On nostalgia and progress

Written as I ponder this can of orange Slice before me.

118º F this afternoon here in Cathedral City. Insane. Yet this is what I signed up for. While many people hide away from the sun and blistering heat, life continues unabated for many others, including the people of questionable housing status lolling across the crosswalks when it's not their turn, or the people of questionable mental status going for a jog wearing hoodies. Or, like me, the desert newbies who just need to go shopping and feel, for the first time ever, what 118º F actually feels like as they traverse the dusty medians and dark parking lots.

Heat like this offers those experiencing it some sort of perverse bragging rights. I claimed similar, opposite bragging rights over half a lifetime ago when I was living through a stupid cold Alberta clipper that plunged all of Minnesota into two weeks of highs so low they mocked the very concept of a high temperature and wind chills that drove the governor to order all schools under his power closed for at least one day. At such temperatures, it's a matter of minutes, if not seconds, before exposed skin develops frostbite. Minnesota kids can brag about their cold weather-bravery, but at some point, you have to admit that Mother Nature is just being mean, and you pack it in and stay home.

Anyway, what I came to discuss was this can of orange Slice. I just opened up the can with a pleasing shheeee-KOP and took a quick sniff. Smells as advertised.

You see, the orange Slice before me is not the mandarin orange Slice of my childhood. That was—and remains—the best orange pop I've ever had. On its own, it had a lovely zing to it, relatively unfettered by the high fructose corn syrup cloyingness that tarnished both orange Crush and Sunkist. (And yes, I'm sure Slice of all sorts had HFCS in it. It's the taste that matters to me.) And when you poured it over vanilla ice cream in a tall glass and stirred it up...well! Heaven is an ice cream float, and this was the best of all of 'em.

Such joy was not to last. Slice has apparently gone through a number of iterations; the fact that the company still exists under this name is remarkable. However, it had to court the health crowds of late to do this. Long gone is the "mandarin" descriptor. So, too, are the HFCS, brominated vegetable oil, and artificial colors and flavors. In their place are "prebiotics and probiotics" and the moniker "Healthy Soda." It boasts only 5 grams of sugar; stevia extract and the natural sugars that occur in the orange juice (2% of the soda) contribute to whatever sweetness I'm about to enjoy.

Only 40 calories in this soda, as opposed to 150ish in Coke or Pepsi. And the capper to this: 5 grams of fiber. Slice slides into this realm with some prebiotic fiber that definitely has to be very, very soluble, lest it makes the soda, um, too thick. (I've had experience with pediococcus-infested beverages of my own creating. The pediococcus turned a sweet potato fly liquid into a glairy, mucous glop that I sampled with no ill-effects; it still tasted good, but the texture was so eeewww that I threw it out.)

The soda, once a vivid orange, now is a pale, light peach color. Still pleasing to look at, but I'm afraid it might foretell a disappointing experience.

Well, let's give it a try, shall we?

*sips*

Not bad. But yeah, you can't go home again. I blame the stevia and its slightly bitter aftertaste on this. Otherwise, it's actually pretty good. I won't be making any orange ice cream floats with it, but...I guess I could. Just would be odd to do with a "Healthy Soda."

Incidentally, it brings to mind one of my favorite creations: a carrot shrub. Looks deep orange undiluted, but when poured into water, it turns it this light peach color and makes a gorgeous, wonderful beverage. I'd pit my carrot shrub against this; it would be interesting to see what the result would be.