remain the scariest cocktail on the planet until Ghoul-Aid arrived. "Halloween Chiller" combined Apple Kool-Aid with orange juice and 7 Up. My brain cannot process what that would taste like because it's too busy focusing on the funky parrot on that kid's shoulder. I understand that a child in the real world might've settled for a battery-operated chirping parrot if he wanted to be a pirate for Halloween...I just never expected to see it voluntarily illustrated.

I was going to end this review with some kind of letter grade, but I think I'd like to reserve judgment until I try Apple Kool-Aid that wasn't pre-sweetened thirty years ago. Look for a follow-up review sometime in the distant future.

Tomorrow is the Fourth of July. We're doing absolutely nothing. Are you?

To blend the themes of Kool-Aid and patriotism into one harmonious hyperlink, I urge you to revisit my review of Cherry Cracker Kool-Aid.

Posted by Matt on 07/03/2008. E-mail me!