Sour Trip

I don’t always order water with lemon. But when I do, I eat the lemon—sometimes to the shock of onlookers because I forget that’s weird to do. Limes, on the other hand? No way. Too bitter.

I say that to illustrate what I mean when I say I love a good sour. I crave it. I chase it. Hell, I recently had to stop myself from spending stupid money on a bag of Sweetarts Extreme Chewy Sours, my most favoritest candy in the world despite their discontinuation in 2022.

So, when I learned of one Black Death candy company and its Mega Sour Challenge, my curiosity was piqued. Seven flavors, each more intense than the last, culminating in the titular Black Death, aka the “most sour candy in the world.” I’ll be the judge of that.

Now, technically, the challenge is to eat all seven in one sitting. But I’m not some barbarian looking for a frivolous “challenge”—I’m a gourmet. So, in pursuit of the most accurate flavor profile, I decided to have just one candy at a time and let my taste buds to reset (and regrow) before trying the next one. 

Two days later, a plastic tub arrived at our doorstep, containing two challenges’ worth of candies swimming in one cocaine den’s worth of pure citric acid. They were bigger than I expected, gumball sized, with a thick sour-crystal crust and this weird foamy filling that oozed out as the candy dissolved, packing a consistent punch from start to finish.

And believe me, these mouth-melting marbles do pack a punch. My partner originally planned to eat them all with me, to compare an “average” sour palate with mine. Unfortunately, he sustained acute facial implosion after going rogue and skipping to the Black Death on day three. The doctors say he may never unpucker again.

So yeah, they’re sour. Really sour. But are they the sourest in the world? More importantly, are they good? To answer that question, we have to start at the bottom and claw our way up:

Chili-plosion: -10/10. Who had the audacity to add chili powder to my sour experience? Imagine starting off a wine tasting with a shot of soy sauce. Bad form. Remove this from existence.

Blue Raspberry: 8/10. Hell yeah, brother. Name a more classic combo than sour plus blue. You can’t. Turns out the way to make it better is make it even sourer.

Rhubarb Pie: 9/10. I’ve never tasted rhubarb myself, so I can’t speak to the accuracy of the flavor. In fact, I can barely speak to the flavor at all, because it shredded my tongue like a saw blade. But I still caught a touch of fruit-syrupiness that blended very smoothly with the acidity. This might be my favorite of the bunch.

Red Death: 4/10. What really gets to me isn’t the flavor (cherry maybe?) so much as the concept. Why is there a second death? Why is it ranked below watermelon? It’s not sour enough to be worthy of its name, which loses it some points. But it does make me ponder the meaning of death, which I guess gains them back. 4/10

Watermelon: 6.5/10. It’s watermelon. It’s sour.

Zesty Lemon: 1/10. There is a tiny disclaimer on the label of this product that reads “Not suitable for anyone under eight years of age.” I would go so far as to say that this flavor in particular is not suitable for anyone, period. Is it sour? Yes. But it sucks. It’s straight battery acid. Maybe it starts tasting like lemon eventually, but you’ll destroy yourself before you ever get there. You might as well eat an angry raccoon.

Black Death: 5/10. Lame. Didn’t die.